MAYHEM

Awandea blinked as she stumbled forward, her vision still adjusting to the vibrant colors around her. She was in a different world, one that seemed far too bright, too loud. A neon landscape stretched out before her, the colors so intense that they almost hurt her eyes. She barely had time to take it all in when she suddenly bumped into someone.

"Ouch!" a voice cried out in protest.

Awandea's gaze snapped to the boy she had collided with. His expression was annoyed, a scowl forming on his face as he rubbed his shoulder where they had made contact. He was a tall, lanky boy with tousled light blonde hair.

"Ouch!" he repeated, louder this time, his tone tinged with irritation. His voice cut through the cacophony of sounds in the air, forcing Awandea to pay attention to him. She stared at him for a moment, her mind struggling to process everything that was happening. Finally, she sighed and bowed slightly in apology, her movements stiff and mechanical.

The boy raised an eyebrow at her, but he mimicked the gesture, bowing back in a way that seemed both polite and curious. As she straightened up, Awandea glanced down at herself and realized that she was dressed in the same clothes she was wearing back at home. The sight was almost absurd, like she had stepped into some kind of bizarre dream.

"Who are you?" the boy asked, his tone softer now, though still laced with curiosity. His eyes scanned her up and down, trying to make sense of the person standing before him.

Awandea hesitated, unsure of what to say. The situation was so surreal that it almost felt like a joke, like some elaborate prank. But the boy's expectant gaze forced her to respond. "Awandea," she replied slowly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm Demnin. Demnin Ross," the boy said, introducing himself with a small, hesitant smile. "Nice to meet you."

Awandea simply nodded, her mind too preoccupied with her surroundings to fully engage in the conversation. She looked around, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of confusion and awe as she tried to make sense of the strange world she had found herself in. The structures around them were unlike anything she had ever seen-buildings that seemed to defy the laws of physics, hovering in mid-air or twisting in impossible angles. The neon lights bathed everything in an otherworldly glow, creating an atmosphere that was both mesmerizing and disorienting.

"Weird," Awandea muttered, more to herself than to Demnin.

"What's weird?" Demnin asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Game," she replied, her voice distant as her mind raced to piece together what was happening.

"Hm? Oh, you mean how our characters look like us?" Demnin chuckled, the sound a mix of amusement and disbelief. "This is a hyper realistic VR. Cool, right? I can talk to other players as if they're right next to me. It's like... real life, but not."

"Philadelphia," Awandea murmured, her thoughts still scattered.

"Oh, I'm from Sydney, Australia," Demnin responded, clearly trying to make conversation despite the bizarre circumstances.

Awandea barely acknowledged his words, her focus still on the environment around them. She scanned the area, her eyes tracing the edges of buildings, the flickering lights, and the shifting landscape. It was as if the world was alive, constantly moving, constantly changing. The more she looked, the more surreal it became.

As she continued to survey their surroundings, another figure approached them. The boy's long neon silver hair covered most of his face, his expression hidden in the shadows. He held a steel shaft in his hand, the metal gleaming ominously in the neon light.

"Who are you?" Demnin asked, his voice cautious as he noticed the newcomer.

The boy didn't respond. Instead, he suddenly lashed out, swinging the shaft towards Demnin. The metal connected with Demnin's arm with a sickening thud, causing him to stumble backward with a pained gasp.

"Ow! What's wrong with you? It freaking hurts!" Demnin cried out, clutching his arm as he winced in pain.

The boy stared at him, his expression unreadable behind the curtain of silver hair. "How?" he asked, his voice eerie and detached.

Demnin's eyes widened as realization dawned on him. "What do you mean, how? Humans feel pain, that's how-" He paused, his gaze narrowing as he understood what the boy was implying. "Oh, I get it. Look, friend, this is a VR. Everything feels real so the players can enjoy the game like it's a real-life adventure. But that doesn't mean you should go around hitting people."

The boy nodded slowly, as if processing Demnin's words, and then walked away heavily, his steps echoing with a strange, almost mechanical rhythm. Demnin watched him go, shaking his head in disbelief. "Gosh, you all watch a lot of movies," he muttered under his breath, still rubbing his sore arm.

Awandea, who had been watching the interaction silently, walked over to a large stone and sat down, her mind still reeling from the events of the past few minutes. Demnin sighed and sat beside her, trying to make sense of the strange world they had been thrust into.

