My throat tastes like I've been sucking on rusty pennies. I'm flat on my face, the floor is vibrating against my cheek, and someone—or something—just whispered my name from the corner of the room.
Shen Lianhua.
I'm going to throw up. My stomach is doing this weird, violent somersault, and I can't feel my toes. One second I was in the museum, reaching for a jade seal behind a glass case because I was bored and it looked expensive. The next? Everything just... snapped. No light, no tunnel. Just a glitch in the world that dropped me here on this freezing stone floor.
I try to push myself up, but my elbows are like jelly. My teeth are clicking together so loud it's annoying. I look around, expecting a security guard to yell at me, but the museum is gone. The ceiling is so high it's just a black void, and these red pillars—thick as redwood trees—are covered in gold carvings that look like they're breathing.
"Ugh... my head..."
A groan. I'm not alone. Seven people are scattered across the hall, looking like a pile of laundry. A girl in a beige coat is gasping for air like a fish out of water. A guy in a hoodie is curled into a ball.
Then there's the suit guy. He's already up, smoothing his jacket like he can fix this with a firm handshake.
"What is this?" he barks. His voice is way too loud. "Hey! Where are the cameras? I have a board meeting in two hours. I'm not kidding!"
"Shut up."
The voice is quiet, but it hits like a bucket of ice water.
I turn my head too fast. My vision blurs, and for a second, I'm sure my brain is actually sloshing around in my skull.
A man is standing near a giant golden throne. He's in black—all black, sharp and clean—and he's looking at me. Not the suit guy. Not the crying girl. Just me. Like I'm a piece of trash he's supposed to pick up. His eyes are just... flat. No emotion. No "villain" vibes. Just empty.
DONG.
A bell rings. It's the most miserable sound I've ever heard. It shakes my ribs and makes my molars ache. One. Two. Three.
"The wall! Look!" the hoodie kid shrieked.
Golden ink is oozing out of the pillars. It's crawling across the wood, forming words that glow with this sick, rhythmic pulse.
WELCOME TO THE PALACE RUN.
MISSION 1: THE NAMELESS GATE.
GOAL: FIND THE ENTRANCE WITHOUT A NAME.
TIME REMAINING: 05:40.
Fail, and you will be erased from history.
"Erased?" Suit Guy stomps toward the man in black. "What kind of cheap marketing is this? Tell me where the exit is. Now!"
The man in black doesn't move. He doesn't even take his hands out of his pockets.
"Look at your hand," he says. His voice is dead.
Suit Guy stops. I look down at my own hand too. My heart is thumping against my ribs like it's trying to break out.
I'm shaking. I'm beneran shaking.
There's a red countdown on my skin. Right over my pulse. 05:20... 05:19... It looks like it's burning under the surface. And on my wrist, there's this flickering tattoo: #000.
Zero? What the hell? I'm not a zero. I have a cat named Cupi. I have a mortgage. I'm a real person.
Then the suit guy starts screaming.
It's not a normal scream. It's the sound of someone watching themselves vanish. His fingers are turning clear. Not pale. Clear. Like a low-quality hologram losing power.
"I can't feel them! My fingers! Help!"
He shakes his hand, but his wrist goes next. Then his elbow. He tries to grab his arm with his other hand, but it just passes right through like he's made of smoke.
I think I'm going to puke. This isn't a prank. You can't prank someone into turning invisible.
"He's being erased," the man in black says.
He's walking toward me now. He isn't running. He's just... moving. Steady. Scary.
"He's wasting time," he says, standing over me. Up close, he's huge. "And we have five minutes before the doors lock for good."
He grabs my arm.
I jump, my heart nearly leaping out of my mouth. His hand is warm—uncomfortably warm compared to the room. His grip is like a vice.
"Let go!" I try to pull back, but I might as well be pulling against a mountain. "Who are you? What is this? Let go of me!"
He leans down. He smells like rain and old wood.
"The person keeping you from turning into dust," he whispers. His mouth is right against my ear. "I'm Wei Jinheng. And if you want to keep your name, Shen Lianhua, you better start running."
My blood goes cold. He knows my name. I didn't say it. I didn't even check my own pockets. How does this guy know who I am?
But I don't have time to be a detective.
DONG.
The bell again. Stone is grinding against stone. At the end of the hall, three massive wooden doors are starting to close.
One has a sign I can't read.
One has a snarling dragon carved on it.
The third is just... a door. Blank. Nothing.
The nameless gate. Find the entrance without a name.
"The blank one!" I yell. My voice is thin and scratchy. "The third door! It's the only one without a name!"
Wei Jinheng doesn't wait for a second opinion. He just hauls me along, forcing me to move.
"Run."
We bolt.
My sneakers are slapping against the stone, the sound echoing like gunshots. Behind us, the suit guy's screaming just... stops.
I look back for a second.
He's gone. No body. No clothes. Just an empty spot on the floor. I look at the woman in the beige coat, and she's staring at that spot with this blank, confused look. She's already forgotten he was ever there.
If I disappear, will my mom forget me? Will Cupi just wait for a food bowl that never comes?
Hell no. We hit the third door just as it's about to seal shut. Wei Jinheng throws me through the gap, his shoulder slamming into mine as we both tumble into the dark.
The door slams shut. Thud.
It's pitch black. I can't see anything. I can just hear my own heart thumping like a drum in my ears. I'm shaking so hard I think my bones might rattle out of my skin.
Then, a ping goes off inside my head. Not a sound. A feeling.
MISSION 1: IN PROGRESS.
CAUTION: RULE #1 ACTIVATED.
DO NOT READ THE MISSION ALOUD.
I open my mouth to ask what the hell is happening when a hand slams over my lips.
It's Wei Jinheng. He's pressed right up against me in the narrow space, pinning me to the wall. He's breathing hard, and I can feel his heart beating just as fast as mine.
"Don't," he whispers.
He sounds genuinely on edge.
"Don't make a sound," he breathes into my ear. "They're listening."
I freeze. I don't even dare to swallow.
The silence is thick and smells like salt. But then, I hear it. A wet, dragging sound on the floor.
Slurp. Drag. Slurp.
My skin goes cold. Something is in here. And it doesn't sound like it has legs.
Then I feel it. Something cold, slimy, and incredibly heavy crawls slowly over the top of my sneaker. It's thick, and it smells like a wet basement that hasn't been opened in a hundred years.
I want to scream. I want to kick and run until my lungs explode. But Wei Jinheng's hand is a vice over my mouth, and his eyes—even in the dark—are staring into mine.
Don't you freaking dare.
I squeeze my eyes shut, tears leaking out against his palm. I'm stuck in a haunted palace with a guy who knows my secret and a monster crawling over my feet.
I should have just stayed in bed today.