As Iliya climbed up the stairs that ran up the western side of the building, he looked out the long window on the left hand side of the staircase. The window stretched down all three floors, almost making up a wall of glass. It was spring, and students liked to lounge outside on the small quad squared between the four main buildings that made up the campus. It was a place of soft reprieve in the middle of the city, and people stopped there to rest even in the dead of winter. Even though it was around five o’clock and the weather was comfortable, no one could be seen. In fact, there was something strange about the scenery. There was no wind, no movement from pigeons or squirrels. Not even the usual trashy detritus of the city hid in various corners of the scene. The world outside was flat, like a painting. Paired with the ominous silence coating the building, Iliya felt he was in another world. Aside from the soft falls of his footsteps, he couldn’t hear any students beginning to pour out of their lecture classes, or professors coming in and out of their offices. Even worse, Iliya couldn’t hear the frantic sounds of searching he expected from Professor Antoni. Iliya hoped he was beginning his search on the ground floor, and then would slowly work his way up. It would give Iliya more time.

Iliya doubled his place after ascending the stairs. For now, he was pretty sure that Professor Antoni wasn’t following him, unless he somehow had a way to conceal his presence. If this really was a game of some kind, there probably was some way to gain items or abilities, but Iliya knew his game was set on a tutorial level for him. It wouldn’t give him an opponent that was impossible for him to beat. He wondered about his friend, Dassi. She was the one who had sent him the link that started this all. Once he reached the third floor, he took an immediate right and entered the door to Garrison’s lecture hall. There was definitely supposed to be a class at this time, but the hall was completely quiet. Nothing in the hall suggested it would be important for the game he was forced into playing, so Iliya decided to take a little bit of time to look at the addition to his phone.

Iliya took his phone out from where he had previously stuck it in its pocket. The phone had not returned to the lockscreen. It had the same ominous message as before, still counting down despite the fact that time clearly was not moving:

Challenger Red, you have been assigned the mission challenge Feed the Kitten.

To win, you must do as the Moderator asked within the time frame of 1:45.

Lose, and you will suffer punishment.

However, at the top of the screen, there were a few tabs that had not been on the screen before. Unfortunately he was unable to read them or click on them- they were blocked with a little lock icon. This is a tutorial, Iliya remembered. I’ll definitely unlock things if I manage to beat this game. What were the other games like, though? Again, Iliya’s thoughts strayed to Dassi. Had someone sent her the link to this game, too? Or did she have to begin on a harder mode? Maybe if she didn’t have to do the tutorial, she directly got abilities or items to help her, Iliya griped. He was upset with Dassi, of course. There was a 95% chance that she had been aware of what these games were when she sent him an invite. In fact, if his hunch was correct, she definitely knew more than him- enough to know what kind of punishment was issued for failure.

He remembered the bodies the professor claimed to have found- burned, with their phones face up on their chest. Iliya did not want to find out if punishment could be as deadly as he thought it might be. With that thought in his head, Iliya rushed out of the lecture hall and went to the place he thought was most likely to have clues regarding the game he was playing.

Iliya slowed his brisk walking speed down when he reached the place he decided to start his search: the art exhibit hall. When he reached the hall, he knew he was on the right track. Every other part of the Garrison building had been exactly the same as it had been before the game, but the hall was different. Just an hour ago, the hall was exhibiting a collection by one of the university’s most promising modern arts students. Dynamic sculptures and bright, colorful paintings lined the walls. Now the hall was filled with strange, horrible portraits. One close to Iliya depicted a woman who looked as if her eyes had been clawed from her face, mouth gaping in a scream. Another showed a man who appeared to have been starved. Bones jutted out from under his skin and he clutched at his ragged clothes in agony. Iliya scanned over the portraits, looking for any clues, but nothing was readily apparent. There was only a strange itchy feeling, as if someone was watching him. He turned around. Nothing. Convinced that he should remain on guard, Iliya continued on to the second room in the hall, the room at the edge of the building. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small pen. It wasn’t much in the way of a weapon, and he really wasn’t intimidating with his gentle looks and patterned lunch bag under his arm, but if something attacked him, a pen was better than nothing. Besides, the other room that made up the exhibit hall was promising.