Before they could say anything more, a woman in her early twenties approached them, her expression a mix of annoyance and concern. She had a sharp look in her eyes, her dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, and her stance was one of authority.

"Did you see that?" the woman asked, her tone accusatory as she glanced between Awandea and Demnin.

"See what?" Demnin asked, looking up at her with confusion.

"That boy," she replied bluntly, her eyes narrowing as she pointed in the direction the silver-haired boy had gone.

"What about him?" Demnin asked, his curiosity piqued.

"He's acting weird," the woman stated, crossing her arms as she studied the two of them.

"Yeah, he was," Demnin agreed, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting the boy to reappear.

"He is," the woman corrected, her voice low and tense. "He's standing right behind you."

Demnin jumped to his feet, quickly moving to stand beside the woman. Awandea turned her head slowly, her eyes meeting those of the silver-haired boy once more. He was standing a few meters away, his grip on the steel shaft tight as he stared at the other players milling about in the distance.

The tension in the air was palpable as they watched the boy, their hearts racing with a mixture of fear and confusion. Before they could react, an unfamiliar voice boomed across the area, echoing off the strange structures around them.

"Attention players. I am Adrena, the guide of the Adrena Hall. Welcome to the world of Captivity. I request all players to enter the Adrena Hall within the next five minutes. You can use your player's screen for help."

The announcement ended abruptly, leaving a buzzing silence in its wake. The players around them began chattering, their voices filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

"What is a player's screen?" the woman asked, her voice tinged with frustration as she looked between Awandea and Demnin.

Demnin shrugged, clearly as clueless as she was. Awandea, however, seemed to be deep in thought. She looked up at the sky, her eyes narrowing as she spotted something written in the neon-lit clouds.

"Look," she murmured, gesturing with her eyes.

Demnin and the woman followed her gaze, their eyes widening as they noticed the faint writing in the sky. The letters seemed to be made of light, glowing softly against the darkening sky.

"That looks like some sort of writing," Demnin observed, his voice filled with awe.

"Instructions," the woman began reading aloud, her tone thoughtful. "One: The player's screen refers to the settings of the game, which a player can access at any time. Two: To activate this function, all one needs to do is say out loud, 'Player's screen.' They must mean it when they say it. Three: The functions of the settings are the same as any other game. The icons are self-explanatory."

Without hesitation, Awandea spoke the words aloud. "Player's screen," she said clearly, her voice unwavering.

Immediately, a golden screen appeared in front of her, floating in mid-air with a number of icons labeled with simple words like Map, Inventory, and Settings. Demnin and the woman, curious, followed her lead, both of them speaking the words to activate their own screens.

Awandea's eyes flicked over the icons, her mind working quickly. She tapped the icon labeled Map, and the golden screen disappeared, replaced by a detailed outline of the area. It looked like a world map, with certain terrains marked in different colors-blue, red, green, and more. She studied it quietly, trying to decipher its meaning.

"How do we know where Adrena Hall is?" Demnin asked loudly, his frustration evident as he stared at the map in confusion.

As if in response to his question, a voice echoed in their ears, smooth and robotic. "All one needs to do is say out loud what they are looking for when the map appears," the voice instructed.

The tension in the air was palpable as Demnin, Anex, and Awandea stood in the midst of the chaotic scene. Their eyes darted around the area, trying to locate the source of the voice that had just spoken. But no matter where they looked, they found nothing-no figure, no face, not even a hint of movement. The voice seemed to emanate from nowhere, leaving them unnerved.

As they exchanged puzzled glances, the voice returned, echoing directly in their ears as if it were speaking from inside their minds. "I am the support system of the game."

Demnin felt a cold shiver run down his spine as he struggled to make sense of the disembodied voice. The game's eerie structure seemed to tighten its grip on his senses, making the whole experience even more disorienting. It felt as if the very ground beneath him was trying to swallow him whole, pulling him deeper into this unsettling world.

Awandea, however, appeared unbothered by the strange occurrence. In a voice devoid of emotion, she murmured, "Adrena Hall."

At her words, the golden, glittering map that had been floating mid-air instantly zoomed in on a specific area. The highlighted region began to glow with a soft, pulsing light, clearly marking their destination. Without hesitation, Awandea began to follow the map's directions, her steps steady and unhurried.

