Ulrich went inside the room, made of the same plastic-like material as the hallways, the same pristine white. The door next to him was locked, and he heard what sounded like a shower, coming from another room. His intuition guessed it was a bathroom of sorts. The fact Timothy came out of the door wearing nothing but a towel around his waist seemed to confirm his theory.

"Man, that was probably the best shower I ever had!" He yelled out. "Dude, you gotta try that!"

"It's good, is it?" Ulrich sighed.

"Hell yeah it's good! Didn't turn on the washing machine either, so just dump your clothes in there when you get in."

Ulrich gave a quick thumbs up, and went into the bathroom. Still the same blinding smooth white walls. At this point, he felt like he should be advertising shampoo or something. But he dropped his clothes and put them alongside Timothy's in the washing machine. Still the same white material, but with a dark blue stripe horizontally along the side with some grey bottons. Turning it on, he got into the shower, and Timothy certainly wasn't lying. This shower was amazing. Water pressure, temperature, the entire thing was automatically perfect. He felt the weight of the last few days was washed off him, and he felt like he could actually sleep. Relaxed, he grabbed a towel, heading into his main bedroom, where Timothy had something in his mouth, and smoke was filling the room.

"What you got there?" Ulrich asked.

"Some Gong-Gong. You down?"

"Uh, no thanks."

"Whatever you say, man." Timothy replied, moving the cigarette to the other side of his mouth, letting the table at the end of the room have a smell of whatever he was smoking.

"What are you in for, anyway?"

"Uh, I don't think I'm aloud to answer that, dude."

"Really?"

"You're that alien, right? So you don't know how things work here."

"Pretty much." Ulrich answered, sitting on the bed Timothy wasn't on.

"Alright, I'm gonna lay down how things work around here." Timothy started, crossing his legs in what seemed to look like an attempt to be some kind of mob boss, but he started chuckling halfway through.

"Alright, that new watch ya got? That'll tell you the names of everyone you're dealing with. And if the game leaked their crimes, it'll show up there."

"Kay, that makes sense."

"Also, at the end of every challenge, we get ranked by the people watching. They know what we did, so that might key us in on how badly the others messed up. And if you rank highly, I think you get gifts or something."

"So when does the first ranking come in?"

"Beats me, I didn't watch this show." He chuckled, his eyes slipping slightly. "Think I'm forgetting something, but I'll tell you if it comes to me."

Ulrich tried tapping the 'popularity' triangle on his watch, but all he got was an error message of that same cartoon bunny in distress, alongside a nice black box with purple hexagons trailing off it.

'We're still collecting results! Please come tomorrow!!'

"Says we gotta wait till tomorrow."

"Cool, call me then." Timothy replied, putting the white sheets over him and falling asleep.

Ulrich inspected the watch. 10:00PM. Assuming that time worked the same way here than back in his reality, now was probably a good time to go to sleep. So he did.

Next door, Odebode was inspecting his half of the room. It looked pretty nice to him, better than his old apartment, at least. He looked over at his roommate, checking his watch.

"You're Micah, right?"

"Yeah?" Micah replied, turning around. He was probably the most ordinary looking person in this entire game. Probably. Plain green polo shirt, blue glasses, plain navy jeans that didn't have any signs of wear, nor looking brand new, and shaggy light brown hair parted in the middle. He had his hands in his pockets as he approached him, slightly shorter than him.

"How you doing, mister…" He took out his watch, pressing the screen a couple times. "Oda-Bode?"

"O-Day-Bode" Odebode sighed. He looked as Micah quickly retreated his hand into his pocket. He then took his other hand out of his pocket to adjust his glasses.

"Got it, thanks."

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Something wrong with your hand?" Odebode asked.

"Oh, that?" Micah replied, taking his hands out of hiding. Odebode got a good look at his sharpened fingernails.

"I was planning on getting them filed down, but you know, arrests don't give you a lotta time to get things done." He chuckled weakly.

"But why did you do it in the first place? Would it play into your power?"

"Oh no, nothing like that!" Micah yelled with a strained smile on his face, backing away slightly. "It's just a fashion trend on level three!"

"I am from level three, and I don't remember hearing about these trends."

"You from Deeten?" He asked.

"No, I'm from Anaman." Odebode replied.

"Right, right. Well, the nail thing is pretty underground there too. I think the goth chick here might know something about it, she ran a café there."

"You know her?"

"Well, that's a strong term. I got coffee at her place occasionally, looked at her a bunch. Don't think we could form any alliances at the moment, though."

"That's unfortunate." Odebode replied. "If you don't mind, I think I'll go to bed."

"Sounds cool. I'll go to bed too."

Odebode removed his shirt and went to bed, still thinking about that fashion trend Micah was following. A fool's attempt at a lie, but his type are good at that. The real reason he had sharpened fingernails was just like the man he first fought.

Easier to draw blood.

Next door, the man with the checked shirt was admiring the quality of the shower. Not even on level five was there a shower of such quality. He stuck a towel on him and stepped out, greeting his new roommate.

