The Game Master's Welcome

Julian "Jules" Vance

The alarm clock buzzed like an angry wasp, but Julian "Jules" Vance didn’t stir. His bedroom, a battlefield of clothes, snack wrappers, and half-filled notebooks, reflected the chaos of his life.

“Julian!” Cathy Vance’s sharp voice cut through the morning stillness. “Get up, or you’re going to be late for school!”

Jules groaned, swinging a sluggish arm to silence the clock. Another day, another detention. The only thing that got him out of bed was the thrill of causing trouble. Teachers dreaded him, students admired him—at least, the ones who thought his antics were funny. He had turned rebellion into an art form, mastering the timing of snide remarks and pulling off elaborate pranks. Setting off fire alarms during chemistry, filling lockers with glitter, or sneaking fake announcements into the intercom were just typical Jules things.

Beneath his mischievous grin, though, Jules carried a heavy burden he rarely acknowledged. His father’s departure had left more than an empty chair at the dinner table; it had shattered his sense of stability. He hated seeing his mom’s tired eyes as she juggled bills and exhaustion, but he didn’t know how to help—or if she’d even let him.

He buried his feelings under layers of bravado, wearing his "troublemaker" title like armor. He hated asking for help, hated showing weakness. Instead, he doubled down on being the guy who could laugh off anything.

Grabbing his backpack and shrugging on a hoodie, he called, “Love you, Mom!” before rushing out the door without waiting for her reply.

That night, after another detention and a walk home beneath dim streetlights, Jules took a shortcut through an alley. He didn’t see the shadow behind him until it was too late. A sharp pain struck the back of his head, and the world went dark.

Lila "Lily" Matthews

Lily Matthews gripped the sink, her knuckles pale against the porcelain. “You’ve got this,” she whispered, though her reflection seemed unconvinced.

The other voice in her head—the darker, sharper one—was less kind. “They don’t deserve your help, Lily. They’ll just take and leave you empty.”

“Shut up,” she hissed under her breath. Dr. Eva Wilkins had told her that acknowledging the voice was the first step to controlling it. Years of therapy had helped her manage her duality, but some days, her grip felt paper-thin.

From the outside, Lily was the perfect student and model citizen. She organized fundraisers, tutored struggling peers, and volunteered at the community center every weekend. Her classmates called her an angel, but Lily often wondered if they truly saw her.

Her darker side—what she called her second persona—was always lurking. It whispered doubts into her ear, sowed seeds of resentment, and thrived on her exhaustion. Over the years, she’d grown skilled at pretending everything was fine. Even as she crumbled inside, she smiled and said “yes” to every favor.

It wasn’t until she collapsed in her room, sobbing over a math assignment she didn’t even need to finish, that she admitted something was wrong. Dr. Wilkins suggested online classes to ease the pressure, and Lily reluctantly agreed. But even now, the voice wouldn’t leave her alone.

Walking home from therapy that evening, Lily didn’t notice the figure waiting in the shadows. A hand clamped over her mouth, and a sharp prick to her neck stole the world from her.

Bianca "Bree" Navarro

Bianca "Bree" Navarro sprawled across her bed, scrolling through a flood of notifications. Her latest selfie had racked up hundreds of likes, the comments fawning: “Absolute queen!” “Obsessed with you!”

She smirked, tossing the phone aside. Bree had mastered the art of perfection—at least on the surface. Beneath the filters and fake smiles, her world felt hollow.

Her father, Carlos, worked long hours as a mechanic to provide for her. It wasn’t lost on Bree how hard he worked, sacrificing weekends and holidays to keep their modest home afloat. She appreciated it, but it also left her feeling disconnected. The love was there, but the distance between them grew wider with each passing year.

To fill the void, Bree turned to social media. She carefully curated her online persona, crafting the perfect image of a girl who had it all: beauty, popularity, and an endless string of admirers. But it was exhausting, the constant pressure to maintain her image. She couldn’t let anyone see the cracks beneath the surface—the loneliness, the doubt, the longing for something real.

When Ethan entered her life, he shattered her bubble. He didn’t fawn over her or feed into her carefully cultivated ego. Instead, he looked past her exterior, something no one else seemed to bother doing. His indifference rattled her, but it also intrigued her.

That night, as she reapplied her makeup for another party, a knock at the door interrupted her routine. Expecting a friend, she opened it without hesitation. The figure on the other side wore a mask. Bree had no time to scream before darkness enveloped her.

Ethan "E" Calloway

Ethan Calloway doodled in his notebook, ignoring his teacher’s monotone lecture. The superhero in his sketches was everything Ethan wasn’t: brave, bold, and larger than life.

“Ethan,” Max whispered, nudging him. “Lunch. You coming, or are you too busy saving the world?”

Ethan smirked, snapping the notebook shut. Despite his aloof demeanor, Max was one of the few people he let in. Ethan hated the spotlight that came with his natural charisma. People expected him to be confident, but all he wanted was to disappear into his music or art.

Ethan’s life was a quiet rebellion. He avoided parties, ignored trends, and chose solitude over socializing. While others fought for attention, Ethan found comfort in the background, sketching heroes who could conquer worlds and writing lyrics he’d never share.

Music and art were his escapes, but they also served as barriers. Ethan’s parents—successful but emotionally distant—always pushed him toward achievements he didn’t care about. They didn’t understand why he wasn’t excelling like his older siblings or why he spent hours lost in his guitar or sketchpad. Their disapproval weighed on him, even if he rarely showed it.

That night, Ethan strummed his guitar, letting the chords wash over him. A shadow flickered outside his window, followed by the shatter of glass. A masked figure lunged at him, and a sharp pain radiated from his side as the guitar fell silent.

The Game Begins

When Jules woke, the cold, hard floor pressed against his cheek. His head throbbed as he blinked against dim, flickering light.

“Where…?” he muttered, struggling to sit up.

Across the room, a girl with wide eyes hugged herself tightly. She gasped, her voice trembling. “What is this place?”

“Who are you?” Jules demanded.

Before she could answer, a groan echoed from the corner. Ethan stirred, followed by Bree, who shot up in alarm.

“Ethan?” Bree’s voice quivered. “What’s going on?”

Ethan barely had time to reply before a screen on the wall flickered to life. A figure in a mask appeared, twirling a cane.

“Welcome, Players, to Survival’s Edge!” His voice was unnervingly cheerful. “I’m the Masked Manager, your host. Instructions will follow shortly. Good luck!” He ended with a flourish, and the screen went dark.

The four exchanged uneasy glances.

“Anyone else feel like this just got way too real?” Jules muttered.

“What does he mean, ‘players’?” Lila asked, her voice soft. “What kind of game is this?”

Bree’s voice rose, panic creeping in. “Wait, players? Are there others here too?”

The screen lit up again, this time displaying a blood-red message:

Level 1: Trust is Key. Choose a Leader.

You have 10 minutes. Failure to comply will result in elimination.

A heavy silence settled over the room.

“Well,” Jules said with a grim smile, “this should be interesting.”

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***