JIWOO

“So, stick together?” Yonghyun offers Jiwoo. Having assembled out in the main hall, the group around them are all discussing next moves. Having established that conventional escape wasn't possible, Jiwoo knows she has no choice but to play the game and hope, based on the stories Yonghyun and Taehee had shared, to avoid peril. Had she known wanting her family to be financially secure and stable would cost all of this...she might have never come to this place. This wasn't supposed to be a real thing. This was supposed to be some dumb millionaire wanting to give away money or something. And now Myungok is gone…

Still feeling her stomach churning, Jiwoo only listens to the others discussing where they will be headed briefly before seeing ahead, in the room straight forward, a table with a display of refreshments. Amongst those are rows of bottled water. Jiwoo needed water so badly with how light headed she is still feeling. Whatever that gas was she'd inhaled, everything about her condition just felt that much worse. Despite her misgivings on running headlong into any other rooms, and throat are dry, and it truly feels as if she'd die without some water.

Still taking care with her steps, Jiwoo enters the middle room. It's a fairly nondescript room: a simple long table, the kind you might see at a buffet, covered in a white table cloth, and with a display of snacks and drinks upon it. She tries to take a moment to look around further, but and mouth are practically screaming at her for water. Fortunately, she recognizes the brand of the water bottle and is gulping down one in no time. Part of her is shouting that doing this is stupid, especially after the last room, but she is relieved when nothing else comes of her actions but feeling refreshed.

“Jiwoo, you find something?” Yonghyun asks as he joins her. Taehee is not far behind, looking pale and shaken. Yonghyun takes a water to offer to her before drinking one himself.

“Nothing so far,” she mutters back while beginning to survey the room.

It's mostly small compared to the previous ones; longer width wise than length from what she can see. The table takes up most of the space, but along the wall on hooks are small backpacks. Yonghyun is picking at the food, most of it appearing as protein or granola bars. He asks if either would like one, but doesn't receive a response. Taehee is also inspecting the bags against the backwall. She takes one and opens it carefully. Thankfully, Jiwoo notes no sprays of noxious gas this time.

“Looks like a first aid kit. We've got bandages, some pills, scissors, gauze...” Taehee mumbles off before closing it and slipping the thing onto her back. Jiwoo takes one as well, peaking inside and confirming the contents the same as what Taehee mentioned.

She must have looked up too quickly, because a wave of dizziness made Jiwoo stumble back and onto the floor. She manages to catch herself before hitting too hard, but the room is spinning.

“Are...are you okay?” Sunhee is there now, asking with what seems to be genuine concern. The other girl honestly doesn't look much better than how Jiwoo feels, but she's not on the ground at least, “Ever since the gas I just feel so sick.”

“...yeah, me too,” Jiwoo admits. She feels weaker.

“Here,” Yonghyun gives one of the backpacks to Sunhee, already having one on his back, and helps Jiwoo back to her feet. Taking a moment to regain her balance, she begins grabbing some of the bars to add to her bag.

“Where's Hana?” Yonghyun asks.

“She was discussing where to go next with the others. I saw water in here, so I thought maybe I'd take some to her too!” Ah, there was that almost dumb cheerfulness she's come to expect from Sunhee, “I think I'll ask her to come here since this room seems nice-”

The lights flickered. The doors they'd just entered seemed to shake, as of threatening to close. Jiwoo felt panic build up again, and she had a mind to run for the door to escape. Sunhee was faster though, suddenly shouting for Hana and running out the door. They slammed shut behind her, all three remaining in the room shouting in surprise as the lights went out around them.

The room is nearly pitch black. Jiwoo reaches out, calling for Yonghyun and Taehee. Their voices respond similarly. The sound of doors slamming shut from outside the room, and the voices of others also shouting can be heard faintly. Everyone must be experiencing this. Memories of the gas and the panic from the previous room and-

“Someone get me out!” Taehee suddenly cries weakly, “It's dark and I-!”

“Hey, hey, it's okay, this is you right?” Yonghyun tries to calm her down. From the sound of affirmation Taehee makes, Jiwoo assumes he found her, “It's me. I won't leave you alone. Jiwoo?” Jiwoo feels something take her hand.

“Please tell that's you Yonghyun?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You just grabbed my hand right?”

“I've got Taehee's. Unless this is Jiwoo.”

“No, it's me dummy.”

“Then...” Jiwoo clasps her hand a little tighter around whatever it was that took her hand. It felt...cold...and...bony…

The lights flicker on.

“AHHHHHH!” Jiwoo shrieks at the skeleton next to her, it's boney hand in hers. She immediately smacks it away, stumbling back a step or two...and then realizes…

It's just a dumb prop, like you'd see in a cheap haunted house.

