Luca stepped out of the store area, emerging into the gray afternoon. The strangeness of hearing the words he had read again and again years before lingered for a moment, but when he pulled out his phone and checked the time, the nostalgia died under the weight of reality. Fifteen minutes until the meeting at Office D33.


    His gaze drifted across the landscape, searching for the Main Hall. It wasn’t hard to find—a towering monolith of dark glass rising from the other side of the road. From this distance, it looked almost otherworldly, like a black tongue protruding from a red mouth. Well, it had to be said that it had its own kind of beauty.


    Luca took a deep breath, steeling himself, and began walking along the paved path that led toward it. The closer he got, the more imposing the structure became, its sheer size dwarfing everything around it. Shadows clung to its edges, pooling in the recesses between arched panels of glass.


    The entrance, an archway large enough for five people to enter side by side with their arms intertwined, stood open. Only as he approached did Luca notice details he hadn’t seen from afar: faint cracks spiderwebbing across the white concrete, barely visible until closer inspection. The patterns reminded him of the forked lightning he had seen from the airplane.


    But only for a moment.


    In a blink, everything smoothed out, like it had been only his imagination.


    Luca pursed his lips.


    A cold breeze swept through the area, carrying with it an unfamiliar, faint scent. Somewhere nearby, a bird cried out—a harsh, guttural sound that sent a shiver running down his spine. When he glanced up, he caught sight of it perched atop a window, its feathers blackened and matted, its eyes unnaturally bright.


    It stared directly at him, tilting its head as if studying him. Then, with a sudden flutter of wings, it vanished into the swirling clouds.


    I’d call it an omen if I was already working.


    Luca quickened his pace, finally passing under the arched entrance. The reception area beyond was unexpectedly opulent and modern, its red wooden counters gleaming under warm lighting that seemed almost too bright against the dreary whiteness outside. Behind one of the counters stood a woman—her skin unnervingly pale, almost translucent, and her crimson lips stretched into a poised smile.


    “Hello,” she said, her voice surprisingly deep for someone who looked so delicate. “Where do you need to go?”


    Luca returned the greeting, keeping his expression neutral, before answering, “Office D33.”


    She tapped something on her computer, the sound of her keystrokes unnaturally loud in the otherwise quiet space. Then she nodded, gesturing toward a corridor behind her with a graceful wave of her hand. “Follow that corridor and turn right at the end. Sixth door on your left.”


    “Thanks,” Luca said, offering a brief, grateful nod before following her instructions. As he stepped away from the counter, he couldn’t shake the feeling that her gaze lingered on him. For some reason, it felt like turning around would be a mistake, so he pressed on.


    The corridor she directed him to was starkly different from the lavish reception area. Narrow and sterile, with empty walls and only a faint hum of noise. The doors lining the hallway were plain, marked with golden signs—some displaying numbers, others letters, and a few with titles. It was a long corridor. Longer than he had expected.


    According to what he knew, the Main Hall boasted around a thousand floors, split between those above ground and those buried deep beneath it. Yet only a fraction of these floors were actively occupied. Delta claimed the first three; Gamma took the next three; Beta and Alpha occupied progressively higher levels. But the laboratories—that was where most of the activity truly resided, sprawling across dozens of subterranean floors. It was no surprise, really.


    Experiments required space. And secrecy. Particularly this kind of experiment.


    Despite the corridor’s length, it didn’t take Luca long to reach the end and make the turn. The journey was eerily uneventful—no mishaps, no people crossing his path. That last detail struck him as odd. He could hear the faint hum of activity echoing through the corridors: muffled voices, the clatter of footsteps, the occasional ring of a phone. Yet not a single soul appeared in front of him.


    Well, I won’t complain.


    As he found the sixth door, Luca paused briefly, studying it. Like the others, it was unremarkable—plain wood with a small brass plaque reading D33. Yes, there was no need to check further. Taking a steadying breath, he knocked gently, the sound reverberating softly against the polished surface.


    “Come in,” came the reply, a voice calm yet commanding. Familiar.


    He turned the handle and pushed the door open.


    Inside the office sat Michael, a figure Luca was beginning to know all too well. The man was seated behind a cluttered desk, in a chair large enough for two people. His glasses were perched neatly on his nose, reflecting the dim light of the muted white lamp, and his hair looked freshly styled, as if he’d visited a professional on his way to work. For some reason, he was dressed in a black leather jacket.


    “You’ve arrived just in time,” Michael said, his smile sharp as he spoke.


    Perhaps Luca hadn’t been stealthy enough to hide his glance—or the slight judgment in it. He felt a flicker of guilt, but black leather always reminded him of his little brother trying too hard to appear older.


    Michael gestured toward the seat in front of the desk. “I’ve already prepared what you need. Take a seat and look at this.”


    Luca obeyed, lowering himself into the chair. Michael slid a tablet across the desk. The weight of it felt lighter than it should have as Luca picked it up.


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    “You’ll find your manual there,” Michael explained, leaning back in his chair. “Make use of the time. The available information about your new mission is already inside, updated to the last round.”


    Luca nodded curtly but hesitated. “May I ask you a question?” When Michael gestured for him to continue, he said, “Is there any special way to activate Traits and Perks?”


    The man looked at him, the weight of his gaze heavy even behind the sunglasses. “No. They work automatically. You can ‘cancel’ them temporarily through the system, though.”


    “Ah, so it’s like that,” Luca murmured to himself.


    “If I may ask you a question now,” Michael began, slightly pushing his sunglasses up. “Did you obtain—?” He didn’t finish the sentence, but Luca knew exactly what he was referring to.


    “Yes,” Luca replied, pausing for a moment to consider how much to reveal. “It’s paired with my Trait. I got pretty lucky.”


    “I see.”


