He touched his face, heart pounding.
"Where… am I?" he whispered.
Disoriented, Brian tried to get out of bed—but a sharp pain shot through his body. He gasped and clutched his neck. Thick bandages wrapped tightly around it. His small fingers brushed over them carefully.
Someone had tried to kill him.
Or at least, to kill the body he was now inside.
Anger flickered through him. The idea that someone would deliberately harm a child made his stomach twist.
The rustling of movement stirred the girl sleeping beside him. Brian froze as she slowly woke, rubbing her eyes. She blinked several times, scanning the room—then her gaze landed on him.
"Brian!" she screamed.
Before he could react, she rushed forward. Brian tried to dodge, but his body was weak, small, and unbearably tired. He couldn't move fast enough.
She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, sobbing in relief.
On the other side of the bed, a boy shot upright. "I wasn't sleeping!" he shouted, scanning the room tensely. When he saw the girl hugging Brian, he relaxed and sighed.
"Damn it… you scared me," he complained.
She ignored him and kept hugging Brian.
After what felt like forever, she finally let go. Brian exhaled quietly—the overwhelming affection had made him uncomfortable. He stared at the two children cautiously.
"Uh…" He opened his mouth, unsure where to begin.
The girl tilted her head. "What's wrong?" she asked anxiously. Fear flickered across her face.
Brian swallowed. "Who… are you?"
The atmosphere shattered instantly.
The girl's eyes filled with tears. They turned red almost immediately. The boy clenched his fists, teeth grinding in anger.
The girl grabbed Brian's hands desperately. "What do you mean, who are we?" Her grip tightened until his wrists began to redden. "Brian, it's me—your friend. Don't you remember? It's Ilda!"
Brian shook his head slowly.
He had no memory of her.
The boy stepped in. "Calm down, Ilda. Forcing him won't help." His voice was steady. "We need to take this slowly."
Brian studied him closely.
The boy's body was small, but his eyes were not. There was something old in them—too old. Like an elderly man trapped in a child's body.
The boy sighed and turned to Brian. "This is… an unfortunate situation. To keep it simple, brother—this is Grimoire Isle."
Brian frowned.
"And as kids," the boy continued, "we're basically in rough terrain."
Brian didn't understand a word of it.
"Can you stand?" the boy asked.
Brian clenched his fists and nodded. He slid off the bed and examined himself. Small. Fragile. About five years old.
Too vulnerable.
The other two were taller. Stronger.
"Ilda," the boy said firmly, "get yourself together. Go prepare. Ask our genitors for the necessities for today's game."
Ilda hesitated, then stood. She glanced back at Brian with hollow eyes before leaving the room.
After she left, the boy looked down at Brian. "My name is Band," he said, smiling slightly. He gestured for Brian to follow.
Brian complied.
The world felt wrong.
The air itself felt strange as they walked down the corridor. Band opened a door, and Brian followed—only to be hit by a surreal sensation.
The place was familiar… and alien at the same time.
It looked like a childhood home—but not quite.
Outside, countless children were gathered, playing what looked like various games. Some Brian recognized. Others felt completely foreign.
"Children's games?" Brian asked hesitantly.
Band looked down at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"
His eyes twitched slightly. "This isn't a game. It's training."
Brian stared at him, his expression clearly saying Do you take me for an idiot?
Band misunderstood the look and continued. "These kids are training to survive. I know you're not fully recovered yet, but the games are coming soon. We'll do light training for now."
Brian didn't understand—but nodded anyway.
As he trained, he learned more.
His current body was five years old—the proper age to start the games. At some point, children would be summoned to an arena, where a game would be chosen. Winning meant survival.
He didn't fully grasp it.
While doing squats, a question escaped him. "Aren't there adults to stop this?"
Band frowned. "Don't count on our genitors. They can't help us." He continued his push-ups. "They have their own games to survive."
Band was in his mid-teens—one of the oldest, alongside Ilda.
And there were others.
As the cold crept in, Brian noticed something unsettling.
Throughout training, no adults appeared.
Later, Ilda and other girls arrived with food and supplies. Each child received a bag, water, and protective gear. When Brian put it on, he felt like some kind of underground superhero—dark, hidden.
He smiled.
"Look," one kid whispered. "He's smiling."
They stared at Brian like he was an alien.
It had started when Brian laughed during training—especially when he was eliminated. It got worse when he complimented another kid for eliminating someone else. The kid glared at him and walked away.
Band sighed. Ilda closed her eyes and left with the others.
Brian soon noticed something else—boys and girls trained separately. They only gathered during meals or general assemblies.
No one was blood related. Yet everyone called each other family based on hierarchy and age. Band held the highest position—the "big brother."
Brian approached Band, who was speaking with another elder. Band dismissed the other and turned to Brian.
"Need something?"
Brian sighed. "Everyone's tense. Like something terrible is about to happen."
Band looked at the sky. "When the summoning starts, maybe your memories will come back." He paused. "I just hope you don't die this time."
This time? Brian wondered.
Before he could ask—
A blaring alarm roared across the compound.
Band turned sharply. Ilda ran toward them.
"What are you doing?!" Band snapped.
Ignoring him, Ilda knelt and hugged Brian tightly. "Please come back," she whispered. "Courage is born from fear. Channel it. Take one step toward life."
Brian blinked, confused.
She kissed his forehead.
Then—
Golden light engulfed Brian.
Purple light wrapped around Band and Ilda as they rose into the sky.
Brian couldn't move.
Couldn't scream.
His vision drowned in gold.
He slammed onto a hard, black surface.
Pain exploded through him as monstrous cheers echoed around the arena. Hundreds of children stood nearby, trembling beneath a vast, dark ceiling.
DING.
The sound vibrated through his bones.
DING.
Words appeared.
HIDE AND SEEK
Seekers — Blue
Hidden — Red
Found = Dead
Brian's clothes turned red.
A dagger appeared in his hand.
His blood ran cold.
Across from him, blue-clad children stared with killing intent.
The floor shook violently. Walls rose from the ground, forming a massive labyrinth.
Hide and Seek had begun.
"What kind of game is this…?" Brian whispered.
The seekers rushed forward.
Screams followed.