The Rules Of The Game

Duskvale Central Storage Facility – Basement Level 4 | 5:29 A.M.

The metal door creaked louder than it should have.

Elias stepped through the threshold, boots echoing off cold concrete. The hallway was lined with dead lightbulbs and rusted filing cabinets—every inch of the place screamed “forgotten.”

Room 413 was real.

But it wasn’t part of any precinct blueprint he’d seen. Not in the archives, not in the backup logs, not in any digital records. It was like the room had been erased... or never meant to exist.

The key slid into the lock with a metallic click.

He paused. Listened.

Nothing.

Then he opened it.

Inside was a small, windowless storage room. A single hanging bulb buzzed overhead like it was gasping for life. Dust coated everything—shelving units, broken desks, crime scene boxes piled to the ceiling. But on the center table, untouched by time, lay one object.

A cassette player.

Elias stared at it, breath steady.

He walked to the table. Hit play.

A slow whir.

Then the tape crackled to life.

And the voice returned.

The Architect (recorded):

“Welcome, Elias.

If you're hearing this, it means you’re still alive.

I admire that. Most would’ve turned back by now.”

“This isn’t a riddle. This isn’t a trap. Not yet.

This is your warning.”

“Everything you thought you knew about this city is a lie.

The people you trusted. The mentors you followed.

The badge you wore so proudly…”

“It’s all rotten.”

“They taught you how to solve puzzles.

But they never taught you what to do when you become one.”

The tape stopped.

Click.

A second tape was underneath, labeled in red ink:

“Case 014 – CLOSED FILE – DO NOT REOPEN”

Elias stared at it. He hadn’t seen that case number in over ten years.

He pulled out his notebook, flipped to the back, and jotted a single line:

“He knows about 014.”

That case wasn’t supposed to exist anymore.

And if The Architect was referencing it, then this wasn’t just a game—it was personal.

Scene Shift – Elias’s Apartment | 6:44 A.M.

Elias returned to his apartment, locking the door behind him out of habit. It was small, dark, sparsely decorated—nothing anyone could trace. No photos. No keepsakes.

Just walls and weapons.

He placed the second tape on the desk, staring at it like it might explode. Then he sat down and played it.

“Case 014. A girl. Seventeen. Found at the docks.”

“Murdered by someone connected to the DPD.”

“Evidence was buried. Witnesses vanished. Case was sealed.”

Elias felt his stomach twist.

He had investigated that case—barely a rookie back then. They told him to drop it. They told him the suspect was “untouchable.”

They were right.

The suspect was the son of a high-ranking official. Everything was swept under the rug.

He remembered her name now.

Riley Marez.

He had failed her.

The Architect hadn’t.

The tape crackled one last time.

“You want to stop me, Elias?

Then solve what you couldn’t ten years ago.

Open the case they forced you to bury.

Find the truth about Riley.

And maybe—just maybe—I'll let you die with peace.”

Click.

Silence.

Elias leaned back in his chair, eyes closed.

Elias (inner monologue):

“This isn’t about justice anymore.

He’s digging into my past. My failures. My guilt.”

“He doesn’t want to be caught.

He wants to break me.”

He opened the drawer, pulled out the faded file from 014. It was torn, nearly empty, but one photograph remained.

A girl. Black hoodie. Red headphones. Dead eyes.

He swallowed hard.

Elias (inner monologue):

“I remember her scream.

And how fast they made it disappear.”

Scene Shift – Downtown Duskvale | 8:10 A.M.

As sunlight finally bled through the clouds, Elias walked alone through the market district. Nobody knew his name here. To them, he was just another tired face.

But the moment he passed the corner of 7th and Baldwin, he stopped.

On the wall, in the same red spray paint:

“RILEY DESERVED BETTER.”

And beneath it, something new—

A phone number.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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