    The Traits of employees were available in the database, accessible to all agents and beyond. Michael, who was obviously the senior assigned to him, would already know what Luca’s Trait was. And while it was subtle, there were few Traits that paired as well with Stealthy as Night Vision. But would the man really make that connection?


    “If you have nothing more to ask, then you may continue reviewing the mission,” Michael said, his tone dismissive but not unkind.


    Luca nodded and pulled a sweet from his pocket, leaving it on the corner of the table. “Thank you, Michael.” Then, without waiting for a response, he turned his attention to the tablet. Once he unlocked the screen and settled into the seat for comfort, a simple interface appeared.


    The screen was divided into two columns, with the left, narrower one containing tabs. The first tab, the only one with text, read PRIMAL DREAM, accompanied by a single star. When Luca tapped it, the information appeared in the second column. A brief description outlined the setting of the Mystery: a carnivorous dinosaur zoo.


    As Luca distractedly noted how familiar it seemed, the sound of crinkling plastic and then tearing reached his ears.


    Suppressing a smile, he focused on the page. He recognized this—not by name, but by reputation. One of the named characters had met a tragic end there, devoured alive in a scenario that could only be described as a nightmarish, crueler version of Jurassic Park. Because here, this John Hammond hadn’t intended for his creations to stay inside their cells.


    A sharp knock echoed through the room, startling Luca from his thoughts.


    “Who?” Michael asked, as he moved around his desk, tossing something into the trash can.


    “Nagato,” came the reply, hesitant. “And Liona.”


    “Come in.”


    The door creaked open, revealing Tim and Samantha—or rather, Nagato and Liona. They stepped inside, their expressions guarded but tinged with apprehension. Both looked distinctly uncomfortable. Tim’s usual confidence seemed muted, replaced by a wary stiffness, while Samantha’s wide eyes darted around the room, avoiding both Michael and Luca.


    Michael gestured for them to sit, his movements precise and smooth. He pointed to the clock on the wall. “You’re late,” he remarked coolly, though there was no real accusation in his voice. To anyone else, it might have sounded like he was bored.


    Nagato cleared his throat awkwardly as he took a seat beside Luca. “Sorry. We got lost on the way here.”


    Liona nodded silently, her demeanor far shyer than Luca recalled from the bus.


    “Here. Study the material for the mission,” Michael said, handing out the tablets. “Understand the rules. Your lives will depend on it.”


    After that, silence fell over the group. Like the others, Luca focused on the tablet, skimming through the information. Under the summary, there was a section labeled Roles. There were only three: Visitor, Tour Guide, and Food Vendor. There wasn’t much detail about each one, except for the Death Rules.


    For Visitors, they couldn’t attempt to leave the park premises until closing time (or security would “take care” of them).


    For Food Vendors, they had to finish their shift at the store, unable to leave until the scheduled hour (not even for the bathroom). They had to work diligently, serving food to the best of their ability. Complaints would result in being taken by security and used as food for the park’s attractions.


    For Tour Guides, they had to go to work and complete the tour, unable to leave the vehicle until it ended. Running away before or during the tour didn’t work—security would deal with anyone who didn’t comply. There was an added twist: visitor satisfaction. If it dropped below three stars, the guide would be thrown out and fed to the attractions—presumably for the amusement of the visitors and the madman who designed the park.


    It was so obvious which role was the most problematic and what one was the ''easiest''. However, it was also true that in the Mysteries, what might have looked more convenient at first glance was not always so.  And what might have looked like the worst case could hold interesting chances.


    But back to what was written....


    In summary, everyone had to stay in their roles until the disaster began and couldn’t do anything to violate those roles in the meantime. But once everything went sideways, they could do whatever it took to survive without worrying about their assigned roles. They would all become Survivors.


    The brevity of the guidelines to reach the end made it clear that this was far from an easy Mystery. The great advice were three lines—stay hidden, don’t run, and don’t make noise. They were common sense. Anyone who had seen the movies or played a single game could’ve come up with the same advice.


    Luca felt his respect for whoever had written that information plummeting below zero. You could’ve at least tried, he thought, closing his eyes briefly.


    Tim cleared his throat. “Sorry—but—you’re going to give us some equipment, right?”


    When Luca opened his eyes, Tim was gesturing toward the tablet, his face pale.


    “There are carnivorous dinosaurs. And they’ll be roaming free alongside us? For hours?” His tone was skeptical, almost disbelieving. “How are we supposed to survive this?” He frowned, his voice rising slightly. “Wait, how do we even get out of this?”


    Michael smirked. “Well, to answer that, you’ll be inside for twelve hours. If you’re still alive at the end, the security mechanism will extract you. You’ll be entering during the ‘evening turn,’ so you can count the hours yourself.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over them. “And equipment? At Level 0? You don’t even have the inventory unlocked. Quit dreaming.” His tone was bored, almost dismissive.


    Liona clutched her tablet tightly, her knuckles white against the screen. “Then—we’ll have to survive on our own, without even a weapon?”


    Michael raised an eyebrow. “Why did you think the salary is so good? Kindness?” He shook his head. “At your level, you won’t be able to handle an item.”


    Luca glanced around at the pale, nervous, and even slightly angry faces. He chose to speak up, his voice calm but firm. “If you’re all amenable, we can share some strategies about how to survive with the Roles. We’ve still got some time.” He glanced at Michael with a questioning look.


    “Yeah, feel free to use your neurons,” Michael said, waving his hand dismissively. “You’ve got 20 minutes.”


    “I think it’s a good idea,” Liona said, her voice steady but tinged with relief.


    Tim sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m a simple guy who just wanted a gun, but alright, I’m in.”


    Since it had been his idea, Luca took the lead. “I’ll go first, then. I think if someone gets the Tour Guide Role…”