"Mystery Infinity"

  "Volume One - "The Great Trial"“

  -

  Conrad opened his eyes to the loud, high-pitched voice echoing in his ears and began looking around in confusion.

  He didn’t need to think too much—his only curiosity was about where exactly he was.

  “The last thing I remember…”

  As he wanted to think about what happened to him. The surroundings interested him as he started to think about where he was first.

  “White and plain, it must be a cube-shaped place,” he thought.

  He stood up slowly. He was wearing a simple grey outfit and a pair of plain black sneakers.

  The worst-case scenarios immediately began flashing through his mind.

  “I think I’ve been kidnapped…” he thought.

  He lifted his grey t-shirt and started examining his body. The first thing that came to his mind was organ traffickers.

  When he saw there were no surgery scars, he let out a deep breath.

  "What is this place…?"

  He turned in place, scanning every corner of the cube-shaped room.

  There were no doors, no windows, and no seams, just blank whiteness.

  "Am I in a dream? Or a simulation?"

  His thoughts ran wild, a storm of anxiety growing within his chest. Every second that passed without an answer felt like a scream trapped in silence.

  Then, without warning, the air shifted.

  A soft hiss filled the room. It was like the sound of fog machines, like dry ice melting into a cold breath. And from the center of the cube, something began to form—no, manifest.

  Conrad stumbled back.

  A figure took shape out of the air itself, carved from a dense, white fog that didn’t disperse.

  It had a humanoid body, tall and slender, but it lacked one key feature: a head.

  Where its head should have been, there was only a continued swirl of that unnatural mist, like a storm trapped in place.

  Conrad's heart climbed into his throat.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  He backed away until his spine pressed into the far wall, his breath short and rapid.

  The figure didn’t move in a threatening way.

  In fact, it stood perfectly still, arms at its sides, as if it had been waiting for him all along. And then—it spoke.

  But the voice didn’t come from a mouth.

  It rang out from the air around Conrad, omnipresent and untraceable, a low and echoing tone that vibrated deep in his chest. Genderless, emotionless, yet impossibly vast.

  "You have been pulled into The Mystery."

  The words hit him like cold water.

  "The… what?” Conrad muttered under his breath.

  The fog man didn’t answer immediately.

  It took a single step forward.

  Conrad gulped hard and stood frozen in place.

  His hands curled into fists out of pure instinct.

  Pulled into the mystery? What does that even mean?

  "Do not panic," the voice said, though it was an empty instruction.

  "You are not alone. Many have been chosen, like you. Each is tested. Each is watched."

  “Watched?” Conrad’s voice cracked. “By who? Why?”

  The figure extended one hand. Its fingers were long, unnaturally so, almost skeletal. As they opened, the fog that formed its body pulsed slightly, glowing with a faint inner light.

  "I am the "Admin"."

  The name, if it could be called that, echoed inside Conrad’s mind like a word too old and too big to understand.

  "The humans pulled into The Mystery are selected at random.”

  “Why?” Conrad asked again, quieter this time.

  The admin didn’t hesitate.

  "To be tested."

  The word echoed sharply.

  "The Mystery is a place of layers. Realities folded within one another. Each layer is a trial. Each trial tests a different part of the human psyche—will, fear, loyalty, pain, and reason. The weak will fail. The strong will continue. There is no going back."

  Conrad’s knees nearly buckled.

  “Death? What do you mean, death?”

  "Failure is final." The admin’s tone didn’t change. It was like it didn’t understand the weight of what it said—or didn’t care.

  Conrad shook his head, trying to make sense of anything.

  “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t agree to—”

  "Consent is not part of the process."

  His words were crushed before they even finished forming.

  The admin turned slightly.

  Behind it, a circle of white light began to open in the center of the room. It was like a doorway without a frame, made of pure light, flickering softly like candlelight in the wind.

  "The first trial will begin shortly. You will be sent. You will survive, or you will not."

  Conrad’s breathing sped up.

  “Wait—wait, what kind of trial? What am I supposed to do? Do I get weapons? A guide? Information?”

  "The mystery reveals only what must be known. Not more. Not less."

  “Please…At least tell me how many trials there are.”

  There was a long pause.

  Then, for the first time, the Admin’s voice shifted—not in tone, but in weight. The answer it gave came like a chime of fate, final and terrible.

  "As many as it takes."

  The light behind the admin flared.

  Conrad’s vision swam.

  The whiteness of the cube room began to dissolve around him like mist under sunlight, melting into a world he hadn’t yet seen.

  But before it did, he looked one last time at the headless figure standing at the center of it all.

  And in that moment, he felt something deeper than fear.

  Not just dread, not just terror—but the terrible understanding that this wasn’t a nightmare. This was real. And it was only the beginning.

  Then the light swallowed him.