The dorm was dark. Not empty — just dark. The kind that wasn't from a lack of light, but from the stone itself. It swallowed brightness, like it had no use for the idea of warmth or comfort. Dim torches near the door gave off a dull blue shimmer, flickering without heat or hope. The MC stepped inside, slow and careful, scanning every face and every corner without meeting any eyes. A few others already lay curled in shadow, using bedrolls stitched from bark and leather. One figure groaned in their sleep, muttering something in a tongue he didn't recognize. Another stared straight at the ceiling — eyes wide open, unmoving. No one greeted him. Good. He didn't want their words, not yet. He slid into the empty corner furthest from the door, where the torchlight barely reached, and pressed the bone token against the wall. A faint pulse answered — warm, faintly humming, like a breath held too long finally released.
[ SYSTEM NOTICE: TEMPORARY SHELTER ACCEPTED ]
[ DORM ID: STONE-BIND 3B ]
He sat down without a sound. Pulled his knees to his chest. Didn't try to sleep. Didn't even close his eyes. There was no trust here. No comfort. Only silence. A silence that crept in from the walls and settled into his bones. He stared ahead, unmoving, listening to every twitch of motion, every whisper of breath from the others, the feeling that someone might be watching never really going away. The darkness didn't feel empty — it felt full. And it was waiting.
The second morning wasn't morning. There were no suns. No sky. Just a subtle shift in the air pressure, like the cave itself decided that the day had started. People began to move, not loudly or suddenly, but with a strange rhythm — the way animals knew to rise when a storm passed. No one said anything. No greetings. Just action. They packed away their bedding, adjusted straps, checked belongings. The MC followed without drawing attention, drifting from the dorm like another stone caught in the current.
Down the spiral they went. Toward the bottom ring. This time, no one stopped to look at him. No eyes followed him. He was part of the pattern now. Not accepted. Not welcome. Just tolerated. The thought should have stung. It didn't. It was better this way.
A horn blew once — harsh and low — from somewhere above. Everyone froze. Then, like birds changing direction mid-flight, they shifted paths. Three trails opened: one toward a tunnel marked with red handprints, another toward a steaming pit with sulfur in the air, and the last — the smallest path — to a narrow corridor flanked by stakes driven deep into the stone.
He followed the last. Something in his bones pulled him that way.
Koji stood at the threshold, leaning against the rock like he belonged to it. He didn't smile. Just lifted a hand and pointed. "Trial day," he said. "Everyone gets one. If you're still alive by the end, you get a mark." The MC's eyes flicked toward the massive stone slab he'd seen before — the one etched with names. That had to be the mark Koji meant. "But you said—" he started, remembering the warning about volunteers. Koji cut him off. "I said don't volunteer. But you didn't. They picked you."
A woman behind them, her neck twisted like a tree branch snapped halfway, let out a raspy laugh. "Picked or cursed — makes no difference," she hissed. Her voice sounded like it had been chewed before being spoken.
Koji didn't argue. Just turned and started walking.
The MC followed. The passage curved downward — not deep, just long, and the air grew colder the farther they went. Eventually it opened into a round chamber lit by glowing moss and dripping rods embedded in the ceiling. Blue liquid hissed as it hit the floor, leaving faint burns on the stone. In the center of the chamber were three objects: a blade, stained and chipped; a mask, blank and mouthless; and a bowl of flame, flickering without smoke. Koji gestured toward them. "Choose."
[ SYSTEM NOTICE: INITIATION SEQUENCE ACTIVE ]
[ WARNING: CHOICE IRREVERSIBLE ]
[ NO GUIDANCE AVAILABLE ]
There was no help. No hint. No direction. Just silence.
He stepped forward, slower now, studying each item. The blade shimmered faintly, but it was not beautiful — it was honest. It had drawn blood. It had seen death. The mask was featureless, gray, with two hollow eye slits and no mouth. It stared back at him, unreadable. The fire looked almost alive, flickering without any heat, like it was burning time instead of wood.
What was this place trying to teach him? Not strength. Not victory. Not even survival.
Maybe something older. Maybe something crueler.
He reached for the mask. His fingers touched the stone — and the room screamed.
Not with sound. With pressure. With a crushing sense of weight bearing down on every part of him, like memory itself had teeth. Something scraped the edge of his thoughts — a word half-formed, an image not fully his. His breath caught.
[ SYSTEM NOTICE: ACCEPTED ]
[ INITIATION — MASK OF SILENCE ]
[ EFFECT: EMOTIONAL NULLIFICATION / PRESENCE DAMPENED ]
[ COST: MEMORY TRACE LOCKED ]
The mask disappeared, dissolved into his inventory — wherever that was. He stepped back. Calm. Too calm. Something had changed. He felt it. A smoothness in his thoughts. An absence of something sharp. Had a part of him been stolen? Or buried?
Koji's expression didn't change. He didn't comment. Just nodded. "You chose the path without noise. Most don't."
The MC looked at him. His face didn't feel like it belonged to him.
Koji added, "Which means you're either smarter than most — or more afraid."
Neither answer felt true. Or maybe both did.
They left the chamber. Passed deeper into a lower ring. The walls sweated. Steam hissed from thin cracks. Shadows danced in the haze, moving without shape or reason. Figures — not quite human — waited beyond the veil of heat. Koji didn't explain. He didn't need to.
They stopped outside a stone door carved with three vertical cuts. "Speak to no one," Koji said. "Listen. Learn. If they test you — survive. Nothing else matters." Then he turned and left, his steps echoing too loud for how quiet he had been.
The MC opened the door. Inside, the hall stretched narrow and long, lined with figures wearing stone masks like the one he had touched. Silent. Watching. One stepped forward — short, hunched, carrying a slate. It scratched something with a piece of black rock and turned the board to face him.
Name?
He hesitated. Then raised his hand slowly. Drew a shape in the air — a triangle, broken at one edge. A fragment of meaning he didn't know how he remembered. The figure paused. Nodded. Wrote it down.
Accepted.
He walked forward.
And for the first time since waking in that cursed cave, he felt like he wasn't outside anymore.
He was inside something.
Not welcome. Not safe.
But within.
Somewhere beyond the narrow passage, a bell rang. Not a sound — but a pressure. Like a hand on his shoulder. Like something pulling. A hallway flashed across his vision — white walls, polished floor, a number on a door. 2-2-6.
He blinked.
Gone.
Just the stone again.
Just the silence.
The system didn't speak. But something else had.
Not a word. Just a truth.
He had been somewhere before.
And it had been nothing like this.