Date: January 2nd, 2021
Time: 4:45 PM – 7:30 PM
Location: Austin, Texas – East 6th Street → Abandoned Metro Tunnel beneath Red River Street*
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[4:45 PM – Blaze's Apartment, East 6th Street]
The sun outside cast a dying orange light across the walls of Blaze's fifth-floor apartment. Shadows crawled up the spines of his books as he adjusted the final detail of his appearance. Black gentleman's coat, pressed and sharp. Gloves—polished leather. Boots laced tight for movement. A silver pocket watch slipped into his vest.
He looked in the mirror—not to check his face, but the glint in his own ice-blue eyes.
It was time.
The Game had begun.
But Blaze wouldn't play it. He would rewrite it.
He checked the note he had slipped under his door that morning—a sloppily folded sheet with nothing but an address and a time.
> Red River Street. 6:30 PM. Bring nothing. Come alone.
The kind of trap meant for the desperate.
But Blaze had already chosen his role: not player, not observer.
Puppetmaster.
---
[5:12 PM – Rooftops above 7th Street, East Austin]
Blaze stood on the edge of a six-story building, wind tousling his coat behind him. He studied the streets below—every turn, every alley, every potential tail.
A pair of headlights passed once. Slowed at the corner. No signal. No plate light.
Government or private?
He leapt.
Boots hit the adjacent rooftop with a low thud—perfect roll, no wasted motion. He sprinted forward, vaulting a vent shaft, scaling a narrow ledge between two walls, and dropped down silently behind a delivery truck.
From there, he melted into the crowd of East Austin's evening commuters. Like a wolf among sleepwalkers.
---
[6:04 PM – 400 Red River Street – The Entrance]
An old maintenance shack sat hidden behind a graffiti-covered fence, its door padlocked. But Blaze didn't bother with keys.
He examined the rusted handle.
> Shiny scratch marks. Recently opened, at least twice. Bottom hinge re-soldered. Which means... door opens outward, but can snap off with torque.
He slipped a small folding wrench from his coat and popped the hinge quietly.
Inside, a trapdoor.
And beneath that? Silence.
He climbed down the narrow ladder into the darkness.
---
[6:29 PM – Underground Metro Tunnel – Unknown Depth]
The tunnel stank of wet stone, decay, and old blood.
Faint bulbs lined the ceiling, flickering—powered by portable generators humming somewhere deeper in. Blaze walked slowly, his footsteps echoing on concrete.
He wasn't alone.
> "You're early," came a voice.
From the shadows emerged a boy—maybe 17—shaggy hair, torn hoodie, nervous fingers twitching at the seam.
> "Name?" Blaze asked flatly.
> "Kai. You... you're Blaze, right? You're in the game too?"
Blaze said nothing. He stepped closer, his blue eyes scanning everything.
> Wrist bones protruding. Calluses on fingers. Lip slightly split. Nervous glances left every three seconds. Fighter. But scared. Probably grew up in juvenile systems. Poor liar.
> "Why are you here?" Blaze asked.
> "I—got a note. Said to meet the others. Said it's the first test."
> "And you came? Without checking the origin, the ink, or the fibers of the message?"
Kai blinked.
> "You're dumber than you look."
Blaze smiled.
Cruel.
---
[6:36 PM – First Test Begins]
From deeper in the tunnel, a loudspeaker crackled.
> "Welcome, participants. In this chamber lies your first challenge. Seven entered. Only three will proceed. If you fail... you vanish. If you kill... you win."
The floor beneath them shuddered as metal walls slid closed behind them—locking them inside a sealed concrete arena.
Blaze didn't move.
Kai stepped back, fists clenched.
> "You set this up?" he asked, panicked.
> "No," Blaze replied. "But I expected it. And unlike you, I came prepared."
He tapped his heel.
A tiny ceramic blade slipped from his boot sole into his hand.
> "Wait—what are you—"
Blaze moved.
In two steps, he was behind Kai, blade at his neck—not cutting, just resting.
> "Now, Kai. Listen very carefully. You have two options. One: panic, run, and get shot from above by the observers. Two: obey me, survive, and play dead when I say so."
Kai froze.
> "You're insane...!"
> "Incorrect. I'm inevitable."
---
[6:49 PM – Arena Center]
Two other players entered from opposite doors—one a girl with red braids and blood on her shirt. The other, a stocky boy with prison tattoos.
> "Hey!" the girl shouted. "Back off! Drop the knife!"
Blaze dragged Kai forward by the shoulder, still keeping the blade near his throat.
> "You want to live?" Blaze called to them. "Then don't play by their rules. Play by mine."
> "Screw you!" the stocky one charged.
Blaze let him come.
Five steps.
Four.
At three, Blaze threw Kai aside and sprinted forward—dropping low at the last second and sweeping the boy's leg. The heavy body crashed to the floor.
In one motion, Blaze flipped the ceramic blade upward—right to the boy's throat.
> "You failed," he whispered. "No observation. No strategy. You just charged. Typical."
He stood up.
> "Let me show you what winning looks like."
He pointed to the nearest camera in the ceiling and said clearly:
> "You want killers? I'll give you gods."
---
[7:03 PM – Arena Exit Opens]
The speakers crackled again.
> "Blaze – Passed. Kai – Passed. Subject 4 – Failed."
A sound like gas hissed from the ceiling.
The stocky boy twitched once—and stopped breathing.
Kai nearly vomited.
Blaze just stared upward, eyes narrowed.
> So the rules are arbitrary. Based on observation, not result. They wanted me to kill. I didn't. But I controlled it. That's what passed me.
> I'm not playing their game. I'm learning its rules... so I can write new ones.
---
[7:30 PM – Blaze Exits the Tunnel]
As Blaze stepped back into the cold air, his mind was already a hurricane of equations, maps, psychology, and death. He now knew:
The tests were recorded and graded by live observers.
The arena had multiple points of entry, not disclosed to players.
The other participants were not equal—some were bait. Some were threats.
And the invitation guy? Was just another pawn.
He adjusted his gloves and turned toward the city.
It was time to hunt the puppetmasters.
And cut their strings.