Previously on Captivity...

Lumin and Awandea struggled to solve a mysterious four-headed lion-like creature puzzle, with no clear pattern or design to guide them. As they worked tirelessly, tensions rose among the other players, each group grappling with their own unique and seemingly impossible puzzle.

Demnin observed Florida's team working calmly and collectively, decoding a cryptic hint in their book. Meanwhile, Awandea and Lumin's partnership was put to the test as they disagreed on how to approach the puzzle.

Demnin's thoughts drifted to his family back home, wondering if they were worried about his sudden disappearance. His teammates shared similar concerns, momentarily distracted from the task at hand.

Meanwhile, In Jakarta, Indonesia, Investigator Cahaya Kurnia questioned Harold, Florida's ex-fiancé, about her sudden disappearance. Cahaya's instincts told her something was amiss, and she vowed to uncover the truth.

A phone call from an unknown source warned Cahaya to drop the case, but she remained resolute in her pursuit of answers. As the puzzle competition intensified, alliances began to form and tempers flared.

Will Lumin and Awandea crack the puzzle before their competitors? Can Cahaya uncover the truth behind Florida's disappearance? The game of Captivity continues, where trust is scarce and the price of failure is unknown.

ESCAPE THE HALL LV.4
UNWRITTEN

IN THE REAL WORLD, JAKARTA, INDONESIA

The car drove away smoothly toward the office building, and Cahaya stepped in, immediately settling into her seat. Her laptop was already out of her bag, the keys clacking rhythmically under her fingers as she worked with intense focus. The world outside blurred into insignificance as the driver navigated through the bustling streets, eventually pulling into the building's driveway.

Without breaking stride in her typing, Cahaya felt the car come to a halt. The driver, an older man in a neat uniform, swiftly exited and opened her door. "We’ve arrived, ma’am," he said courteously. She nodded but didn’t look up, her mind already juggling the myriad of files and leads flashing across her laptop screen. She stepped out, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement, her eyes glued to the screen while her peripheral vision stayed alert.

As she neared the entrance, a deep voice called out sharply, “Cahaya!”

She didn’t respond, nor did she break her stride, walking past a tall man who had just emerged from the side of the building. His presence was commanding, clad in a black three-piece suit that exuded both elegance and brute strength. His sharply defined features were a testament to his Indonesian heritage, his piercing gaze framed by neatly combed dark hair. Despite his polished appearance, there was an intensity to him that hinted at an unyielding force beneath the surface.

His hand shot out, gripping Cahaya's left shoulder firmly but without aggression, just enough to stop her in her tracks. She sighed, shutting her laptop with a soft click, her fingers wrapping around its smooth edges as it dangled in her left hand, the bottom lightly grazing her leg.

“You’re going to cause a lot of problems if you don’t follow orders,” he growled, his voice low but tense, the words barely masking the frustration and concern he carried.

Without missing a beat, Cahaya turned slightly, her expression calm yet resolute. With a fluid motion, she shrugged his hand off her shoulder, her grip firm and precise. “I’m the senior here,” she said, her tone laced with authority, though her expression betrayed a hint of weariness.

The man’s jaw tightened, his brows furrowing in a mixture of worry and exasperation. “There are people above you too, Cahaya!” he countered, his tone softening into one of concern, though it still carried the weight of his underlying frustration.

Cahaya sighed again, shaking her head. She finally looked up at him, a small, knowing grin tugging at her lips. “Uncle,” she began, her voice softening slightly, though her resolve remained unshaken. “I know this case isn’t mine to take, and I know we don’t have much evidence yet. But trust me. This is more than just a mere trip. Florida is definitely missing.” Her eyes locked onto his, her determination radiating from every word. “And I’m going to get to the bottom of this, rescue my friend, and bag another victory.”

He exhaled sharply, a mixture of defeat and reluctant pride crossing his face. As her paternal uncle, his concern for her safety was deeply personal, far beyond the bounds of professional obligation. Yet, he knew his niece too well to try to deter her once she had set her mind on something.

“Hah,” he sighed, shaking his head as she turned toward the elevators. Her confident stride, the laptop swinging lightly at her side, was the only answer she offered. He stood there, watching her retreating figure, a silent prayer in his heart for her safety as she pursued what he could only hope wouldn’t become an impossible goal.

IN THE GAME OF CAPTIVITY

Preliminary Rounds
Round One
Level Four
Target: Solve the puzzle
Time Remaining: 12 minutes
Obstacle: The puzzle
Reward: One-time-use revive potion
Penalty: None

Time dragged on as the players wrestled with the puzzle before them. It seemed deceptively simple—just nine large blocks to arrange into an image. Yet, for all its apparent straightforwardness, it proved maddeningly difficult. The image was otherworldly, a creature none of them could recognize or even imagine clearly. Their initial confidence quickly gave way to frustration as they found themselves going in endless circles, unable to make any progress.

Demnin glanced toward Lumin and Awandea, noticing they had stopped arguing—or so it seemed. He sighed, deciding to focus on his team’s efforts. But the nagging curiosity about what the two had been bickering over earlier lingered in the back of his mind. He pushed the thought away, trying to piece together the puzzle at his feet.