Anex and Demnin, still processing the bizarre interaction, exchanged another look before quickly falling in line behind her. Their player screens floated behind them, casting a faint glow as they moved. The trio navigated the winding paths with growing urgency, the sounds of other players' footsteps echoing ominously in the distance.

It wasn't long before they found themselves entering a vast, crowded hall. The space was filled with over a hundred players, all of whom seemed just as anxious and on edge as they were. The room was wide and open, but the tension that hung in the air made it feel suffocating.

Anex squinted, trying to make sense of their surroundings. Her gaze swept across the sea of faces, all of them marked by the same unease that churned within her.

Before she could voice her thoughts, the same voice from earlier filled the hall. "Welcome, dear players. I am Adrena. Glad you all could make it here with no trouble. Let me introduce myself first."

From within the shadows at the far end of the hall, a silhouette began to take form-a female figure slowly emerging into the light. The room's lighting shifted, focusing solely on her as she approached the stage with deliberate, measured steps. The rhythmic click of her red, eight-centimeter heels against the polished floor echoed through the hall, each step resonating like a heartbeat.

The woman moved with an eerie grace, her presence commanding the attention of every player in the room. As she reached the center of the stage, she struck the long staff she carried against the floor, the sharp sound cutting through the silence like a knife. Standing tall, she gripped the staff with both hands, holding it firmly in front of her as she addressed the gathered players.

GUIDE NPC - ADRENA

"I am the guide of this hall," she announced, her voice cool and authoritative, "and I will be the one to brief you on Adrena Hall-related quests. We will begin with the selection round. There are four hundred of you here. We require only two hundred. Fight amongst yourselves and win to cross this round. Players, listen carefully. Enter through this gate, and you will reach the grasslands. That is where this round will take place. All the best, and may the best be the winner."

Her gaze swept across the crowd, her eyes narrowing as she delivered her final instructions. "One last instruction: the more kills you achieve, the higher your rank will be after this round. So make sure you not only win but also climb to the top of the charts. You may begin."

With her final words, the walls behind her began to rise, revealing a massive, neon-green gate. The players, their faces reflecting a mix of excitement and determination, exchanged wary glances before the crowd erupted into a frenzied rush toward the gate.

SELECTION ROUND BEGIN

Panic gripped the players as they pushed and shoved their way toward the entrance, desperate to escape the hall. Cries of fear and frustration filled the air:

"Ah! I want to get out of here!"
"No! This can't be happening!"
"I wish I was eliminated!!"
"No! I am too young to be roped into this mess!"
"Please, no, please!"
"I don't want this!"
"Let us go, please!"

FOUR HOURS EARLIER - THE SELECTION ROUND

Anex, her voice tinged with nervous excitement, remarked, "So this round will sort out the best."

Demnin, nodding in agreement, couldn't help but admire the game's realism. "This game is damn cool," he muttered, though a hint of unease had begun to creep into his voice.

Awandea, as always, remained silent, her expression unreadable as she watched the players around her descend into a rushed excitement. From the corner of her eye, she observed them turning on one another, their fear driving them to savage lengths.

"Awandea," Anex called out, her voice urgent and edged with concern. "We should hide and wait for this to end."

Awandea nodded in agreement, her movements deliberate and unhurried as she turned to follow them. They hurried away from the chaos, searching for a place to take cover. After a short but tense search, they found a small cave tucked away from the main battleground.

The entrance was narrow, almost hidden by the surrounding rocks. They slipped inside, hoping to find a moment of peace away from the violence outside. But their hopes were dashed when they realized they were not alone.

Three other females were already inside, huddled together near the back of the cave. One of them, her eyes wide with fear, quickly grabbed a stick lying next to her and brandished it at the newcomers.

"LET US BE! GET OUT OF HERE!" she screamed, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desperation.

Awandea, unfazed by the girl's defensive outburst, quietly moved to sit down next to one of the other females. The girl beside her, her head hanging low between her legs, shifted slightly at Awandea's presence. Her hands rested on her knees, her posture tense and closed off.

In a muffled, almost inaudible voice, the girl introduced herself. "Nicole."

Awandea glanced at her, her expression remaining unreadable. The girl didn't meet her gaze, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground as if the introduction had taken all the energy she had left.

Awandea sighed softly, her shoulders relaxing as she leaned back against the cool, rough wall of the cave. After a brief pause, she spoke her name in the same emotionless tone she had used before. "Awandea."