The game was no longer just for two—it was for the three of us: Ayaz, Kale, and me.
Ayaz: 3
Kale: 5
İpek: 5
As I recreated that diagram in my head, I felt like a ballerina preparing for a new performance. Perhaps this show was tailored to the personal tastes of the Butterfly Claw. Or worse—designed to satisfy their horrific, insatiable pleasures. A voice inside me screamed in protest.
"No," I said. My voice echoed across the stage.
Butterfly Claw had turned their back once more.
When you made eye contact with them, time would rewind—and trust me, no one enjoyed that. I was fully aware that it was better they didn't look at me.
"This isn't rational," I said. "The price of losing a game cannot be death."
My fear was for Ayaz. Another round was about to begin, and this time, death would hang over our heads like a golf ball teetering on the edge of fate.
"Do you find it horrifying, little one?" they asked mockingly.
"I do," I replied coldly.
I could feel the icy sharpness in the glance Ayaz threw my way.
Kale, on the other hand, looked wounded, as if my outburst had bruised his pride.
"What's so terrifying about paying a fair price at the end of a game?" he asked in a sly tone.
The aura of Butterfly Claw thickened and prowled across the stage.
"No matter what you say," they declared, "my word is final. Because you yourselves don't even believe your own words."
When I shouted "No," a bottle fell with a thud. The sound had come from the audience's side. I thought I saw a shadow bend down to pick it up.
The silence was shattered.
Butterfly Claw's wings twitched as if they were about to rise.
They stepped toward me, slowly and deliberately. "Are you opposing me?"
Clenching my fists like I was trying to summon strength from within, I said, "Yes. I challenge you! Here, my word is law."
The words echoed inside my skull.
Here, my word is law.
As Butterfly Claw turned their back again, I suddenly found myself surrounded by screams. Time began to rewind again, like a video tape rolling backward. Voices filled my head.
"You wrote this game."
"This cruelty is your creation."
"Even the rules were planned by you."
"You included the hardest choices."
Everything came rushing back to me.
***
Eight years ago
"The Vice President of the Electoral Council is inside," I heard someone say at the door. Even while seated, my gaze remained stern. I shifted in my chair and placed the gray documents onto the side table. A cup of coffee rested in my hand.
My score was 'All.'
No matter how much I played, I always won. I deserved 'All,' not 'Nothing.'
The door opened, and in came a rough, unrefined man. In his fifties, mustached, and wearing a polka-dot shirt. The moment I saw him, I was startled. Time froze for a few seconds. The lights came on. Wires trailed behind him as he walked, like a charging cable plugged into a socket.
He was my father.
What was he doing here?
His voice dropped half a tone. "Daughter," he murmured. "You're not going to keep your father locked up in here, are you?"
There he was. The man who beat me 24/7, who tortured my mother, and made us beg others for help. All I wanted was to make him suffer. I would later find out from the System why he was here. But for now, it was too soon. I only wanted punishment.
I remembered the day he beat me with a golf club I had hidden in my room. My upper lip curled.
The cursed cruelty in his eyes was now cloaked in fake mercy.
I didn't believe him. I called the guards.
The door creaked open, and they entered, lining up before me.
Among those kneeling to obey my orders was one who looked directly at me. Butterfly Claw. One of the high-ranking ones who obeyed me without question.
"Your command," they said simply, falling to their knees.
I looked at my trembling father—shivering like he was under a curse.
"The Golf Roulette Game will be launched!" I commanded. "He will play it using his own hologram and will never be able to atone for his crimes. Because those who fight themselves can never win. And he came here to fight. His heart is filled with hatred as dark as a demon's."
Heads nodded. My tyranny grew.
The white-suited staff stared at me, waiting to fulfill my orders.
I handed over the documents on the table beside me.
The rules of the game had already been written.
***
Time began to fast-forward again. Light reflections passed by like ghosts. Butterfly Claw turned their back once more.
"You remember everything now," they said. So that was their role—to make me remember. That's why they provoked me.
As I stood in shock, they continued, "After all, you're the ruler of the Upper Floor. In that case—with your permission, this matter is settled!"
The crowd fell silent.
I was sure none of them understood a thing.
But I… I was slowly starting to remember myself.
Today, I would either pay the price of the rules I had written—or make someone else pay it.