A velvet room.
Candles.
Romantic.
One round table.
Two high-backed chairs.
One bottle of red Wine.
The fire from the candles reflects on the empty glasses.
A date or a duel.
Action–
He enters.
Player 2, The Judge.
Confident, Calculating.
He stares at the fire's reflection on her glass.
She arrives.
Player 7, The Saboteur.
Elegant, slow, confident as if she owned the room.
No words.
Just Looks.
Before she sits–
P2: "Would've pulled out the chair for you but I wasn't sure if you wanted a date or a duel"
P7: "I like both, if you can manage them."
She sits down slowly, hands resting on the table.
He mirrors her posture.
P2: "This setup is … romantic, almost enough to make me forget this is a game of knives."
P7: "Knives are romantic, in their own way."
P2: "Did you bring one?"
P7: "I prefer poison, subtle, elegant."
She lifts the bottle of wine and pours.
Just a touch more on his.
Her fingers brush his as she sets it down.
Not by accident.
Seductive.
He watches. Drinks without flinching.
P2: "Trust is Bold."
P7: "Or foolish"
P2: "Maybe both is what I'm after."
Silence.
A breath.
P2: "What do you see when you look at me?"
P7: "A man who controls people the way others write poetry. Precise. But lonely."
P2: "Lonely?"
A flicker.
Not quite hurt—curiosity.
P2: "And you? What do you want?"
P7: "To break something beautiful."
P2: "Am I beautiful?"
P7: "More so… scary."
The candles hiss.
He leans forward.
P2: "Let's stop pretending. I want you with me. Aligned. Protected."
He likes her, respects her, wants her.
P7: "You want protection from me."
P2: "No. I want your fire directed at them, not me."
She says nothing. Then:
P7: "Make me believe it."
P2: "Tonight, during the Confession, I'll call out someone. You follow through. Subtly. Enough to show you're mine."
P7: "And in return?"
P2: "You walk out of this game with your mask still whole."
A long pause. Then she stands, crosses behind him slowly—like a shadow.
She whispers:
P7: "That's a lovely offer, Your Honor."
Her fingers trail lightly over his shoulder.
"But I've never stayed whole for anyone."
The signal light flares. Time's up.
He rises, finishes his wine.
P2: "What will it be then?"
"Knife or poison?"
Player 7 softly said:
P7: "You should be glad I only like you."
"Love's a little more… Violent.
Player 7's eyes narrowed as she studied Player 2—so confident.
But beneath that carefully crafted mask, she sensed a flicker of something darker. Not fear. Not doubt. Something colder. Like a predator savoring the hunt before the kill. She smiled slightly, amused. This game might be more dangerous—and more delicious—than she'd thought.
Player 2 leaned back, excitement across his face. He thought about Player 7—so poised, so deliberately untouchable. Yet beneath that calm, he sensed a restless storm, a force that could unravel even the most carefully laid plans. He allowed himself a brief smile. The Saboteur wasn't just a threat—she was a challenge worth facing. He liked her more than the Lawyer.
Meanwhile, still in the Theatre…
Less confusion than before.
Still shock.
Still fear.
Player 4 — The Ghost.
Still reeling from the Lawyer's sudden gambit.
She had crossed him off. A bad guy.
Too loud.
Too sure.
Too eager to lead.
The others?
The Judge and the Saboteur?
They felt like… heroes.
And honestly—
"'Judge' does sound more heroic than 'Murderer.'"
That helped.
She had used her Quirk during their Date.
Just to be sure.
Just to know.
She saw something others missed:
Not kindness. Not goodness.
But clarity.
Strategy.
She found out their roles.
Their intentions.
And it left her in awe.
"Wow. They're smart. Dangerous… but smart."
They had a plan.
She wanted in.
She would follow the Judge's call-out during Confession.
Not out of loyalty.
Not yet.
But because she wanted to understand him.
To get close.
To see how far his vision reached—
And how long she could stay in the light before the masks shattered and the knives came out.
While the date was happening P3 requested to go to the bathroom.
"You weren't supposed to see that." –unknown
A chilling voice.
Player 3: "What was that?
Eerie.
"I'm imagining things."
Everyone would.