The familiar darkness of the stone corridor that had witnessed our twisted game with the Master of Masks began to fade slowly, as if a heavy, tattered theater curtain were lifting to reveal a completely different reality.
The smell of rotten cotton candy and old dust that had filled the place gradually faded, replaced by clean, cold air that carried with it a strange sense of freedom...
The Master of Masks himself, with all his golden flamboyance and terrifying smile, dissolved as if he were a bad dream at dawn. And the Joy Dancers—those silent masked dolls that had formed our horrifying audience—vanished as if they had never been more than illusions produced by a sick mind.
Even that circular arena with its black glass floor and pulsing colored lights returned to being nothing more than a simple stone corridor, though it still carried an unsettling aura of mystery.
"Is… is it really over?" Maya Hawthorne, our team leader, whispered, her voice still carrying traces of the terror and shock that had hung over us for what had felt like an eternity.
Her wide eyes moved around the corridor as if she expected the Master of Masks to jump out of the shadows at any moment and shout, "Surprise! Bonus round!"
Rex Barnes, the muscle-bound boy with the brave heart, scanned the place with wide eyes. The muscles that had been tense and bulging a moment ago had begun to relax slightly, though his fists were still clenched.
"I don't know… but that damned clown… he's gone."
"Ugh…"
Samuel Ko, meanwhile, was sitting on the ground, holding his head in both hands and groaning softly.
When we removed the blank white mask he had been wearing—which turned to dust the moment Maya touched it—he looked as though he were waking from a long, deep coma.
His features showed deep confusion and faint pain. "My head… what… what happened? Where are we?"
'At least he seems to be back to normal… relatively,' I thought as I watched him.
'Though I doubt he'll remember anything from his time as a proud Joy Dancer… and maybe that's for the best.'
"I think… I think we should get out of here," I said quietly, gesturing toward a faint blue glow that had begun to appear at the end of the corridor we were in—a glow that hadn't been there moments ago.
Despite the strange looks Maya and Rex shot me, they stayed silent and nodded.
This time, it looked like a real exit portal, not just another trick from the Master of Masks.
Exhaustion washed over me like a crashing wave—mental and physical fatigue beyond description—mixed with that strange sense of emptiness that often follows surviving a near disaster… or winning a game you never wanted to play in the first place.
We stepped cautiously toward the blue light. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if we were dragging invisible weights behind us.
We passed beneath the stone arch now glowing with blue light, expecting to find ourselves back in the quiet training courtyard we had entered from—perhaps with worried instructors or older students waiting for us with questions and maybe a cup of warm water.
But what greeted us was far from quiet… or welcoming.
"Fwoosh!!"
The moment our feet crossed the threshold of the portal, powerful floodlights burst on, turning what remained of the night's darkness into a harsh, artificial daylight.
The assembly yard, which had been relatively calm when we entered the gate, was now buzzing with activity—but not the reassuring kind.
Soldiers from the United Earth Alliance (UEA), clad in full combat armor of black and gray, were stationed everywhere, forming a defensive semicircle around the portal's exit.
Their weapons—advanced energy rifles with glowing muzzles and live-ammunition rifles that looked capable of punching through a tank—were aimed directly at us.
At the four of us who could barely stand on our feet.
Massive armored vehicles bearing the silver eagle emblem of the UEA were parked behind them, their engines emitting a low, powerful hum like steel beasts sleeping while waiting for orders to strike.
Medical teams in fully sealed white protective suits—resembling astronaut suits—stood ready on both sides of the military perimeter. Their gleaming instruments reflected the floodlights in an unsettling way.
And at the front of this imposing and deeply alarming scene… she stood.
Professor Aurora Phoenix.
Her long silver hair, which fell over her shoulders like a lost fragment of moonlight, shone sharply beneath the lights.
Her stern face looked even harsher and more dangerous than usual.
Her sapphire eyes—cold, icy blue—were fixed on us with sharp focus, like a hawk watching its prey before deciding how to finish it.
Beside her stood Dean Hargrove, his face extremely serious as he stroked his freshly trimmed beard.
