Apocalypse Trade Monopoly
Chapter 155: : Game Theory

Chapter 155: : Game Theory

The lights didn’t flicker—they just changed.

One moment, sterile white.

The next, saturated red, as if the walls had inhaled blood and decided to keep it.

A chime rang out. Not musical. Not mechanical. Just a pure, tonal note, like a string pulled taut across metal.

Then the voice returned.

[Round One: PRIORITIZATION]

[Instructions: When the door opens, only ten may pass.]

[There are thirty-eight players.]

[You decide who walks through.]

The floor rippled underfoot. A circular platform split open at the far side of the chamber, forming a doorway of black static. Behind it: unknowable dark. No map. No hint. Just a void that felt like forward.

Silence.

Then panic.

"What the hell does that mean?" someone shouted.

"It’s a trick," another snapped. "There’s probably thirty-eight doors and we’re just being tested—"

"No," Lucas said. Calm. Cold. "There’s one."

Eyes turned.

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.

"Look around. No decoys. No second hatches. No obvious pressure points. Just one door. Ten slots."

Keisha’s jaw clenched. "So what? We vote?"

Tala scoffed. "You think this is gonna be fair?"

"It’s not about fair," Ava said. "It’s about data. They’re watching how we choose. What we choose."

The group fell into disarray. Some started shouting names. Others formed small cliques, whispering, pointing.

Lucas stayed silent.

Ava stepped closer. Quiet. "You’re letting them spiral?"

He gave her a sidelong glance.

"I want to see who thinks they’re in control."

Ava paused. "You have a plan."

"I always have a plan."

"Wanna share it?"

"Not yet."

Ava didn’t ask again.

Lucas finally stepped forward, hands loose at his sides.

"If you want out, make your case. If no one listens, make your move. But understand—this room doesn’t reward mercy. It rewards clarity."

Ravi stepped forward. "So what, you want a debate?"

Lucas tilted his head. "No. I want to see who’s willing to speak first."

That got a laugh out of someone in the back. Nervous. Ugly.

Then the first real decision came.

A teenager stepped forward. Barely sixteen. Dirty sweatshirt, broken shoes.

"I’m not gonna fight for it," he said. "If someone wants it more, they can have it."

Silence.

Then Tala stepped forward. "I’m going. I don’t care who agrees. I didn’t crawl this far to die polite."

Someone else pushed forward behind her. Keisha. Then two others.

The number started climbing.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Tension rose.

Ava scanned Lucas’s face. He was watching everyone—everyone—but not volunteering.

She leaned in. "What are you waiting for?"

"Patterns," he murmured. "They’re dividing by reaction types—assertion, compliance, hesitation. I want them to put their pieces on the board."

Ava’s eyes narrowed. "And then?"

Lucas’s gaze didn’t move from the forming crowd. "Then I rig the game."

The group reached ten.

The system chimed again.

[TEN CONFIRMED.]

[REMAINING PLAYERS: OBSERVE.]

The door slid open.

But inside—no light.

Just the sound of steps.

Then screams.

Short. Wet. Mechanical.

A second passed.

The door closed.

No blood.

No bodies.

Just a message.

[ERROR: EIGHT FAILED. TWO RETURNED.]

The two that came back looked... wrong.

Pale. Eyes glazed. Hands trembling.

They didn’t speak.

They just sat.

Lucas stepped forward now. Finally.

Everyone stared.

"I’m next," Lucas said, voice steady as steel. "But I need eight."

He nodded toward Ava without even looking.

"Me and Beauty here are going in next."

Ava didn’t flinch at the name. She didn’t need to. The temperature in her voice did all the work.

"Not the time for pet names, Zhang."

Lucas’s lips curved slightly—half amusement, half warning.

"Think of it as camouflage."

Keisha took a step forward, arms folded. "You’re seriously volunteering after that?" She pointed toward the door. "We just lost eight people."

"Correction," Lucas replied coolly, "we lost eight idiots who thought volunteering was the same as strategy."

Murmurs spread through the crowd like cracks in glass.

"We’re not going in blind," he continued. "I don’t believe the door kills at random. This is a logic trap. They’re watching behavior. Trying to provoke chaos. The ones who panicked? They were eliminated. The two that came back weren’t leaders. They followed. That’s why they were spared."

"Or maybe they just got lucky," Ravi muttered.

Lucas turned, golden eyes sharp. "Luck is what people cling to when they don’t understand the rules."

"Then explain the rules," Tala shot back.

Lucas smirked, glancing at Ava. "That’s what we’re going to do."

He turned back to the group, raising his voice.

"We need six more. Not warm bodies—minds. If you want to live, volunteer. If you want to wait and hope the game gets easier—stand there and die last."

Silence held.

Then the teen who had spoken earlier—nervous but clear—raised a shaky hand. "I’ll go. You said follow a pattern, right? I can remember stuff. Numbers, paths. I... I don’t freeze up."

Lucas gave a short nod. "Name?"

"Ellis."

"Good, Ellis. Five more."

Keisha exhaled and stepped forward. "I’ve already seen enough people die for bad plans. Might as well bet on the one that doesn’t smell like desperation."

Two more stepped forward—one man, broad-shouldered, silent, and a woman in scavenger’s gear with wary eyes.

"Carter," the man said.

"Juno," the woman added.

Lucas looked to the rest.

"Last two."

It was Ravi who finally stepped forward, almost reluctant.

