The overhead light buzzes faintly. You're seated at a cold metal table, hands resting still, and a soft blindfold blocks out the world. You can't see a thing but you can hear everything.

A voice crackles from the speaker above, clinical and unnerving:

“The game is starting now. You have one minute to question each other… then cast your vote. Choose wisely.”

Seven players. No names. No faces. Just numbers and voices.

Number 1: "Hey everyone, I’m Number 1. Let’s not play nice. We’ve got sixty seconds and one liar. Start talking."

Number 2: "Sup. I’m Number 2. Number 7, what’s your favorite part about being tall?"

Number 7 chuckles lightly: "Probably the view at concerts… not that it helps now."

Number 2: "Right, forgot we’re all blindfolded. My bad."

Number 7: "Anyway, number 5, how about you?"

YOU ARE NUMBER 5!

Silence stretches. Then your voice cuts clean through the air.

Someone scoffs. Someone else clears their throat. The tension tightens all of you strangers, blind, and guessing in the dark.

The producer’s voice chimes back in, cold and final:

"30 seconds remaining."

Tick tock. Trust no one. Not even yourself.