White.
That was the first thing Ethan Cross saw.
Not light.
Not a room.
Just… endless white.
A dull ringing echoed in his ears as his vision slowly focused. Shapes began to form. Shadows. People.
Voices followed.
Confused. Panicked. Afraid.
"Where are we?!"
"What is this place?!"
Ethan didn't move.
His breathing was steady. Controlled.
Training.
A voice broke through the noise.
"…Hey."
Low. Calm.
Ethan blinked.
A woman stood over him. Around forty. Her eyes were sharp—too calm for someone in this situation.
"You're awake," she said.
Ethan pushed himself up slightly, scanning everything in seconds.
Crowd. No exits. No doors.
No weapons.
"…Where am I?" he asked quietly.
The woman didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she studied him.
"…You're not panicking," she said.
Ethan ignored that.
His eyes moved across the hall again—
And then it hit him.
These faces.
Fear. Confusion.
Recognition.
"…Missing people," he muttered.
Before he could say anything more—
The world blurred.
---
One hour earlier.
The sound of a television filled a quiet apartment.
"—Reports continue to rise as more individuals mysteriously disappear across multiple regions—"
Ethan Cross stood in front of the TV, adjusting his tie.
On screen—
Photos.
Faces.
Names.
Missing.
"…No signs of forced entry. No witnesses. Authorities remain—"
Click.
The TV muted.
Ethan stared for a second longer.
Something about it felt wrong.
From the kitchen—
"Breakfast's ready."
He turned.
His wife stood there, placing a plate on the table.
A simple sandwich. Warm.
Normal.
Ethan walked over, picking it up.
"You're leaving early again?" she asked.
"…Yeah. Busy day."
He took a bite, distracted.
His eyes weren't on the food.
They were somewhere else.
Thinking.
She noticed.
"…Work again?"
He didn't answer directly.
Instead, he finished quickly, stepped closer—
And hugged her.
A brief pause.
"…I'll be back," he said.
She smiled faintly.
"Be safe."
The engine started.
New York was already alive.
Cars. Horns. Movement everywhere.
Ethan drove through the streets, eyes sharp, alert.
Then—
A car.
Speeding.
Too fast.
Wrong lane.
Ethan's eyes narrowed.
"—"
He slammed the brake.
The other car shot past, missing him by inches.
Silence for a second.
Then traffic resumed like nothing happened.
Ethan exhaled slowly.
"…Idiot."
He continued driving.
---
Police station.
Noise. Phones ringing. Officers moving.
The same news played on a screen in the corner.
"—Authorities are still unable to determine the cause of these disappearances—"
Ethan walked in.
"Yo, Cross."
His partner approached, holding a file.
"This case is getting worse. More missing reports came in overnight."
"How many?" Ethan asked.
"Too many."
A pause.
"…Feels like they're just vanishing into thin air."
Ethan didn't respond.
He walked to his desk, dropped his keys, and grabbed a bottle of water.
Took a sip.
His eyes lowered.
Thinking again.
Blink.
---
White.
Again.
The bottle was gone.
The station was gone.
Everything—
Gone.
Ethan stood frozen for half a second.
Then his mind caught up.
Fast.
Too fast.
"…No transition," he murmured.
"Hey!"
The same woman from before.
She stepped closer now.
"You're a police officer, right?" she said.
Her voice was steady—but there was tension underneath.
"Please… help us. We don't know how we got here."
Ethan looked at her.
Then around.
Dozens of people.
All confused.
All scared.
And now—
He knew.
"…You're all missing," he said.
Murmurs spread.
"What?!"
"No—that's not possible!"
Ethan's eyes darkened slightly.
"This place…" he said quietly,
"…is connected."
Before anyone could react—
A sound echoed.
Sharp.
Clear.
Heels.
Everyone turned.
Above them—. A balcony.
A woman stood there.
Dressed in pure white.
Perfect posture.
Perfect smile.
No emotion in her eyes.
Silence fell instantly.
"Welcome," she said softly.
Her voice carried through the entire hall.
Cold.
Controlled.
"Level 1."
A pause.
Her smile widened slightly.
"Game 1 will begin shortly."
And in that moment—
The panic truly began.