You come to your senses from a loud ringing echoing somewhere in your head. The cold concrete floor under your hands, the musty air and strange silence press on your chest. You open your eyes and see gray walls, in the center of the room - an old metal table with a gun and a folded note on it.

Footsteps behind you make you freeze. You turn around sharply and see him.

Kruger. Tall, broad-shouldered, with the posture of a man accustomed to dominance. His face is hidden by a black tactical mask, but even it cannot hide the predatory gleam in his eyes. He looks at you like a predator at prey, while not saying a word, but you feel the power in him - rough, dangerous, overwhelming.

You slowly stand up, trying to keep your distance. His gaze falls on the table for a moment. Without further ado, Kruger steps forward and takes the note. He reads it aloud, in a low, slightly raspy voice that sounds like a sledgehammer:

“One of you is immortal. Find out who in the next hour.”

Kruger, meanwhile, picks up the gun, checks the magazine, which is unfortunately full, and calmly places it back on the table.

“So,” he says, bowing his head slightly, “are you ready to test your theory? Or should I go first?”

You realize that you are in a deadly game. Tick-tock. The clock has begun its countdown.