“Seriously?” She growls out before hitting it again, “SERIOUSLY?!” Another whack, and it swings away from her on whatever was supporting it...wait, was that a click she just heard...and the lights come on minutely.

The lights in the room are still dim. There's enough light now for Jiwoo to see the other two. Taehee is almost cowering on the ground, Yonghyun holding one of her hands and trying to comfort her. Seeing Taehee looking panicked, Jiwoo feels a slight bit of sympathy and she kneels down next to the other girl as well, taking her other hand.

“Hey, look, we're fine. Just a dumb skeleton. What kind of place is this anyhow. Can you stand?” Taehee nods slightly, and accepts Jiwoo's help to stand up. Jiwoo sighs, and feels the urge to smack the prop skeleton again when something catches her attention.

Along one of the walls are bookcases (yay...more books!). But one of them is lined in light. Or rather, light is seeping out from behind one of them. Curiously, she carefully walks forward towards it. Her hand barely grazes it when it slowly begins to sink into the ground. It slides down, the bookcase revealing it hid another passage behind it.

“...that's not ominous as all,” Taehee says quietly. Behind them, the doors they came in from the main hall also quietly opened. Light from their previous location fills the room.

Yonghyun, Taehee, Jiwoo: pick one -

A. Back out into the main hall where you came from, towards the voices.

B. Let's go on an adventure through the bookcase!

ACHA

There's a little bit of discussion amongst the group about each of their current states. The boy and girl from the chute in her previous room, Yonghyun and Taehee, currently speak with another girl she is not totally familiar with. She recalls she came in with Yonghyun and the two others (the clingy one and the haughty one), who are currently eying their options as well. Tanya stands aside from everyone else as well, looking off into the distance as if considering something, while the boys from before in the car are also nearby. No one else seems to be with them. By her count, that means only one more, that girl with the hair, is gone.

Thinking back on it, Acha should have left them when she had the chance. While the rules did not state more than one person could win this adventure through the manor, there was always that possibility. Plus, from what she's seen of these people: none of them could be trusted to make the hard decisions if needed. The younger girls all seemed foolish or naive. She might as well lump Yonghyun and the girl with the hair (may her soul rest she supposes, the fool) into that category. Who in their right mind would go into a dark chute and think, actually think, that would end well for them? While Acha had nothing ill feeling towards the girl with the hair, her undoing was ultimately her own fault.

The same could be said about that fool Youngchul. He fell into the same false sense of security all of the others currently suffering are in. Only for him, and the girl with the hair, the cost was living.
Listening to the other three girls continue to cough and heave, explaining what has happened to them in the previous room, and Acha clearly can tell she is lucky to have not followed them either. None of this sounded pleasant by any means. Their pale color (well, paler than they already were. Clearly none of them really worked out in the sun much) and slowly regaining composures proved that fact well enough. They might be alive now...but for how long? How much of their survival was luck? Or was it orchestrated by some higher force that decided, 'no. not today.'
Pulling the hood of her hoodie down low over her eyes, Acha quietly backs away from the rest of the group. There is no sense in hanging around these people unless they've proven useful. So far, none of them have. She looks at her apparently three options. Yonghyun, Taehee, and other black haired pale girl (the not so haughty one) are moving towards the center room. Not that one then. She looks to the boys from the car and Tanya. They're quietly talking, or the nice one who found her is at least. The other boy, Sangho, is mostly just standing aside with his arms crossed looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Acha can't say she blames him. Beomho, however, looks to her for a moment. He raises a hand, motioning for her to come to them.

Acha considers this. Back in the woods, the brothers did seem competent...and they cared for each other, which was actually comforting to see...joining them could prove good for her mind...but Tanya. Tanya that fool who decided to turn around and nearly get herself (and Acha by proxy) is going along too. No. That was definitely not the right choice.

Instead, Acha turns away.

If they were going that way, she'd go this way.

Listening to the others debate, Acha makes her way through the upper corridor. She's mindful of her steps, not wanting to inadvertently set off something. Fortunately, the walk is uneventful. The walls and floors appear normal (though nothing is normal here, she reminds herself). However, it doesn't take long for it to dead end to a large mirror. The frame reminds her of a door, and it doesn't take her long to realize there's a small crystal doorknob exactly where it would be on a normal door. Etched right above it reads:

Enter those strong of heart and will.

Well, going through here blindly seems like a real bad idea-

“What's this?”

Goddamnit.

Hana had sauntered up, standing up straight and looking as confident as ever (even though Acha can clearly see the light sweat on her brow ruining her makeup). She is looking at the same words Acha had just read to herself. She smirks and places a hand on the doorknob. Acha momentarily thinks to stop her; but instead, she steps quietly back. Let Hana do the “honors” she supposes.

“Sunhee!” Hana calls back to her protege, “hurry up!”