We had barely taken two steps out of the gate, still trying to process this completely unexpected welcome—
When Aurora Phoenix's voice rang out, sharp and cold like an icy blade slicing through the tense silence.
"Arrest them! Restrain them immediately! Do not allow any of them to move or attempt to use any abilities!"
Before we could fully grasp the meaning of those words—or the reason for such a hostile reception—the soldiers rushed toward us with speed and efficiency.
I felt strong hands in armored gloves grab my arms and yank me forward violently.
My arm was twisted behind my back.
"Ggh… damn it!" I growled in pain without realizing it.
Maya tried to protest, her voice trembling with shock and fear.
"Wait! What—what the hell are you doing? We—"
"Quiet!" a large soldier interrupted her. His face was hidden behind a dark helmet that revealed nothing.
He twisted her arm behind her back roughly, and I heard a muffled click as metallic cuffs were locked onto her wrists, emitting a faint humming aura.
Rex, with his massive build and natural strength, tried to resist instinctively and let out a muffled roar of anger and confusion.
"BAM!!"
But two other soldiers—clearly trained to deal with people like him—quickly tackled him to the ground and bound his hands and feet with similar restraints.
Samuel, still dazed and confused and suffering from what had happened inside the gate, offered no resistance at all. He simply allowed them to restrain him while muttering incoherent words about masks.
As I realized my situation, I stopped resisting. If anything, that seemed to increase the soldiers' suspicion toward me.
I had expected some chaos or questioning when we came out… but not this.
And certainly not this level of hostility.
This kind of special-forces reception had never crossed my mind.
Teenagers who had survived an A-rank horror story.
"Conduct an immediate and thorough scan for any contamination, external control, or other anomalies!" Aurora Phoenix ordered again, her voice devoid of sympathy or compassion—only strict authority.
The medical teams in white suits approached us and began running quick scans using portable devices that emitted electronic buzzing sounds.
"Ding-ding-ding!"
I felt the prick of a sharp needle in my neck, followed by a cold scanning light passing over my eyes and across my body.
"Parasite scan completely negative, Professor Phoenix!" one doctor shouted after a moment, his voice echoing across the yard.
"No clear signs of brainwashing or direct mental control on any of them!" another doctor added while examining his device's screen.
"Stress levels are dangerously high in the first three. The fourth—" he pointed to Samuel "—shows signs of severe confusion and possible partial memory loss, but there is no clear physical contamination detectable with current field methods."
Dean Hargrove let out a slight sigh of relief, as if a mountain had been lifted from his shoulders.
But Professor Aurora Phoenix did not move an inch.
Her piercing gaze remained fixed on us, moving between our pale restrained faces as if trying to read us—or uncover lies we hadn't yet spoken.
"There is something extremely suspicious here," she finally said.
"An F-rank training gate does not randomly transform into something this dangerous. Energy waves and unstable emissions equivalent to at least an A-rank gate were detected moments before it reopened and you exited."
"And four novice students—most with modest statistics—walking out of a threat of that magnitude alive… is not normal at all."
She paused for a moment before adding in a tone that allowed no argument:
"They will all be interrogated individually and in detail. Immediately. We must know exactly what happened inside that gate… and who or what is responsible for this dangerous development."
"Wait a moment!" Maya tried to protest or at least understand the situation.
But she was quickly silenced by the soldier behind her.
At the same time, the soldiers began escorting us away—each of us in a different direction.
Another game.
This time not at the hands of a mad clown… but at the hands of worried bureaucrats and suspicious investigators.
What an upgrade.
After we were taken away from that warm welcome yard, each of us was placed in a separate metal box that looked like a mobile prison.
I waited for my turn.
This kind of reception was expected—no, it was normal.
Three teenagers walking out of an A-rank horror story?
Something was definitely wrong.
And I already knew that some entities could brainwash people… manipulate their minds… or even implant strange things in humans.
Or even plant their authority inside them—what was known as contamination.
Because of contamination, some humans eventually become contractors of those entities… willingly or not.
I wondered what kind of tragic comedy or Greek drama my fellow survivors would perform for the investigators.