"Nice to room with ya, man."

"Yes, let's hope it's pleasant."

Lloyd looked at this guy. It seemed obvious that this man with the unkempt facial hair and torn clothes didn't seem to desire a friendship.

He flicked through some of the features on his watch until he found his profile.

"Ah, mister Kapil. Sorry for not getting your name sooner."

Kapil nodded, spending a solid thirty seconds trying to get his profile up.

"You don't need to look me up, you already know me."

"I don't." Kapil replied.

"Lloyd. Lloyd Clifton. The actor. Famous, hangs out with people on level five."

"I don't know you." Kapil repeated.

Lloyd felt his face lose pigment. He was appalled at this mans clearly awful taste, but this was a game of death, he couldn't just show that.

"Well, my name's Lloyd. I do acting jobs, and I would consider myself a good judge of character."

"If you're so good then how are you here?" Kapil asked.

"Okay…" He muttered to himself. "We all do a few things the law considers wrong, clearly. But I can see past what the law considers wrong, and what the spirit considers good. So…here's to a fun game!"

"Sure." Kapil shrugged.

"Does this guy's tone ever…" Lloyd mumbled. "Look, wanna team up for this?"

"I already have allies here."

"All righty then, I'm going to bed." Lloyd sighed. "See you in the morning."

"Sure."

As Lloyd got into the bed and removed his towel, the thought of that nobody was in his mind. Whether or not these 'allies' were real, he knew one thing.

Kapil was dying first.

"Ah, you must be Eric Greene, right?"

The mohawk wearing man removed his leather jacket, put it on the end of his bed, and turned around at the tall man looking at his watch, greeting him with a smile.

"Yeah?" Eric replied. "Why?"

"Well, I happen to be your roommate for the time being, so I guessed introductions were in order. My name is Huang Wen Bai."

"Good to know." Eric nodded, not paying much attention to his outstretched hand.

"Oh, do you not feel like shaking hands?" Huang asked.

Eric scanned him a little. Nothing too bad. Tall smiling dude looking like splaying his hand at him would make his organs explode. Neat black hair, a nice tan suit, and small glasses on his face. Seemed reasonable enough. Until he got to his hand.

"What's with the tat?" He asked.

It was a simple tattoo, one of a bird. But the age of the ink seemed to be different across the body, wings, and the two rings around it.

"Oh, this? I'm afraid I can't explain that for the time being."

"Got it." Eric replied with a quick thumbs up, while stepping away.

"Hm, I guessed we'd be more in harmony." Huang said, putting his hand back and his smile getting slightly smaller, before correcting itself in the span of a second.

"Any reason for that, Bird?" Eric sighed with frustration.

"Well, your attachment to that one girl, for one."

"Excuse me, birdman? You trying something?" Eric put his fists up, and Huang moved back slightly, still keeping that grin on his face.

"No, no. I'm not interested in any of that. It's merely that I also have a young girl to protect."

"Oh, really?" Eric asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

"So, I think it's in our own best interests to keep the four of us alive. Would you agree?"

"I'll consider it." Eric replied.

"Ah, Joyous!" Huang threw his hands in the air. "This calls for a celebration bath!"

"A what?" Eric asked.

"Well, in my line of work, associates discussing plans while bathing is quite normal. Quite refreshing too, if it interests you."

"It doesn't." Eric replied, scowling.

"Well, I'll leave the door unlocked if you change your mind."

He left for the bath, and Eric fell onto his bed.

Just what the hell did he get himself into?

Andrei checked out the bed he was going to sleep on for the foreseeable future. Soft on the top, and a bottom which was sturdy, made with black metal. Overall, didn't seem like a bad place to sleep.

"Can I ask what you're doing?" The man on the other side of the room asked.

"Just checking the sleeping arrangements. They look good."

"Ah, an inspection. You a recruit?"

"For what, the police?"

"What else would you be recruited to?"

Andrei looked at this man. Unkempt hair of deep brown, hidden by a green baseball cap, alongside a green polo shirt. The clean baggy jeans with plenty of pockets looked somewhat police-y, assuming police carried a lot.

"You a police officer?"

"Was. I don't think people entered to this game are allowed to enlist."

"I see."

"Anyway, I think these rooms should serve the two of us well."

"I think so. I was thinking of getting a punching bag if we get the chance, put it over there." Andrei nodded, pointing at an empty corner.

"Ah, another one for training."

Cyrus looked at the man in front of him. A white tank top showing his muscular forearms. Certainly taller than him, with short hair to not obscure his view. Actually seeing the guy, that last statement was unneeded.

"Yup, gotta keep your strength up round these parts."

"I'm with you there. If I may ask, what power do you have?"

Cyrus noticed this man get a smidge taller and looked down to see the outlines of metal boots over his feet.

"Ah, an astral class. This should be good."

Cyrus allowed his hands to make a few cracking noises, as a few white blades extended out below both his hands.

"What the hell was that?" Andrei asked.

"Nothing to be concerned about. Now, shall we commence?"