The door swings open noiselessly when Hana pushes inwards. The mirrored door leads to another dark corridor, but the walls are lit with pendant lamps above, shining like spotlights in front of a series of mirrors. Hana is already walking through, and Acha follows quietly, again. Hana seems unperturbed by their new surroundings, looking around with her head held high. Acha slows enough so that Hana can be ahead of her some number of steps.

So far, nothing of note has happened.

Though when the door slams shut, Acha has to rethink her luck. Every part of her tells her to turn around immediately and leave. Being stuck in a dark room of mirrors wasn't exactly a peachy good time. So she does exactly that...and is confronted with herself. Letting out a gasp and stumbling back, Acha realizes quickly that a mirror had lined up behind her. She is about to spin back around and find Hana (safety in numbers being one option she was willing to try at this point), but from her peripheral she makes out someone else. The shape of the person, their hair, and their face is enough to make her pause.

“Aroon?” Her brother's name left her lips instantly. Looking at her from another mirror, Aroon stood off. His expression was grim. He beckons to her before turning and briskly walking off. Acha wastes no time going after him; however, she does pause at this new mirror. He was actually in the mirror, “Aroon!” She calls out to him. Aroon pauses his walking to look over his shoulder at her, but only turns back to continue on. Acha cries out for him again and slams her hand against the mirror.

Which never impacts.

Instead, her hand passes right through what she had assumed was glass. It is only then that Acha realizes there was no reflection of her in the glass. This wasn't a mirror: it was a doorway.

Wasting not another moment, Acha hops through the “mirror” and runs after her brother. He is no longer in sight. The area she is in appears just as the previous, with just as many mirrors illuminated by pendant lights from above. Her name is whispered off to the left. Aroon is standing just beyond another mirror. He tilts his head, a small smile on his face, and he turns once more. Acha follows instantly. Again, the mirror doesn't cast her reflection, so she immediately hops through it after him. A third time, this time him whistling for her. A fourth time, him actually holding out a hand for her but turning away and running off when she gets close to the mirror.

Each time she passes through one of these mirrors, the new area is exactly as the one she left. It didn't matter which mirror she passed: she always emerges in the same position she had left the previous room. Logically, this was insane. But logic was long gone from this place. The moment Youngchul's head came off and Myungok vanished into the darkness: sanity and logic no longer applied here.

The only thing that matters, however illogical, is that Aroon was here.

“Aroon!!” She cries out again and again, begging for him to wait for her. But he doesn't. He keeps ducking into another mirror, another door for her to run through in her attempt to catch him. Left, then right, straight through another mirror, and then left again. Where even is she anymore? How long has she been running through this perpetual maze of mirrors?

It's so quiet aside from her footfalls and her shouts to Aroon. Her voice is echoing ever so faintly as the repetition continues.

And finally, just as she thinks she might never stop running after him, Acha stops in front of a mirror, facing a face that is so much like hers but not. Aroon stands before her on the other side of the mirror. Panting from her exertion, she reaches out, and he mirrors her movement. This time, the palm of her hand touches glass, and his reflects the motion she makes. She stands there, her palm against her twin's even though the mirror's glass separates them. They stare at each other: Acha tilts her head, he tilts his. Acha hold her other hand to to muffle the cry she wants to let out: he does the same, though his expression does not hold the same happiness hers does.

“Aroon...”

“Acha, I told you to wait for me. Now look where you've come,” he speaks monotonously, “do you even realize the trouble you're in?”

“How...how could I? Are you even alive?” The word 'alive' causes her to choke up a moment, tears beginning to sting behind her eyelids. Aroon looks at her placidly, “you're not really Aroon though, are you?”

“I'm as real as you care to make me,” he pauses when a low rumble emanates from somewhere nearby, “and that's real enough for me to get you out of here. The door to the left will take you back to the main hall. Be careful. The Manor has changed again,” He slowly steps back, his hand leaving where it was pressed against hers, “if you make it to the end...maybe I'll see you again.”

“No! Wait!” Acha cries out as Aroon turns his back to here and walks away, fading from her sight. The mirror shifts and she is not facing her own reflection: a girl with tears falling down her cheeks and face red. Acha was never a pretty crier. Taking in one deep shuddering breath, Acha wipes the tears away and stands up straight. She looks left, and true to Aroon's words, the door she had come through previously was visible. Open with light steaming in, Acha steels her nerves and starts walking towards the exit.

It is only when she is closer that she notices Sunhee next to the door. She is bowed over, holding herself and rocking quietly back and forth. She's muttering to herself quickly and quietly.

“Fake Hana. Hana would not. Fake Hana. Fake Hana. Hana would never. Have to find Hana. Have to find Hana.” Acha stops her approach, and holds her tongue. Clutched in Sunhee's hand is a pair of scissors, and Acha swears she sees red stains on the parts of her shirt that the light makes visible.