"I hate this."

"You should," Ava said flatly.

"That leaves one," Lucas said.

The room was still.

Then Tala growled. "Screw it. I’m not being audience filler."

Lucas nodded once. "Perfect."

He turned toward the black static of the doorway, its edges humming like the boundary of a live wire.

No ceremony. No hesitation.

Just steps.

He moved first, and the others followed like iron filings behind a magnetic calm.

Ava walked second, her eyes sharp, counting the others by reflex.

Ellis. Keisha. Carter. Juno. Ravi. Tala.

Seven plus her.

Eight behind Lucas.

No turning back now.

The threshold swallowed them like water closing over stone.

The light died instantly.

Not dimmed. Not flickered.

Died.

Then the floor shifted underfoot.

Ava caught herself, but only barely—gravity stuttered, snapped sideways, then rebalanced.

They weren’t in a hallway.

They weren’t even in a room.

They were inside something alive.

The walls around them pulsed with faint veins of red circuitry, moving like breath. The air tasted wrong—metallic, sterile, electric. A faint, ever-present buzz pressed into the skull like pressure from inside.

Above them, a voice whispered.

[Round One – Prioritization. Sub-Phase Two.]

[The door opens in sixty seconds. Only five of you will walk through it.]

[Your choice.]

Ava’s hand clenched before she could stop it.

"No countdown," Carter muttered. "No explanation."

"No answers," Ravi added. "Of course."

Keisha turned sharply. "What happened to ten?!"

Lucas didn’t blink.

"They changed the rules."

Juno stared at him. "And you’re still calm?"

"No," Lucas said. "I’m watching."

He took a single step forward into the circular chamber, turning slowly to look at each of them—measuring, mapping.

"We’re down here for a reason," he said. "Not random. We were selected. Which means someone thinks how we act under pressure is worth observing."

"Yeah?" Tala snapped. "What are they hoping to see—us tear each other apart?"

"Maybe," Lucas said. "Or maybe they just want to see who lies best."

The room went still.

The voice whispered again:

[Fifty seconds.]

Ava’s voice cut clean across the tension. "We make no move until the last ten seconds."

Everyone looked at her.

Lucas didn’t speak.

Just smiled—barely.

Ava continued. "We don’t give them chaos. We give them silence."

Tala glared. "What, we meditate?"

"No," Lucas said. "We signal control."

Keisha’s arms were folded, but her stance shifted.

"They’re gonna make someone panic."

"Good," Lucas replied. "Let them try."

Ravi was sweating now, visibly shaking.

"Forty seconds."

The walls pulsed faster now. Red veins swelling.

Like a heartbeat climbing.

Lucas took a step toward the center of the space.

"The trick isn’t figuring out how to win," he said. "It’s figuring out what game they think we’re playing."

Ava’s eyes never left his face.

"And?"

Lucas smiled. Just a little.

"They think we’ll sacrifice each other."

He turned to the others.

"I say we beat them by choosing no one."

Silence answered him first.

Then disbelief.

Ravi blinked like he’d misheard. "What—just... wait here? Let the timer run out?"

"Exactly," Lucas said. His tone wasn’t dramatic. It was surgical. "If they’re expecting us to turn on each other, we give them nothing."

"Easy for you to say," Tala muttered. "You’re not the one they’ll drag if this goes sideways."

Keisha took a step toward Lucas, not aggressive, but cautious. "And if no one walks through the door? What then?"

"Then we get to see what kind of game master we’re dealing with," he replied. "Because bluffing only works until someone calls it."

The room shuddered faintly—barely perceptible. Like the space itself was listening.

[Thirty seconds.]

Carter exhaled. "So we just... stand here. Like statues."

"No," Ava said quietly. "We stand like people who know we’re being watched."

Lucas met her eyes, and for the first time, something shifted behind his. Not vulnerability. Not pride.

Alignment.

The kind you didn’t speak aloud.

Juno crossed her arms. "This is either genius or suicidal."

Lucas looked over his shoulder. "Usually both."

No one laughed.

[Twenty seconds.]

A faint humming started up beneath their feet. Not a threat—just a suggestion.

Of heat.

Of pressure.

Like a valve about to burst.

"Hold," Ava said.

Ravi swallowed, wide-eyed. "If this door opens and they just... grab randomly—"

"They won’t," Lucas cut in.

Tala’s eyes narrowed. "You sound damn sure."

"I am."

[Ten seconds.]

Ava’s voice was low, even.

"Don’t flinch."

Keisha didn’t move. Juno stood tall. Carter’s hand curled but stayed down.

Ravi took a slow breath, and to his credit—held his ground.

Tala clicked her tongue, annoyed—but still.

Still.

[Five.]

[Four.]

[Three.]

[Two.]

[One.]

The doorway hissed.

Opened.

And—

Nothing.

No force. No pull.

Just a dark space waiting.

Then the voice returned.

But this time, it had a note of something new.

Curiosity.

[Zero chosen.]

[Unexpected.]

[Interesting.]

The air grew cold.

The lights dimmed.

Then the voice changed.

[Very well.]

[All ten may proceed.]

The doorway glowed white.

Lucas didn’t move yet.

He turned to the others.

"Lesson one," he said. "Sometimes the only winning move is not to play."

Then he stepped through the light.

And this time, the screams didn’t follow.

Only silence.

And the next test waiting beyond it.