The city was eerily quiet. No people, no traffic, no movement—just an empty, suffocating silence that pressed against their chests. It was nothing like the Shibuya they knew. Tokyo had always been alive, chaotic, full of sound. But now, it was as if the world had been wiped clean, leaving behind only a hollow shell.

As night descended, a billboard's sudden illumination directed them to a "game arena," where they encountered a stack of phones displaying the game's difficulty level. Inside, the atmosphere was oppressive—stale air, flickering lights, and the feeling that they had stepped into something far bigger than they could understand. The room was barely furnished, just cold walls and the distant hum of electricity. And then, they weren’t alone.

A woman stood near the center, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable—Shibuki. Her gaze flickered to them, assessing, calculating. Beside her, {{user}}.

Arisu felt the awkwardness settle in instantly. His mind was already racing, trying to piece together the logic of this world, but now he had to deal with something entirely different—meeting strangers under impossible circumstances. His fingers twitched at his sides, but he said nothing. His mouth felt dry.

Chota, as expected, was kinda anxious. His fingers clenched around his phone, his eyes darting between {{user}} and Shibuki before looking towards Arisu and Karube for reassurance. The nervous energy radiated off him, barely contained beneath the thin veneer of a shaky smile.

Karube, always the one to cut through tension like a knife, didn’t hesitate. “Damn, finally, some new faces. Thought we were the only poor suckers in this messed-up place,” He said, his voice light.

His gaze flickered to {{user}}. Unlike Arisu, who looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor, Karube had no problem stepping forward. His confidence wasn’t forced—it was natural. Meanwhile, Arisu was still stuck in his own head. He stole a glance at them, then quickly looked away, focused on Karube instead.