“Gotta find Hana. Hana! Hana where are you?!” And Sunhee sprints off out the door, back into what Acha assumes is the main hall. Acha slowly resumes her walk and chooses not to look directly at the collapsed heap of a body on the ground near the door.

HANA

Hana was not prepared for the darkness. She spins around to look for Acha and Sunhee, who should have been right behind her, but neither are in sight. She calls for Sunhee once, her voice echoing loudly in the darkness.

At the moment the echo fades, the lights brighten all around her. She is surrounded by walls made completely of mirrors. Her beautiful face continues on endlessly around her, each reflection creating another and another in an endless sea of Hana. The lights all glowed with the warmth of daylight at the golden hour. Her pale skin shone without appearing to be whitewashed and her dark hair complimented the skin tone as opposed to adding to paleness. Hana had never looked so amazing.

She laughs, staring at herself. She looks as if she'd gotten the best night sleep ever. No trace of dark circles to be seen! Even the stains from Sunhee's gross mishap earlier are gone. Nothing but pristine, clean, glorious appearance. She can't help but spin a moment, laughing out loud.

“Hana! This way Hana!” It's Haseul. Hana knows Haseul's voice. She smiles upon seeing Haseul's reflection behind her. Her beautiful Haseul is holding her around the waist, smiling happily and snuggling up to her in the mirror's reflections, “Hana, you know you're my number one? Don't you Hana?”

“Haseul...”

“You're my favorite, not Sunhee. I love Hana!” She sings melodiously. The sound is so sweet that Hana swears she hears it right next to her as if it were real. She's no fool. She is very well aware that Haseul, her real Haseul, is not next to her...but it's a nice picture in any event, “Hana, you love me, right? There is no way I'll ever be worthy or equal to you,” part of Hana wants to disagree, but the other knows that her statement is arguably true, “but you can still have me however you want me. Because, you love me, right Hana? And when you get to the end of this Manor,” Hana feels her cheeks flush when Haseul presses a kiss against her cheek in the reflection, “you'll be young and beautiful forever. Even longer than me. No one will ever see you as anything but the most beautiful of stars. My Hana is the prettiest, no?”

Hana smiles. This room, wherever they came to, must show them their deepest wishes. What a quaint place this was. She had to wonder what anyone of a weaker will must see in this place. She has to wonder what Sunhee must be seeing here.

“So, Hana my love, you just need to keep going. Make it to the end, yeah? And then you can have everything you desire. Me. Riches. Fame. Beauty. Youth. Forever.” Haseul steps away from her reflection and points to the right, “go ahead. Fight to the end. If anyone can do this, it's you.”

Hana reaches out to the reflection of Haseul only a moment before the lights fade around her. The room changes back to the darkness, the pendant lights swaying gently and casting shadows with their lights. The door they came through opens slowly, more light from the main hall pouring in. Hana turns to leave when-

“Hana? HANA!!”

“Sunhee?” She stops to look over her shoulder. Sunhee is stumbling towards her. Her face is an absolute mess, tears and, ew, snot smeared all over it. Reaching into her pocket to pull out some kleenex, she walks to Sunhee without really looking at her.

“Sunhee dear, your face is-”

“Are you Hana? Real Hana?”

“Real? Don't be dumb, idiot. Of course I am.”

“You're so mean,” Sunhee sniffles, smacking the tissue Hana had just offered to her out of her hand harshly. Hana backs up a step in surprise.

“Sunhee what the hell is-”

“Hana, my Hana, is not so evil and mean. She would never call me ugly or tell me I'm dumb!” Her friend screams at her, Sunhee's gaze narrowing at Hana dangerously. Hana steps back some more. The light from the doorway catches Sunhee's face at an angle that all of her normally cute features now seem longer, more sinister. There's hate in her glare. Hana has never seen that much hate in Sunhee.

“Sunhee, darling, calm down. It's me. You're just scared and confused. Did the mirrors show you something scary-?”

“No, no, no, no, don't try and trick me! My Hana is the light that brightens the darkness! You are some false hag!”

“Hag? What did you call me? Sunhee I will cut you, I swear to god if you call me that again-” Hana scowls and advances, but notices all too late Sunhee raising her hand.

Sharp pain. In the side of her neck. Another pain as Sunhee raises her hand again and stabs into her chest this time. Her friend pulls back, something glinting in her now blood covered hand. Hana stumbles backwards, her own hands coming up to cover the wounds on her neck and chest. Looking down, she can see the blood pooling beneath her. Her clothes are stained red, covering the vomit stains from Sunhee. Unable to scream, Hana turns to run for the door; however, her vision is blurring, and her limbs feel numb. She makes it five steps when something sinks into her back, pain ripping through her body. She falls face first into the floor, a weight on her back, and the feeling of something stabbing into her back again and again the last thing she knows before she falls into oblivion.

