Lukas turned sharply to see Trent standing behind him.

The man was grinning widely with a delighted expression on his face, his eyes twinkling as if he’d just found something very entertaining.

He strolled towards Lukas, looking unconcerned about the situation or where they were.

"It really is you," he said, the grin widening. He spoke as if he’d just met an old friend on the street.

Lukas hissed through his teeth. "Why would you say my name out loud? Are you doing this on purpose? To out my identity?"

Trent laughed quietly, finally lowering his voice until only two of them could hear it.

"Relax. Everyone in this room is on the same train. It wouldn’t take more than a morning of asking or checking around to identify every person here. The masks might look cool or make you feel secure, but don’t tell me you actually believe they work."

He shrugged. "Your name being said once doesn’t change the facts."

Lukas glared at him. "That doesn’t mean you needed to go out of your way to announce it."

"Fair." Trent raised both hands slightly. "I won’t do it again."

"See that you don’t."

Trent’s expression shifted from his grin to curiosity. "You’re here for the game?" He asked.

"Why else would I be here?" Lukas retorted, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Trent chuckled in response. "Good. I’m looking forward to it."

He glanced around the room. "I didn’t win the last match, but at least I survived it. But this time, I intend to win."

Lukas frowned. "Survived?"

"In these games, anyone here can die at any point," Trent said "That includes me. And now you. Nobody is safe. Not from the fellow competitors or the game itself."

Lukas said nothing.

He’d already come here suspecting he would be in danger, so all he’d done was confirm it.

His eyes moved across the room, taking in the masked faces, and the unmasked ones.

There were even a few people who seemed to know each other, conversing in low voices, but most stood alone.

Some of the people here wouldn’t survive this night. But when morning comes, would anybody notice their absence? And if they did, what would happen?

Had he gotten himself into something way above his capacity?

His gaze drifted back to Trent.

The man had been at the cafeteria game, and he was here now. It was a bit... suspicious how the man was everywhere.

Something occurred to him. ’Could he be the one the quest wants me to find?’

Lukas exhaled. ’Probably not.’

Trent was way too relaxed, and too willing to be seen. The person the system had flagged as being where they shouldn’t be would likely look nothing like that.

"Is this your first time?" Trent asked.

Lukas opened his mouth to answer, but that was when a hush fell over the carriage.

He felt as the atmosphere changed, the air growing colder by a few degrees.

A man entered the room from the front, and Lukas focused on him immediately.

No matter how hard he strained, he couldn’t see the man’s face clearly, even though the man made no attempt to hide his face.

No matter how hard he concentrated, it was as if the air around the man’s face kept distorting. Whatever skill or [Item] was responsible for it, it was effective.

The man stopped at the front of the room and turned to face them.

Lukas felt as the man’s Adept aura began moving slowly, spreading across the room, covering every other aura present and swallowing them into it.

The Awakeners in the carriage became invisible beneath it, their individual presences smothered.

An Adept on the train? A suspicion began building within him and it was confirmed almost immediately.

"Welcome," the man said. "I am the conductor of this train, and this is another edition of the Death Game."

No one in the room reacted with surprise. They had known what they were walking into.

"As I’m sure you all know, we only have one rule. The winner takes all." He paused. "This edition will run across three rounds over two nights. One round tonight, and two rounds tomorrow night to decide the winner."

He stared at them for a few seconds before continuing.

"However, the prize for this edition has been updated."

Again, there was no visible reaction from the assembled players. Lukas glanced around. They had known this too.

"The winner will receive a Fate Key."

Lukas frowned at that. ’What’s a Fate Key?’

He had no idea what it was, but judging by the lack of reaction around him, it was clear that whatever it was, everyone else in the room appeared to already understand its value.

Well, it didn’t matter. He would learn what it meant when he won the game.

"Your first round begins in sixty seconds." The conductor spread his hands out. "Welcome to the switching room."

He walked to the door and left, pulling it shut behind him.

The moment the door closed, the carriage transformed.

The dim light disappeared, replaced by brightness that came from the floor itself.

The tiles beneath their feet, which Lukas had seen was a standard checkered pattern when he entered, were now glowing brightly from within, each one a different vivid color.

He could identify green, red, blue, yellow, orange, and purple, the colors shifting in intensity for a few seconds before stabilizing.

Each tile was exactly one foot square, enough for one person to stand on comfortably or two to occupy with effort.

Lukas looked down.

He was standing on a green tile.

He looked across the room at the other players, each one standing on their own square of color, the pattern spreading across the entire floor of the carriage.

A bright red light bloomed on the ceiling above them.

Every head in the room tilted up simultaneously. The number sixty burned in the air above them for a few seconds, then it flashed and began counting down.

Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight.

Lukas pulled his attention from the ceiling and looked around the room.

Several tiles had begun to flash randomly around the carriage, but some still remained the same.

There was no pattern to the flashing or why the tiles were flashing, so there was no way to predict it.

He looked down and saw that his green tile was flashing too.

Fifty-five. Fifty-four.

He didn’t know what would happen when the counter reached zero.

The conductor hadn’t explained the mechanics or given them any instructions, so they’d have to figure it out themselves.

Would the flashing tiles mean safety?

Or would they mean something worse?

The clock kept counting down.

Fifty. Forty-nine.