Slave of Fate

they moved space in an ancient , vast places

The walls of the ancient structure were inscribed with strange, cryptic symbols—ancient runes and intricate drawings that seemed to cover every inch of the stone. They weren't just decorations, but a language, an eerie, untranslatable script that radiated an unsettling energy. Even the faintest glow from the walls made the air feel thick with mystery.

No. 8 didn't pause as he led Rudra through the winding hallways. They eventually stopped at a door, and without a moment's hesitation, No. 8 shoved Rudra inside. A small pouch of food was tossed beside him with an indifferent gesture. Without another word, the door was locked, and No. 8's heavy footsteps faded away into the distance.

---

*Several hours passed...*

Rudra woke slowly, his expression as blank and emotionless as always. His eyes scanned the room with disinterest, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. His calm demeanor was something most adults would envy in moments like this. While others might have panicked or scrambled for answers, Rudra did nothing. He simply observed.

So, he knew,* Rudra thought quietly, his gaze flickering to the food pouch beside him. No. 2 knew I was faking. He didn't tell No. 8. Strange. But it worked out. He left me the pouch...

Without further hesitation, Rudra grabbed the food and began to eat. There was no hesitation, no care for the taste—just the act of survival. He had no time for things like flavor. Food was fuel, and he needed it.

Once his hunger was sated, Rudra wandered around the room. His movements were slow, deliberate, as he inspected every inch of the space. There was something oddly soothing about it, as if the room itself was a puzzle he had to piece together. He didn't rush. No, he took his time. After a while, he sat down on the bed, his eyes unfocused, gazing at the ceiling.

Then, his fingers brushed against the device on his neck—the one No. 8 had strapped to him earlier. I almost forgot about this, Rudra thought. It looks ordinary enough, but there's something about it...

He ran his fingers along the edges of the device, but it didn't budge. It was firmly secured. It seemed to be more than just a simple piece of equipment. He tried to pry it off, but the wires felt like they were embedded deep into his skin, part of a mechanism he couldn't escape.

A sense of realization washed over him. *This device is tied to something bigger. Something I don't understand yet.*

His mind wandered back to the conversation he overheard between No. 2 and No. 8. They needed 1,000 people, and Rudra was the last one. But it was No. 2's absence that nagged at him. No. 2 didn't come with No. 8,Rudra reflected. If he succeeds in finding one more person before morning, my chances of surviving drop drastically. I'll become expendable.

Rudra rose to his feet, his eyes narrowing as he once again found himself staring at the walls. Why am I so drawn to these symbols?His gaze flicked over the strange markings. Rudra, ever the silent observer, couldn't help but examine the markings closely. Though he had no understanding of them, they tugged at something deep inside him, as if they were calling to him, whispering secrets just out of reach him

I've been looking at them all night, and I still don't understand anything. But... it's strangely... comforting. Like I'm missing something.*

A sudden buzzing sound interrupted his thoughts, and a voice—robotic and oddly playful—echoed throughout the room.

"Attention, everyone," the voice announced, crackling slightly. "This is an important message. In ten minutes, the room you're in will be detonated. If you're still inside when the countdown ends, well... let's just say you'll be joining the others in a much worse place." There was a long, exaggerated pause. "Heh. End of message. Oh, and one more thing. When the doors open, walk straight to the left. You'll find a large statue of a sword. Only 1,000 people will be allowed inside. If you're not in that group, the device around your neck will activate. Heh. Good luck."

The announcement ended with a click, and just like that, the doors of every room in the facility swung open simultaneously. Rudra's fingers brushed against the device on his neck, and a low red glow pulsed in time with the beat of his heart. It was a warning, a countdown. The others were panicking.

---

The floor trembled beneath Rudra's feet, and the walls shuddered as if they were about to collapse. The sound of frantic footsteps filled the air, the desperate cries of hundreds of people running for their lives. Panic spread like wildfire, and every person in the building was scrambling for the exit, racing against time.

But not Rudra. No. He simply stood there, unmoving, his gaze fixed on the markings on the walls. The chaos around him didn't touch him. He wasn't afraid. He wasn't running. His focus remained unwavering as if the madness around him were nothing but a distant echo. The words on the walls had taken root in his mind, and now, they were all that mattered.

I can't explain it, Rudra thought, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at the chaotic scene unfolding before him. *I'm not afraid. I'm not even worried. This—this is all part of the plan. I just need to keep moving. has started walking and I won't be left behind.

Because he knew only 1000 of participants exists in this place

And so, with deliberate slowness, Rudra turned toward the door. The frantic race to escape had already begun, but he didn't rush. He didn't need to. his steps methodical as he made his way toward the exit. While others dashed in panic, Rudra was walking in a world where time itself seemed to bend around him, his calm demeanor the only thing certain in the chaos