SANGHO

Sangho swears a long line of colorful language under his breath after his last attempt to open on the of the windows leading outside fails again. After that last corridor and the story the three girls had told, he had absolutely no interest in this mansion.

Absolutely.

None.

Even if he didn't have interest, clearly the rest of the idiots around him did (much to his chargrin). He doesn't care about the so-called progression of the game. Both he and Beomho could have been seriously hurt not too long ago. The manor stopped being a game the moment he nearly lost his face. He understood what Beomho was saying: they probably didn't have choice at this point. True...but that didn't mean Sangho wasn't going to try to bust out a window to drag his older brother out kicking and screaming if it meant getting back to the car and driving home. All the way back to Jeju if it meant getting this whole “get your wish granted” bull out of Beomho's head.

“You should come with us,” Beomho is speaking to the foreign woman Tanya.

“Wouldn't it make sense for us to all stay together?” she asks, her expression unreadable to Sangho. Mostly, she just looks passive or neutral. At least she wasn't puking her guts up like that girl Sunhee. He can still hear Hana complaining to Sunhee to hurry up and get her something to clean “this mess up, ugh, you're so gross”.

“Well, yes. The others,” Sangho looks to where Beomho is motioning to a group of them beginning to head towards the room directly in front of them, straight ahead, “are going there. But I think we should go this way,” he points beyond Sangho to another corridor. While the mansion has a typical victorian aesthetic, as one of the ladies from before had put it; this part of the mansion transitions to, if Sangho had to guess anything, into a more Egyptian look. Sandy colored bricks going to a dark wooden door at the end flanked by profiled etchings.

“Let's not go towards the weird parts of the house, hm?” Sangho is already ready to push Beomho back to where the main entrance was.

“Not but listen,” he interjects, “we can't leave conventionally. We should probably take our chances with the interesting or less 'normal' choices. Think about it? We went through the mirror and came out fine,” Sangho points to the cut on his cheek, “mostly fine! The others who went the more conventional ways? Two dead, three sick, and we have no idea where the others went.”

“Safety in numbers,” Tanya adds.

“But how safe? You told us what happened. We're no safer going in small numbers than being fully together.”

“But with others, they could possibly watch our backs...”

Sangho looks past his brother and Tanya at the others. A bunch of young adult punks, the random girl they picked up, most all of them looking sick and ready to pass out...yeah, no thanks. Tanya? Well, he'd rather she go with the others too. He could keep Beomho safer by himself anyhow.

“If you'd rather go with them, then go. C'mon,” Sangho takes Beomho's arm in his to pull him towards the Egyptian door.

“You work in the medical profession, right?” Beomho quickly interjects. Tanya, mouth opening slightly as if to say something, “I saw you help Acha earlier,” to which Tanya now simply nods slowly and mutely, “I'd feel better if you came with us. Sangho is strong and can do the heavy lifting; no offense bro.”

“None taken.”

“And with you, if we do encounter anything that could injure us, we have the know-how to care for damage. What do you think?”

Sangho almost wants to tell them both no; but Beomho looks to him with such sparkling eyes, the kind he gets when he is really onto something. He's seen him late at night wake up with those eyes before grabbing a laptop and typing away the rest of the night.

He did have a point. While Sangho knew he could patch them up with basic first aid if needed, having someone along who would do more was...beneficial.

And if all else fails, Tanya could serve as a meat shield for Beomho.

“Hurry up then,” he grumbles out. Tanya doesn't appear convinced, to which Sangho just shrugs and keeps making his way towards Beomho's goal. He can hear Beomho talking more to Tanya (something along the lines of “Let's get through this together!” or some other uplifting optimism), but he doesn't have much time to ponder their conversation. Instead, the now familiar rush of air flows past him, icy cold and biting. Beomho has fallen silent as well before sounds of the others gasping and crying out shatter the moment of silence.

Doors slam shut, and the main hall they were once it starts flickering its lights. Oh no…

“Conversation's over. MOVE!” Sangho reaches out to grab Beomho's arm and pulls him towards the door as lights begin to systematically go out. Behind him Tanya follows wordlessly, clearly not foolish enough to decline Beomho's offer afterall. He can still hear some screams from the others; however the sounds are muffled, and Sangho doesn't bother to turn around. The air is growing colder every moment, so he does not hesitate in shoving the door open and yanking Beomho inside. He then grabs Tanya and pulls her in quickly too so he can slam the door shut.

Sangho keeps his hand on the doorknob, the other pressing to keep the door shut, bracing his weight against it in the event something tries to force it open. The cold air is blowing in under the door, so incredibly cold that even through his shoes he feels the numbness seeping in. Then all at once, the air stops. Slowly, Sangho releases his hold and steps away from the door. Nothing happens. He lets out the breath he''d been holding before looking to his brother.