I didn't need the skill [Narrative Architect's Blueprint] to predict that their stories would be… colorful, to say the least.
[Perspective: Maya Hawthorne]
Maya sat on the cold metal chair, her bound hands trembling involuntarily in her lap.
The room was small, and the gray walls felt as though they were pressing in on her.
Across from her sat a young investigator with a stern face and sharp eyes that missed nothing.
A small recording device on the metal table between them emitted a faint hum, like a small hungry beast waiting to feed on her words.
"Student Hawthorne," the investigator began in a calm, neutral voice trained not to reveal emotion.
"We are here to understand exactly what happened inside Gate 17. I want you to start from the beginning—from the moment you entered."
He reassured her gently.
"Take your time and try to remember every detail, even those that might seem unimportant or strange to you. Are you ready?"
Maya nodded with difficulty and swallowed, her throat dry as sandpaper.
"Yes… I think so."
Slowly, she began recounting the events. Her voice was low and shaky at first, then gradually gained strength as she relived the horror.
She described entering the dark corridors and the goblins that seemed more annoying than dangerous.
Then her voice began trembling noticeably as she spoke about the gate's sudden transformation.
"Everything… everything changed in an instant," she said, her eyes widening at the memory.
"The walls looked older… and the smell… it became different. Sweet in a disgusting way. Then we heard that laughter… and that voice…"
She stopped and took a deep, shaky breath.
"He appeared… the 'Master of Masks.' He was terrifying… incredibly powerful. And he started talking about a carnival… about games… about taking our faces…"
"And what about student Samuel Ko?" the investigator asked calmly, interrupting the flow of her terrifying memories.
Maya burst into near hysteria, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.
"Samuel… oh my God, Samuel! They… they put that white mask on him… and I saw him change right before my eyes! His smile… his teeth… he wasn't Samuel anymore! He became one of those masked dolls!"
Her sobs shook her slender body.
The investigator waited patiently until she calmed down before guiding the conversation again.
"Student Hawthorne, I need you to focus. What was student Adam Lester doing during all this?"
Maya wiped her tears with her sleeve and tried to gather her thoughts.
"Adam…"
She hesitated, her expression filled with deep confusion.
"At first… when the gate changed and the 'Master of Masks' appeared… I thought he was scared like the rest of us—maybe even more. But he was strangely calm… like he wasn't really there with us sometimes. He would stare into space or mutter things I couldn't understand."
"But… when the Master of Masks started talking about his horrible games and threatening us… Adam… Adam changed."
"How did he change?" the investigator asked, his pen moving quickly across his notebook.
"He… he challenged him!" Maya said, her voice still filled with disbelief.
"That terrifying clown who looked like he could crush us with a single word—and who controlled everything around us—and Adam… Adam stood in front of him boldly and said his games were boring and stupid!"
Her eyes widened as she spoke.
"Then… then he started talking about a card game! Like he was… like he was talking to a friend—or like a fool who wasn't afraid of death at all!"
She paused and took another shaky breath.
"Then… during the game… I saw him crying! He completely broke down and put his head on the table! I thought we were finished… that all hope was lost… but suddenly he stopped crying and started playing in a very strange way… and the Master of Masks became angrier with every card Adam played!"
"Then… that damned clown started shouting loudly. He said things about Adam… like that he was a 'great gambler' who gambled with our lives and his own without even blinking!"
"He even said Adam reminded him of himself when he was young… or something like that! And then he offered him a job in his cursed carnival!"
Maya gasped again, her eyes wide with terror and confusion as she remembered that surreal moment.
The investigator's expression slowly changed as he continued writing.
"And what did Adam do when the Master of Masks offered him the job?" he asked calmly.
"Adam… refused the offer!" Maya said, her voice rising with emotion.
"He refused it! Like… like he had expected it—or like it was normal for a monster from hell to offer him a job! He was… manipulating him the whole time! Wasn't he? Even his crying… it must have been part of his twisted plan! Oh my God… he was ready to sacrifice all of us for a crazy game… just to impress that monster!"
The investigator's expression hardened.
"So the Carnival Master…"
…