THE MIRROR ROOM

He screams. It’s a note, but you couldn’t call the noise singing. He keeps it going, as loud as he can for as long as he can. His face is turning pale when Hansol’s glass starts to vibrate on the table.

Seungkwan ducks and protects his head with his arms when suddenly an explosion sounds and mirror pieces come flying at him from every direction. He falls to the floor, feels as the pieces land on him and cut his hands and exposed feet. When it ends and he looks up, Hansol’s glass is destroyed and three more mirrors are missing—two on his side of the barrier, and one behind the table on the other side. A second door has been revealed behind the table, just as heavy-looking as the one he can reach. There is also a message on the wall where the other two mirrors were before.

잘 했어. 지금부터 더 어려워 질 거야. 
(Well done. From now on it will get harder.)

Somewhere that Seungkwan doesn’t know about, the walls of Minghao’s tiny space move closer again.

THE BEDROOM

Hansol doesn’t get the chance to cover his face when a glass panel on the ceiling shatters and the pieces rain down over him. One gets in his eye and his hand flies up from the discomfort, unintentionally pressing on the sharp object. He cries out in agony as the glass shard blinds him, and the movements of his stomach make the scythe cut deeper.

While trying to brush the glass away, his hand finds something else—a key. It was hidden above the glass panel in the ceiling, and now Hansol’s tormented bod acts on instinct. He finds the locks that keep his chains in place and shakily turns the key inside them. One by one they unlock, and eventually Hansol is able to crawl out from underneath the ever descending scythe blade and fall to the floor beside the bed.

He lies there for a good ten minutes hugging himself and just breathing, the pain from his stomach and left eye bad but bearable. He can hear the scythe still swinging. Then the pounding on his door returns, and he struggles towards it on his hands and knees.

Junhui’s voice comes through the thick door, barely audible. “Hello!? Who’s in there!?”

“It’s me! Hansol!” he calls back.

“I’m so glad you’re awake! We need to hurry, is there anything in your room!? Names, codes, keys, anything!?”

Hansol looks around with his one good eye, covering the other with a bloodied hand. It’s a simple room, without windows, the bed standing to one wall with the blade over it, two doors and a TV screen. Junhui yells that he should turn the screen on and he does. A screeching feedback noise comes through hidden speakers, the screen comes to life and a message appears on it.

다른 사람의 생명을 구하기 위해 누군가의 안전을 위협할 수 있어? 
(Can you risk someone’s safety to save someone else’s life?)

Seconds after he reads the message, two small hatches open in the ceiling and two heavy ropes fall down to hang just off the floor.

“What are those?” comes Jeonghan’s voice unexpectedly, startling Hansol.

“What are what?” follows Sunyeong.

“Hyungs?” Hansol asks. He can hear that the voices are coming from speakers, and he can hear Junhui clearly now too although the door is still closed. Then his three olders explain their rooms, the puzzles and countdowns, and the Communications System. When Hansol the TV he allowed Jeonghan to see him on his screens.

Jeonghan asks about the ropes again, and Hansol takes a closer look. “It’s just ropes... Oh, one has a blue end and one is red.”

There are also two notes attached to the rope ends. 위험 해 and 위험 하지마. 'Risk it' on the blue one and 'Don’t risk it' on the red. Hansol is more confused than scared. What‘s the point of all this?

“You don’t have much time, little brother,” Jeonghan says uneasily. “I don’t know if you can see it, but there’s a five-minute countdown on your screen here.”

Hansol swirls around, and his eyes grow wide when he sees his screen. There is indeed a countdown, just under five minutes now, but there are other things too. Video feeds, live from four different places, with names to clarify who the people in the feeds are.

Not that Hansol needs them—he knows his friends well enough.

찬 • 승철 • 지수 • 준희 
(Chan, Seungcheol, Jisoo, Junhui.)

“Jun-hyung, your name’s on my countdown,” Hansol says shakily, then the panic starts to rise. “What does it mean, I have to risk someone to save someone else? Hyung?”

“Calm down, Hansol-ah,” Sunyeong says.

“It’s okay,” Junhui adds, although nervous. “We’re in this together, just do your best and we’ll deal with it.”

“But—“

“The countdown, Hansol,” Jeonghan reminds him. “It’s worse to leave it be than to follow through. Trust us.”

Hansol swallows hard and turns to the ropes again. Should he pull on one of them, is that it? He guesses so. But what if someone is hurt? Who’s at risk and who’s to be saved? Does he really get no clues?

THE CORRIDOR

Seungcheol’s screen lights up for the first time in a while. He stretches as much as the metal collar allows him, rubs his tired eyes awake. He reads the message, and he screams inwards.

한솔이 널 구원하면 찬이 죽겠어. 
(If Hansol saves you, Chan dies.)

From above his head, Chan’s tired voice sounds through the speakers. “You read it too, right, hyung?”

THE BOILER ROOM

The temperature is beyond livable. But in the blazing heat and dry atmosphere, somehow Jisoo’s lungs refuse to give out. His heart struggles for every beat, his mind shut off to spare him from the torture of the dehydration.

On the floor in front of him, his key still lies unused.

THE CLASSROOM

“No, Hansol, no! It’s a trick! It’s a damn trick!”

Mingyu screams at the invisible speakers, but he’s realized long ago that nobody can hear him. He can hear everyone, their dying breaths and desperate screams, their puzzle solving and attempts to escape. And here Mingyu is, with a map with thirteen rooms, almost every name scribbled in place, and hundreds of notes and books out of order. For hours he’s been figuring everything out, every puzzle and connection, the risks and the traps and how they are meant to escape.

And he can’t tell anyone because they can’t hear him. He’s useless.

“And I can only pick one?” he hears Hansol ask. “It says so here...”

“Then just choose one,” Junhui sighs. “There’s nothing else you can do. I’ll be okay.”

Mingyu can’t bear to hear another one of his friends scream like they were dying. He holds his hands over his ears, looks away from the map. He’s made the connection—Hansol hasn’t.

SHOULD HANSOL PULL THE RED ROPE

or

SHOULD HE PULL THE BLUE ROPE?

(Winning option marked in bold font.)