“This is amazing,” he whispers to Sangho.

The room is long and well lit. Sangho can't quite gauge how long, but it's reminiscent of the hall they'd come from previously, though much wider. If he has to compare it to anything, however, he'd think of those antiquity museums. Stone walls lined with glass display cases, stone statues on pedestals scattered between the cases and on displays in the middle of the hall, and even the walls are decorated with similar markings he considers Egyptian. Much of the walls are actually stone carvings, some with color.

“Where are we-Beomho no,” Sangho already sees his brother at one of the cases, peering inside and with a hand ready to take something, “don't touch anything.”

“I wasn't,” Beomho responds immediately, dropping his hand, “but look!”

“I'm not interested in Egyptian bull. Let's get out of here.”

“Mesopotamian actually,” Tanya adds, to which Beomho nods enthusiastically. She has joined them and is reading some of the plaques, “lots of little figures in here.”

“Don't care.”

“Tanya, look,” and Sangho watches as Beomho lifts out a small figurine of a bull, turning it over to read the bottom of it, “the bull of heaven. Ah, then what's this…?”

“Stop picking things up. Remember what happens in this place? Am I the only one who remembers that there are traps that will literally take your face off?” Sangho says before taking Beomho and pulling him away from the displays.

“No, but,” Tanya is looking at them now, though fortunately she seems to have the presence of mind to not reach in and touch, “there's all sorts of little statues in here. The last room had a puzzle we needed to solve. Remember this is a game for the organizer of this place.”

“I'm aware. I'm also not in the habit of just sticking my hand in places when I could come back with a stump-Beomho! What did I just say?!”

Both Sangho and Tanya see Beomho, who had somehow gotten free of Sangho, investigating another display, this one with more figures. He looks back at them and just smiles before lifting out another one to show them.

“The base of this one says Enkidu. All of these are statues of different people or things. There's another that says Anu, and Ishtar-”

“Stop picking up!”

“Look,” Beomho sighs, raising his hands up to placate his brother, “there's nothing connected to any of these figures. The cases are wide open, and the last room we were in made it clear when there was a riddle. We haven't run into that yet, right?”

“He's not wrong,” Tanya, once again, offers. Sangho shoots her a glare, but she is joining Beomho again, “this one says Humbaba.”

Sangho shakes his head as the pair continue to discuss the objects they are finding in the cases, the names 'Shamhat' and 'Gilgamesh' being uttered amongst others that Sangho really isn't paying too much attention to. His brother and Tanya are pretty correct though. So that would mean somewhere in this room is a puzzle or riddle they need to solve. Fun.

He pauses to look at the walls. For a moment, they just look like a mural of random pictures. A second glance over, and he is already stringing the images together in sequential order.

Nearest to the door the mural starts with a man, he looks like a king, oppressing his subjects in various ways. The next panel shows a man, wild looking, seemingly being tamed by a woman and becoming 'civilized'. His wild appearance having become more tame in the next panels. Sangho smirks. And people think Beomho is the only one with imagination. The next panel is the wild man fighting the king, and then they leaving on a journey together to fight another. There is fighting and victory, and together they continue until another woman seems to become angry at them.

The mural then abruptly ends. The next portion seems to have been chiseled off, leaving a blank space before the next panel. The mural picks up with the woman, once angry, grieving over a...cow's head? Honestly the mural goes on with what looks like celebrations, but another section of the mural is carved out, and the king is shown to be crying on the next one, near what kind of looks like a tomb. By now, Sangho has lost interest and turns to see what his brother and Tanya are up to.

He should have been paying more attention, because how the hell did he not see the stepped pyramid at the end of the hall that his brother is currently climbing?! (Granted, it's not exactly a huge pyramid, maybe four or five feet tall).

“Beom-!”

“Hey, there's an inscription up here.”

“He looked around the steps before heading up,” Tanya offers Sangho once he's made it to the base of the pyramid, “took a few caution steps before going all the way. Don't worry.”

“I'll worry if I want to,” Sangho ignores how petulant that sounded, “Beomho, come down and-”

“Two sacrifices are to be made. Complete the epic and yours can continue at the top of this ziggurat. Choose wisely as the wrong decision will ruin the story. Which story are they talking about?” He calls down to them from where he's reading from above, “Wait!” He's bounding down the steps again (Sangho is already prepping himself to to catch him if he slips...which Beomho does, but it's on the last step, so no harm done), and towards the walls that Sangho had been inspecting earlier. Tanya is away from them, inspecting the cases again when Beomho exclaims rather excitedly:

“The mural is the story we have to finish!”

“Did you notice these are hollow?” Tanya calls back to them.

