The Stranger’s Invitation

The golden glow from the voting room faded behind them as the five remaining players were silently led through a dim corridor. No masked man, no announcements. Just a hallway that stretched on like a spell, too long and too quiet, until it opened into a space that felt… wrong.

It was too perfect.

A lounge bathed in soft, ambient lighting greeted them. Couches with velvet cushions. Tables with steaming trays of food — biryani, pasta, roasted vegetables, and desserts too delicate to touch. A fireplace crackled, its warmth almost offensive after the cold of the last room. Framed paintings hung from the walls — all landscapes that none of them could recognize, yet looked vaguely familiar. Mountains that seemed to shift if you stared too long. Oceans that looked like they could speak.

"This looks like a dream," Areeba muttered, stepping in cautiously.

"Or a trap," Zayan said, his voice lower.

No one argued.

They wandered in slowly, their footsteps hushed by the thick carpets. No one sat. No one touched the food. The silence between them stretched thin, like a string about to snap.

Saira folded her arms and leaned against the wall. "So… we all got a vote. Exactly one. What now?"

Haider sighed, rubbing his face. "Now we wonder who voted for who."

"I didn't vote for any of you," Areeba said quickly. "I—I picked randomly. I thought that's what we were supposed to do."

Zayan scoffed. "That's what everyone will say."

"Maybe that was the point," Lina said softly. "To turn us against each other without needing to eliminate anyone."

They all looked at her. No one replied.

A door opened on the far side of the lounge with a quiet hiss. A silver plate outside it read:

Rest Chambers

A gentle chime rang in the air, and the same voice that had declared the vote now returned, low and calm:

> "Your choices have been noted.

One among you has been marked.

One among you has been chosen.

Rest well tonight. Tomorrow, the doors will open again."

The door clicked fully open.

---

The sleeping chambers were strange. Identical rooms lined a straight hallway. Each had a name etched onto a golden plaque: Lina, Haider, Zayan, Saira, Areeba.

The rooms themselves were pristine — too pristine. One bed. One mirror. No windows. No clocks. No sound from the outside world. The air smelled faintly of lavender, but underneath that was something harder to name. Too clean. Too still.

Lina entered hers hesitantly. The walls were soft beige, the bed immaculately made. A tray on the nightstand held a steaming mug of something that smelled like chamomile.

She didn't drink it.

The mirror across from the bed caught her reflection, and for a second, she thought the girl inside blinked just a heartbeat too late.

She froze.

Then turned away.

And then she saw it.

On her pillow was a black envelope, matte as shadow. Her name was handwritten on the front in deep silver ink.

Her breath hitched.

She picked it up with trembling fingers and opened it slowly, afraid of what she might find.

Inside, a single white card. No logo. No instructions. Just a single line:

> "You have been chosen. Use this only once. It will change your fate."

There was no signature.

Her heartbeat quickened. Her palms began to sweat. Her eyes darted to the mirror again, half-expecting someone to appear behind her. But the room remained still. Too still.

Why me?

She stuffed the envelope under the mattress, her fingers shaking. A chill ran down her spine that no blanket could chase away.

---

Elsewhere, the others tried to sleep — but the weight of the unknown pressed against them like a second ceiling.

Zayan stared at the blank white above him, fists clenched. His thoughts raced in circles — had someone really voted for him, or was this whole thing a ploy to break them down?

Saira curled up, blankets pulled tightly over her head, her guilt from the mirror trial still lingering like a wound that wouldn't close.

Haider lay on his side, watching the reflection of his own eyes in the mirror, wondering if they were truly alone. Were they being watched now? Judged?

Areeba refused to sleep at first. She paced her room for what felt like hours before finally curling up on the floor, back pressed against the wall, her heartbeat loud in her ears.

And Lina sat awake, the black envelope pulsing in her thoughts like it was alive.

---

Just before dawn, a chime echoed through every room.

> "Good morning, players.

Today, the rules will shift.

One of you holds the power to bend them."

The voice paused. A beat of silence.

Then, quietly, it added:

> "But the marked one…

Their time is already slipping."

The message ended.

And with it, all five doors unlocked simultaneously.

---

Lina opened hers and stepped out into the hall. The others emerged at the same time, glancing at one another with guarded expressions.

No one spoke.

The lounge remained unchanged — warm, inviting, and deceptive. The food still steamed. The fireplace still glowed.

But now, hanging above the fireplace, was something new.

A digital counter.

TIME UNTIL NEXT GAME: 11 HOURS

The countdown had begun.

And somewhere among them, the marked one's fate had already begun to unravel.

---