Chapter 2: Time that does not exist

**Outside the window — night.** The wind tested the endurance of the glass panes. Rain began to fall, heavy and loud, as if the sky had decided to empty itself all at once. In such weather, even those who'd usually welcome a storm wouldn't step outside.

All the participants sat in the living room. Waiting. For the final player. The one without whom none of this could begin. Or perhaps *shouldn't* have.

A clock hung from the ceiling. Black, gleaming. It showed the time. Six o'clock. Which seemed odd. According to the Conductor, time didn't exist here. Another irony? Or a clue?

The room held two sofas. Between them — a round table. Everything arranged in perfect symmetry. As if someone had calculated it all in advance. Down to the centimeter. Down to the game.

On one sofa — Yahweh and Hov. On the other — a girl. Silent. Uncomfortably silent. Enua stood by the window, leaning against the wall. Watching the rain blur the outlines of the trees outside.

— How much longer will this go on? — Enua finally broke the silence. — Unless I'm mistaken, we've been here nearly two hours.

His voice was calm, but it betrayed fatigue. Or irritation. Or boredom. Or all three at once.

— We weren't briefed. Beyond what the attendants told us. Until everyone's gathered, we're not moving, — Yahweh replied.

— True. — Enua nodded. — But standing around idle isn't an option. It's a good opportunity to… dig into the past. *Agh-haha-ghah*...

An awkward laugh. Or a nervous one. Hard to tell. The two varieties shared too much in common.

Yahweh glanced at him. The same Enua he'd once fought. Years ago. Back when everything was simpler. Or seemed to be.

— It's not the game itself that surprises me, — Enua spoke again. — It's that **we're** the ones playing. Who arranged this? Why resurrect **us**?

Silence. The question hung in the air like an unsent letter.

— We should talk to the attendants, — said Hov. — They've been here from the start. Must know *something*.

— I'll go with you, — Yahweh added. — Sharing intel now is a bad idea. There's only four of us. We don't know the girl. Enua… isn't exactly trust-worthy either.

— Right. They said they work from five to nine. The clock says six. So they're still here.

— Even though it looks like night outside. But with this weather—who can tell? Last I saw them, they were heading to the kitchen.

The walk to the kitchen took five minutes. The house wasn't built for convenience, but for… testing patience.

In the kitchen — quiet conversation. Morgana and Sheryl. Sheryl was washing dishes. Morgana noticed them first.

*knock-knock*

— Are we interrupting?

— Master Yahweh, Master Hov, — Morgana gave a slight bow. — Is everything alright?

— We have questions, — said Hov. — About all of this.

— Of course. We're listening, — Morgana nodded.

— What *is* this game? Why us? Who resurrected us?

— Forgive us… — Morgana averted her eyes. — We're forbidden to speak. The Mistress's orders.

— Don't worry, — Sheryl interjected. — She'll appear soon. It won't be long now. Not long at all.

And at that moment, the air in the room shifted. Sharply. Imperceptibly. But palpably. As if someone had entered. Though no one had.

They turned. No one. But the feeling lingered. Strong. Real.

— Did you feel that? — Hov.

— Yeah… You too?.. Hey! Did you two feel it?! Someone was behind us!

— It doesn't matter, — Sheryl said, expression unchanged. — You'll learn everything soon. Don't ask unnecessary questions. That's not our role.

— Maybe… we should rest. We haven't slept since arriving.

— Yes, we'll return later. By the way, what's your name? The others already introduced themselves.

— I'm Gerudo. A pleasure, Master Hov.

*a sharp click*

Hov's hand shot out — and clamped around Gerudo's throat.

— Master Hov! Stop! — Morgana screamed.

Sheryl didn't flinch.

— What the hell are you doing?! — Yahweh gripped Hov's shoulder.

— Think I'd act without reason? — Hov didn't let go. — Think. Who greeted us? Morgana and Sheryl. Where was Gerudo then?

— Cooking?

— Maybe. But how do you explain what we felt behind us? If someone *had* been there, Morgana would've seen. So… we're being tricked. Something was in the food. Or the drinks.

— You think he poisoned us?

— How else would you explain it?

Hov held on. Waiting.

— Alright… just let go… — Gerudo rasped.

Hov released him. Red marks remained on his neck.

— I didn't poison anything. My orders were just to bring food. I'm just a cook.

— That doesn't mean you're *just* a cook, — Hov said coolly.

— I can vouch, — said Sheryl. — I've been with him since the start. He added nothing. If you distrust him, you distrust us all.

— That's enough, I think, — Yahweh nodded.

— You've gone soft, Yahweh. — Hov smirked. — Fine. I'll concede. But then explain… *that*.

— Magic?

— But we all lost our powers upon arrival. That's one of the rules. The island strips abilities.

— If I may, — Gerudo said calmly. — That presence… was *her*.

Silence.

— The Mistress. She *does* exist. Her body awakens when the Game begins. Her soul is bound. She can't leave the island.

— Then what's her goal? Why *us*?

— I don't know. They didn't tell me.

— Predictable, — said Hov.

— How long have you worked here? — Yahweh asked.

— Years. Since the First Master's time. After his death, everything passed to her. That's when Morgana and Sheryl appeared.

— Time to head back.

— Apologies for the roughness, — Hov said. — I overdid it.

— It's fine. Everyone's on edge here.

They returned to the living room.

Enua sat with the girl. She remained silent. As before.

— We're back. Did you talk? — Yahweh asked.

— Just getting acquainted. Nothing important.

— So you *know* her? Then introduce her. She hasn't said a word all this time.

— Her name is Tiamut. Just an acquaintance.

— I see. We were told the final participant is close.

— So it begins soon.

They waited. Four of them. In a room where the ticking of the clock seemed to grow louder.

The rain outside intensified. The thunder — louder.

And then… the doors opened.

Footsteps. One. Two.

All looked up.

And… froze.

Instead of one participant — two entered.