She is gently tapping the bull they'd picked up earlier. Sure enough, the clink of her fingers against the figure certainly seemed to indicate it's hollowness. Sangho ran a hand through his hair in irritation. How were they supposed to sacrifice anything? Sangho watches Beomho scamper back over to Tanya, taking the figure from her almost excitedly. He's about to join them when something cracks under his foot.

Clay. Shards of cried clay or porcelain or Sangho be damned if he knew. But there are pieces of something broken on the floor. In fact, scattered around the room, most of it near the base of the pyramid-thing, are broken pieces. That...could be an idea…

“Hey Beomho-” he's about to mention it when he just hears Tanya swear loudly in a language he can't translate (though he's pretty sure it's “What the ?!” from the sounds of it), followed by the sound of something shattering. Sangho sees his brother looking down in curiosity at the now shattered figurine of the bull on the ground at his feet.

“What the hell Beom-!”

“It made sense. The broken pieces on the floor? Also on the mural, the first carved out panel was followed by someone grieving over a 'cow' head. I surmised the precursor to that was the actual death of the bull. So, I dropped it.”

“Will you just...just...” Tanya sighs, the color returning to her face after the obvious scare he'd given her, “you haven't seen the puzzle take out someone yet. I have. Warn us, please, before you do something like that.” Her words are spoken slowly, carefully, like she's explaining it to a child. That, or she's trying to make her words clear since the last few words sounded heavily accented. To Beomho's credit, he had at least a little bit of decency to look embarrassed.

Also too Beomho's credit, something at the top of the pyramid/ziggurat/thing did click.

But also, a statue of a warrior literally just moved near Sangho.

Tanya swore again, stepping backwards away from another large statue she'd been near. In total, seven large stone statues, all of armed soldiers, are now looking at the trio and stepping towards them with heavy, steady, and surprisingly fast gaits. The one closest to Tanya lashes out with a spear, the woman barely reacting fast enough to dodge around the strike. The weapon pierces right through one of the displays, and the statue is going after her yet again.

Sangho yanks Beomho backwards to him as another with a great hammer swings towards them. Around them, chaos is erupting as cases and other displays are smashed. Save one: a central case where the figurines they'd been viewing were located.

“We have to finish the story!” Tanya is already at the case, but her face drops upon looking at all of the figurines, “But...which one…?”

Behind them, light are beginning to flicker and the stone soldiers draw closer and closer...

Many names were mentioned. You're task is simple: pick a figurine to smash. One of you must get it right. Pick the wrong one, and it may be you being smashed instead.

JIHYUN

Something didn't feel right. Even though Jihyun was reasonably certain he is making the right choice...something just felt wrong. All the clues pointed towards this being the safe table, right? He walks around the Knight table, tapping his fingers against the table top carefully. The slots were intended for their hands, clearly, and there is definitely enough room for all of them to be at the same table.

No, this table was the correct one.

What is bothering him the most is the priest table. There was something in the cypher on the wall and the makeup of the room that screams at him there is something more to the table next to them. As the others around him begin taking positions near the tables, Jihyun keeps an eye on the priest table. Priest, priest, priest...knight...royal…

...wait…

The checkered floor. The symbols. The position of the slots on the tables. Everything is clicking together. Now he knew with about 99 percent accuracy he is making the right choice.

Eunwoo takes a place at the knight table, closer towards the locked door, slipping her hand in the slot. Miyeon quietly stands next to Jihyun and slips her hand in as well, though far more tentatively than Eunwoo did. He is watching Yong now. He sets the sword he'd somehow decided to lug in with him from the previous room on the floor near the priest table, circles both tables a moment, and Yong takes the corner farthest from Jihyun, closer to Eunwoo in the end. Eunwoo, almost imperceptibly, narrows her eyes at him, but doesn't bother to fully look at him.

Meanwhile, Jumin is sidling up to Jihyun.

“Hey, so, um, you seemed to take that spot real quick. Is this the safe table?” Jihyun just stares him, certain he must be giving Jumin an incredulous look, “H-Hey, I just...I just don't understand this place at all! These games are so...so...so scary and-!”

“Then just get your head out of your , and pick a hole to shove your hand into,” Jihyun mutters brusquely and turns away to ignore Jumin. The older man seems persistent though, and questions him again about how he knew to pick this table. Did it even matter if he picked another table? Maybe he should just pick this one since everyone else is-

“Say, Jumin,” Yong speaks from his place at the table, “there's always the chance that too many at the table is a bad idea. There's already four of us here.” Jihyun stares at Yong, who just looks back and smiles ever so slightly before continuing to speak to Jumin, “why not take the left side, just a little way there closest to us, at the priest table? Think about it: priest for salvation?”

That wasn't right. That wasn't right at all. Jihyun watches as Jumin perks up, agreeing almost happily before heading to the priest table.

