Seirei Exorcist

The clock ticked ominously, ten minutes remaining in the void-like Purple Room. Mark opened the first card in the charades game, his eyes scanning the word as Zeyrix, standing with a sadistic grin, taunted him.

"How are you going to escape this one, Mark?" Zeyrix teased, his voice dripping with mockery.

Mark smirked, leaning casually against the table. "Let's just say I have a cheat code for this game."

Zeyrix raised a curious eyebrow. "A cheat code?"

"Yeah," Mark said, nodding toward Vanessa. "She can read minds."

Vanessa's expression hardened as Mark turned the card toward her. Concentrating, she read his thoughts and said confidently, "It's a ladder."

A small chime echoed in the room. Correct.

Cheers erupted from their allies—Smith, Jack, Miwafe, and Rin—despite their weak, drained states. Across the globe, millions of viewers were glued to their screens, watching Mark and Vanessa fight for survival against the maniacal Zeyrix.

Mark grabbed the next card. Once again, Vanessa read his mind. "Swimming pool," she said.

Correct again.

With each correct guess, the group's morale improved, even as Zeyrix's amusement visibly dwindled. Watching Vanessa endure the Purple Room's energy-draining effects, Zeyrix's smile widened, revealing his psychotic delight.

"Marvelous," he said, clapping slowly. "You've impressed me and entertained the world. But honestly, I'm getting bored."

His eyes gleamed with malice. "How about I make this more exciting?" He snapped his fingers.

The purple light in the void intensified, its glow suffocating. The energy drain multiplied twentyfold.

Vanessa staggered, sweat dripping down her face as her energy ebbed. Even Mark's other allies—Smith, Jack, Miwafe, and Rin—collapsed under the weight of the intensified force. Despite this, Vanessa managed to guess the fifth card correctly.

Zeyrix laughed maniacally. "And now," he said, gesturing dramatically, "let's see how you handle the final card."

Mark turned to Vanessa. "One more," he said softly. "We can do this."

Vanessa shook her head weakly, collapsing to her knees. "I can't... I don't have anything left," she whispered.

Mark glanced at the last card, his eyes lighting up with sudden determination. "Fine," he said. "I'll handle this."

Rising to his feet, Mark began to act out the charade. He mimicked the exaggerated motions of a confident, flirtatious woman, flipping his imaginary hair and strutting across the floor.

Confusion rippled through the audience. Parents shielded their children's eyes while commentators debated his bizarre behavior.

Vanessa's cheeks flushed, realization dawning on her. She whispered, "I... I can't say."

A chime sounded. Correct.

Mark revealed the card: I can't say. Cheers erupted in the room and across the world.

But Zeyrix was far from pleased. His grin twisted into a scowl before quickly returning to an eerie calm. "Impressive," he muttered, his voice low and menacing. "But the fun is far from over. Let's move on to the third phase."

As the group staggered forward, struggling to walk, Mark approached Smith, his tone grim.

"We're not getting out of here," Mark whispered.

Smith frowned. "What do you mean?"

Mark glanced at Zeyrix, who was still smiling smugly. "This isn't about winning or losing. He never told us how many games we'd have to play. He's just toying with us, waiting for your standz to wear out so he can kill you."

Smith's eyes widened. "If that's true, why didn't he just increase the Purple Room's effect earlier?"

"Because he enjoys the game," Mark replied. "He wanted us to feel hope before crushing it. But I think I've figured something out. That clock up there—it's not counting down to a bomb. It's a timer for how long the Purple Room can exist. Once it hits zero, the room will fade."

Smith looked skeptical. "Are you sure?"

Mark shook his head. "No. But it's our best shot because no one can hold there standz to long as he said but he still manage to keep in the purple room. If we can disrupt the clock, it might shut the room down and get us out of here."

Smith nodded slowly, understanding the gamble. "So, what's the plan?"

"You'll use your standz last bit of energy to short-circuit the clock. I'll distract Zeyrix in the meantime."

Smith hesitated. "If this doesn't work..."

"It's the only way," Mark said firmly. "And besides, the Purple Room doesn't affect me so is up to him to help the rest."

Zeyrix snapped his fingers again, conjuring a new challenge. "This next round will test your endurance," he declared.

A long path lined with spinning blades appeared, glowing red-hot. "One of you must walk back and forth across this 15-meter path. Simple, right?"

Mark stepped forward immediately. "I'll do it."

Smith grabbed his arm. "Are you crazy? You'll die!"

"If anyone else goes, they'll definitely die," Mark replied. He turned to Zeyrix. "Let's do this."

Zeyrix's grin widened. "Perfect. Let's see how far you can go."

Mark stepped onto the path, the heat searing his skin as the blades nicked and cut him. Blood dripped onto the floor, and the audience watched in horror. Children clutched their parents, and commentators went silent.

Despite the agony, Mark kept moving forward. Each step felt heavier, each blade sharper. He fell to his knees halfway through but forced himself to stand, gritting his teeth.

Smith, watching helplessly, summoned the last of his energy. His standz ability, Electric Whip, lashed out, connecting to the clock. Sparks flew as the electricity surged.

Zeyrix's eyes widened in shock. "What are you doing?!" he shouted.

The clock flickered. The Purple Room shuddered, its oppressive light dimming.

Mark, barely standing, took another step forward just as the room dissolved around them. Suddenly, they were back in the real world.

As their standz returned, the group regained their strength. The audience erupted in cheers, celebrating their survival.

Zeyrix, realizing he'd lost, tried to flee. But Jack was faster, throwing razor-sharp cards that pinned Zeyrix to the wall.

The group surrounded him, their faces grim.

"This isn't over," Zeyrix hissed, his psychopathic grin faltering.

Mark stepped forward, bloodied but defiant. "Oh, it's over. game over." Mark smiles widely

For the first time, Zeyrix looked afraid as the world watched his defeat, so the thought.