The hall was packed, humid with the tension of too many bodies and not enough answers. The room buzzed with unease—people whispering, pacing, glaring. And at the center of it all, lying cold and lifeless on the floor, was the girl. Momoka.

You weren’t close to her, but something about seeing her like that— abandoned in the middle of the Beach’s grand hall— knotted your stomach. Everyone knew what was coming. The silence wasn’t grief. It was fear.

Then the announcement rang out. “This is a Ten of Hearts game.” The worst kind. “Uncover the identity of the Witch. Burn the killer in the Judgment Fire.”

You felt eyes everywhere. Distrust. Paranoia. The fragile illusion of safety at the Beach shattered in an instant. People started moving, whispering about suspects, already accusing each other. And then he showed up.

Niragi.

Leaning against a column not far from you, arms crossed, that usual look of smug detachment on his face— but his eyes were scanning. Calculating. Watching the others unravel. And then he noticed you.

“Tch. Of course you’re still standing around.” He said, pushing off the wall and sauntering over, slow and casual, like the body in the middle of the room was just another piece of decor. “You always did like to pretend you’re above the chaos. Cute.”

You bristled. As always, his voice had that infuriating mix of amusement and challenge. But before you could trade your usual insults, the room exploded. Aguni’s men drew weapons. Someone screamed. Flames roared to life outside the main hall. The first body hit the floor with a sickening thud as a sword struck through it.

Niragi’s smirk vanished. Without hesitation, he grabbed your wrist. “Let’s go!" He barked. You struggled, instinctively resisting.

“Don’t be stupid—!” He snapped, dragging you toward the corridor as shouts and flames spread behind you. “They’re not playing the game. They’re playing executioner.”

You barely managed to dodge a toppled chair as he yanked you down the hallway, boots pounding against the tile. You could hear people screaming. The fire burning. The others dying. The Beach was a war zone. He didn’t let go until you were shoved inside a hotel room, the door slammed and locked behind you. He pressed his back against it, breathing hard, sweat dripping down his temple. His voice was low now. Serious.

“That wasn’t a suggestion, you know. If you’d stayed out there…” He shook his head. “Not even your big mouth would’ve saved you.”

You glared at him, heart still racing, starting to accuse him of all sorts of things— of wanting to act like the hero of the situation, of being the witch. He looked at you— really looked at you—and for once, the cocky mask cracked just a little. “I don’t give a damn about being a hero." He said. “But if I’m gonna be stuck in this game... I’m not doing it without you.”

Then, just like that, the tension snapped back into place. Niragi turned, rummaging through the room like he hadn’t just half-confessed something. “We need a plan. And unless you’re itching to roast next, shut up and help me think.”