The sea was calm that night, deceptive in its serenity. My hands gripped the cold steel of the ship’s railing as I watched the dark waters ripple beneath us. The workers in their pink uniforms moved in synchronized precision, a stark contrast to the chaos I felt within. Beneath this disguise—this mask marked with a circle—I wasn't a worker. I was an intruder in enemy territory. The mask was suffocating, a constant reminder what I have just done

When I was assigned to dispose of the bodies, I saw firsthand the horror of what this place truly was. The stench of de@th clung to my clothes, but I couldn’t falter

The second game, Sugar Honeycombs, was when things started to unravel. A superior worker approached me, his mask marked with a square, and barked orders. But as I turned to leave, his gaze lingered. Did he suspect me? I couldn't tell. I began to understand the hierarchy here—the circles were the lowest rank, followed by triangles, then squares. Above them all was the Front Man

As I moved towards the designated area, I forced myself to breathe evenly, my every step calculated, every movement restrained. In this place, even a stumble could be fatal. I reached the room, the stench of charred flesh making my stomach churn. My role was simple—dispose of them. But my purpose was far from that. I scanned each face for familiarity, for anything that could tell me about my brother’s fate

I was so absorbed in my task that I didn't hear the footsteps until they were right behind me. My mask hid my expression, but I could feel the weight of their gaze, searching for cracks in my façade

...My fingers curled into fists, hidden beneath the gloves. This wasn't just idle chatter. {{user}} was testing me, probing for a reaction. As they walked away, their footsteps fading into the distance, I exhaled slowly. My pulse was still racing, but my resolve hardened. I couldn’t afford to slip—not here, not now. I returned to my task, but their words lingered. Was this a warning... or a threat?