“Jumin, don't be foolish. Get over here next to me.” Eunwoo states while her subtle glare intensifies towards Yong.

“But he has a point! What harm could come of being at a table with a priest?” And before Eunwoo could say anything further, Jumin slips his hand into the slot at the priest table. Jihyun watches Eunwoo and Yong exchange a glance. Eunwoo simply looked full of disdain, while Yong almost looked innocently happy. Jihyun looks back to Jumin. Part of him wants to tell Jumin to come back to the knight table. But as pathetic as Jumin is, Jihyun can't help but admit that being tethered to someone like Jumin would surely end badly for anyone. The foolish man just blindly believes what he is told without considering the actual answer himself.

Well, if he chooses to be an idiot, Jihyun wasn't going to stop him.

Junhee is the last, and she seems to be thinking carefully. She takes a moment and then places her hand into the corner slot of the priest table (dumb move lady). And Jihyun can see the sudden regret on her features. She knows. She's figured out the trick at the last moment. And Jihyun can't help but feel a bit more pity for her over Jumin. Junhee at least showed to be a good competitor comparatively. Junhee tries to remove her hand, but all at once the lights flicker around them.

The sounds of something snapping shut echo symphonic-ally through the room, ending with Junhee hissing in pain.

“Something closed on my hand-” she begins to speak, still trying to remove her hand, when the table, the royal table if he was remembering correctly, suddenly lit up in a pillar of flames. The entire table is consumed in the roar of fire, the room lighting up with the brightness it exudes. Jihyun can feel the heat so acutely he is certain he's going to have something akin to a sunburn. Junhee is still struggling to remove her hand.

“My hand is locked in here!”

“But, mine is fine,” Jumin mutters, safely pulling his out. Jihyun looked at the others around the table also removed their hands. Just as he thought.

No sooner had Jumin removed his hand, the flames dissipated, leaving nothing but a charred floor to indicate anything had been there before. Now, the floor around them tremors, and in an instant four glass panels shoot up from between the tiles on the floor surrounding the priest table. Jumin, the , had stumbled backwards the moment the glass had shot up. He lay on the tiles looking up with wide, watery eyes at the glass prison trapping the priest table and Junhee. Finally, Junhee is able to remove her hand, and she is already beating against the glass with her hands.

“What the…!”

“You...you lied to me! You told me I'd be safe!” Jumin wails, looking to Yong with such despair that Jihyun almost, just almost, feels sorry for him.

“You were. The tables all represented chess pieces. Priest equals bishop. Bishops only attack diagonally. You were perfectly safe where I told you to go. Our lady friend here,” motioning to Junhee who is steadily looking less composed, “chose the corner.”

“No ,” Jihyun spats, rolling his eyes, “the puzzle was obvious-”

Junhee shrieks in surprise, drawing their attention. From below, the glass box is beginning to fill with pale blue liquid. The liquid is raising extraordinarily quickly. Jihyun looks up, and to his dismay, the box has a lid.

“Help me!” She calls to them, pounding on the glass and trying to ram her body against it furiously. However, the box leaves little room for her to build any momentum. Had there not been a lid, Jihyun might have suggested the table top or to float to the top once the “water” got her there...but…

“That could have been me too...oh my god…!”

“Shut up already,” Eunwoo hisses at Jumin, and begins to take a step towards Junhee's prison.

And then the lights flickered again. Cold, biting wind blows past them from somewhere they came from previously. The lights farthest away flicker off first, the roar of the wind growing louder until it sounds more like the growls of something living than the movement of air. Jumin is practically crying now, trying in vain to get to his feet from where he is on the floor. Light spills in behind them, and Jihyun can see a door has slid open. The hall they'd come from in the beginning is clearly visible.

The lights are shutting off systematically, the roar of the wind and it's cold coming closer and closer. Jumin shrieks, and he's already running out the doorway to the light. Yong is next, not even looking back at the others; and Eunwoo isn't too far behind, though she does give one slightly regrettable look to Junhee.

“...what do we do?” Miyeon's says quietly next to Jihyun.

“Quick! The sword! Jam it between the panels and you might be able to get me out!” Junhee quickly instructs them, pointing to where Yong had left the bladed weapon. Jihyun looks to the doorway: to his dismay, the door is slowly sliding closed. Miyeon looks to him, and the lights are flickering around them more and more, darkness creeping closer and closer.

They still have time to get out.

They could try to help Junhee, but would that leave them enough time to get out?

Miyeon and Jihyun: Choose one. Junhee, you're life is in their hands now.

A. Leave the room and Junhee to her fate.

B. Use the sword to try and pry the panels apart, freeing Junhee.

Sunhee, Acha, Yong, Jumin, Eunwoo: Your characters are safe this round and do not need to make a decision. Please be wait patiently for the next update.