---
It started at 2:37 PM.
The room fell silent—not the kind of silence that follows a teacher's entry, but the sudden, suffocating quiet that wraps itself around the soul. A faint thud echoed through the hall, followed by a scream.
Everyone in Room 4-B turned.
A boy lay on the floor in the corridor. Blood leaked from his nose and ears. Eyes wide open, staring—but not at the ceiling. At something no one else could see.
His lips trembled. He mumbled words in reverse.
Words that hadn't been spoken in centuries.
> "The white door… he was inside… Reva… Aeyon…"
Then nothing.
His body seized.
And then—stillness.
Dead.
No wounds. No poison. No explanation.
But Aeyon's heart didn't race.
It stopped.
---
10 Hours Earlier
"Mental projection isn't dangerous unless you leave the door open."
Aeyon had whispered those words to a student who wanted to "see what he could do." Aeyon had smiled and agreed. He'd used a minor simulation trick—injecting dreams into the REM phase.
But he locked the doors behind him.
That's rule one.
Never leave mental constructs open.
But now someone had.
And Aeyon didn't build this construct.
---
The White Room
Later that night, Aeyon closed his eyes. He entered the mental channel again, willingly.
He appeared in a white room—walls smooth like polished bone, the air cold, sterile, heavy. A single chair sat in the center, facing the far wall. A clock ticked without hands.
Then—footsteps.
He turned.
Reva was there. In the construct.
Which meant only one thing.
> "You made this?" Aeyon asked, his voice echoing unnaturally.
She didn't reply.
Instead, she held out a small paper crane. He took it.
As soon as his fingers touched it—he saw flashes.
The dead boy. Screaming.
Reva watching silently.
A shadowed figure behind her.
A locked room full of voices whispering his name.
> "You're not the only one who knows how to play this game," she said softly. "But the board isn't yours anymore."
Aeyon clenched the crane.
He woke up with blood on his palm.
---
In the Real World
Investigators at the school deemed the death a seizure.
They couldn't explain the Latin-like murmurs the victim spoke.
They couldn't explain why the lights flickered for 11 seconds before the collapse.
They couldn't explain why every nearby student's phone reset to 12:06 AM—the exact time Aeyon had created his first simulation two years ago.
But Aeyon knew.
This wasn't a warning.
This was a declaration of war.
Someone else had access to the old systems.
To Nulltech—a form of mind-encoded warfare he thought had been erased when he escaped The Null.
And Reva?
She wasn't the architect.
She was the key.
---
Aeyon's Thought Log (Internal Monologue):
> "One student dead. Reva is part of the simulation but isn't the maker. That means a third player has entered the board. Someone from the Null? Or a ghost from before?"
"They're not trying to kill me. They're provoking me. Pushing me to step back into that shadow."
"Fine."
"If this is war, I'll play king. But I won't move first."
He smiles. But not the charming smile people know.
This one is feral.
Broken.
Real.
---
End of Chapter Cliffhanger
Aeyon gets a text. No name. No number.
> 📩 "Want to play again? Room 11. Midnight. Come alone. Bring your mind."
– S.
He looks up from his phone.
Reva is already watching him from across the room.
She's not surprised.
She's waiting.
> The game is no longer between two minds.
It's a labyrinth.
And only the one who controls reality itself… wins.
---
To be continued,...