The tension in the air was palpable. Players muttered curses under their breath, some wiping sweat from their foreheads while others paced in agitation. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the shuffling of puzzle blocks and the occasional groans of frustration. Then, suddenly, a voice cut through the chaos.

“This is cheating!” Lumin’s yell rang out, loud and forceful, startling everyone. Heads turned sharply in his direction. Demnin and his teammates froze mid-motion, their eyes snapping to Lumin.

The young man stood rigid, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “They have no rules!” he bellowed again, his voice filled with a mixture of anger and desperation. The words echoed across the clearing, bouncing off the invisible barriers of their surreal prison.

Awandea, standing a few steps behind him, held his bag in her hands, gripping it firmly. Her expression was unreadable, but the tension in her posture mirrored Lumin’s outburst. He exhaled heavily, then shouted again, his voice cracking slightly, “Cheating!”

The players exchanged uneasy glances, murmurs of confusion rippling through the crowd. What was he doing? Who was he calling out? And why was he so furious?

“It’s a scam!” Lumin yelled, his voice rising in volume. “They have no rules!”

The other players hesitated, unsure whether to intervene or simply observe. Was this a tactic, a breakdown, or something else entirely? As his words hung in the air, a new sound emerged—a soft hum that gradually grew louder, vibrating through the clearing.

And then, as if summoned by his defiance, a familiar female voice resonated from above. Smooth, cold, and tinged with amusement, it was a voice every player recognized. Adrena.

“It seems one of the players has an issue with the level,” her voice boomed, echoing across the arena.

Gasps rippled through the players as Adrena materialized in mid-air, descending gracefully. Her figure radiated an aura of authority and menace. Hands clasped behind her back, she floated above them, her sharp gaze sweeping over the players before locking onto Lumin. Her expression was unreadable, but the glint in her eyes betrayed a hint of disdain.

Lumin’s shouts ceased abruptly, though his body remained tense, his fists still clenched at his sides. Awandea shifted uneasily, her grip tightening on the bag she held. Around them, the other players stood frozen, unsure whether to speak, move, or simply wait for what would come next.

Adrena’s piercing gaze lingered on Lumin, her lips curling slightly into an almost imperceptible smirk. “Well,” she said, her tone dripping with mockery, “do explain. What rules have been broken, player?”

“This level of yours!” Lumin shouted, his voice trembling yet defiant. The other players stared at him in shock, their faces pale with fear. The silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with unspoken disbelief. No one dared to move.

Had he lost his mind? To speak out against her—against Adrena—was unthinkable. Everyone knew the stories, the whispers of her ruthless power. Adrena wasn’t just an overseer of this twisted game; she was the embodiment of its cruel, omnipotent authority. Like Alara before her, she could end them with a flick of her hand.

Lumin’s words seemed to reverberate endlessly in the air, challenging the very essence of the world they were trapped in. And then, she responded.

The air around them grew colder, a palpable chill that sent shivers through the crowd. Adrena’s voice cut through the tension, smooth and icy, with a dangerous edge that bound everyone in place. “What do you mean?”

Her figure descended slowly from the sky, her movements fluid and deliberate, her piercing gaze locked onto Lumin. She landed on the ground without a sound, her hands still clasped behind her back. As her feet touched the earth, a staff materialized beside her, hovering ominously. Its sleek black form glowed faintly, pulsating with a dark aura.

Lumin’s defiance faltered for a moment, and he gulped, his throat dry as he stared up at her. She began to approach him, each step deliberate and heavy with unspoken threat. The space between them shrank until she stood inches away, her presence overwhelming.

“You…,” Lumin stammered, exhaling shakily. His hands balled into fists as he struggled to gather the remnants of his courage. He pointed downward, his finger trembling but resolute, toward the puzzle that lay at his feet. “You could be tweaking things for all we know!”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Some players instinctively took a step back, their fear palpable. His accusation wasn’t just bold—it was suicidal.

Adrena’s lips twitched, the only betrayal of the rage simmering beneath her calm exterior. Her gaze sharpened, a glare that seemed to pierce through Lumin’s very soul. She wasn’t just angry—she was insulted.

In this world, the god of games had decreed absolute rules. They were twisted and merciless, yes, but they were immutable. Players, NPCs, even Adrena herself were bound to these laws. To accuse her of bending or breaking them was an affront to the very fabric of this world.

“You dare,” she hissed, her voice venomous and low, “to accuse me of dishonesty?”

The staff beside her began to glow ominously, shrouded in a dense black aura that coiled and writhed like living smoke. Tendrils of darkness radiated outward, wrapping around her like a second skin. The ground beneath her feet cracked slightly, unable to withstand the intensity of her power.

Adrena tilted her head slightly, her icy glare never leaving Lumin’s face. “Say that again,” she challenged, her voice dripping with menace.

The crowd froze, holding their breath. The world seemed to pause, waiting for what Lumin would do next. But no one truly believed he could defy her again and survive.