?

  First round.

  Mira stepped up to the dartboard with the kind of expression usually reserved for doomed treasure hunters. Her grip on the dart was confident in theory, but in practice, it looked more like someone holding a kitchen knife for the first time. She squared her shoulders, exhaled hard, and narrowed her eyes at the numbers like they had personally insulted her.

  She threw.

  The dart hit just left of center, number 11. Blue zone. Fun category.

  Elias lifted the card, “Number eleven. Fun category. You have to freeze in the weirdest pose you can hold… for five seconds.”

  Mira blinked. Then slowly turned toward him with a face full of silent betrayal, her mouth slightly open, eyebrows high, the corners of her lips twitching in disbelief. She didn’t say anything at first, just gave Elias that wide-eyed, what the hell expression with a questioning smile, as if hoping someone would step in and say he was joking.

  The room burst into laughter.

  Naomi covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking. “You haven’t even started, and it’s already weird.”

  After a second of internal debate, she flung herself into a wild pose, one arm bent above her head, the other stiffly reaching to the side, her left foot raised and angled awkwardly like she was caught mid-stumble. Her eyes went wide, lips pursed, chin tilted like a confused flamingo caught in a wind tunnel.

  “That’s not a pose,” Camille laughed. “That’s a crisis.”

  “Four,” someone called between laughs.

  Mira muttered through clenched teeth. “Count faster.”

  “Five.”

  She dropped the pose like gravity had finally remembered her, flopping into her seat with dramatic precision.

  Adrian, seated next to her, looked over and didn’t bother hiding his smile.. He didn’t say anything, just watched her with eyes of someone who very much wanted to tease her but had already decided the silence said more.

  Valeria stood as Mira sank deeper into her chair, her water bottle still in hand. Valeria approached the dartboard, picked up a dart, and took her position. She eyed the numbers with the focus of someone sorting data, then lifted her arm and released.

  The dart landed on number four. Blue zone. Fun category.

  Elias pulled the card. “Assign players animals or plants.”

  Valeria didn’t take long. “Camille, wolf. Naomi, fern. Elias, owl. Elara, wisteria. Adrian, silver fox.” She paused. “Mira, bee. Chaos.”

  Then she sat down, her expression unchanged, as if she’d just completed a line in a checklist.

  Laughter broke out around the circle.

  Naomi rose with the same grace she always carried, smoothing the hem of her sleeve as she approached the board. She didn’t hesitate or overthink. She threw.

  The dart struck number three. Yellow zone. Twist category.

  “Reveal something you once believed strongly, but changed your mind about.”

  Naomi lowered her gaze for a moment. Her fingers folded together in front of her, then unclasped.

  “I used to think being strong meant not crying,” she said softly. “Now I think it means knowing when you can.”

  For a second, the room paused, not in shock, but in the kind of silence that came when something honest landed right where it needed to.

  Camille pressed her hand to her chest. “Naomi, please. I can’t take this much softness this early.”

  Mira let out a dramatic squeak and stretched her arms toward her from across the circle. “Group hug. Immediately.”

  Even Valeria, usually composed, smiled without restraint. “That was unfairly wholesome.”

  Naomi returned to her seat, cheeks pink, and was promptly engulfed, Mira reaching for her hand, Camille leaning over to pull her into a side hug. Laughter mixed with affection spilled around the table.

  Elias felt a strange warmth creep up the side of his face, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t the kind of fluster that demanded attention, just a shift, like something small had touched a part of him he hadn’t planned to use tonight. He cleared his throat, adjusted the edge of a card, and said, “Ready for the next throw?”

  Adrian stood, calm and unhurried. He didn’t stretch, didn’t pause to aim dramatically. His posture was easy, balanced, like he was walking into something already solved. He held the dart in one hand, lifted it without flair, and threw in one smooth motion.

  The dart landed dead center.

  Bullseye.

  The room stilled.

  Camille let out a breath and leaned back. “It’s the first round and you’re already showing off?”

  Adrian didn’t answer her. His gaze never shifted from the board.

  “I’ll take the three-token bonus,” he said simply, then turned and returned to his seat like nothing had happened.

  Just before sitting down, his eyes caught Mira’s.

  She was already watching him, half-surprised, half-exasperated, her hands still wrapped around her water bottle like she might throw it at someone if this kept up. Their gazes met for only a second, but it was long enough for something unsaid to pass between them.

  She didn’t speak. Neither did he.

  Then the moment was gone, and the next player was already rising from their seat. Camille stood, rolling her shoulders once like she was walking onto a stage she’d known her whole life. The dart was already in her hand.

  She took one glance at the numbers, raised her arm, and threw. Clean, straight, deliberate.

  The dart landed on number fifteen, yellow zone. Twist category.

  Camille gave a small smile.

  Elias read the card. “Reveal a secret… or let the recorder ask one.” He looked up. “Your choice.”

  Camille lifted her chin slightly. “I’ll take the question.”

  “I cheated once. Back in high school. Final semester literature exam. I’d stayed out too late at this rooftop party and didn’t wake up in time to cram. So I scribbled quotes from the book on the inside of my arm. Real amateur stuff.”

  A beat passed.

  Mira gasped. “Camille.”

  Naomi covered her mouth. “You?”

  Naomi, still sitting close, reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Come on. Any student will cheat at least once.”

  Camille turned to her, “Did you?”

  Naomi smiled, soft and sweet. “Not yet.”

  The whole group burst out laughing.

  “I suddenly feel less bad about everything I’ve ever done,” Mira said, wiping her eye.

  Valeria shook her head. “The real scandal is how good she is at quoting books now.”

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  Elara stood next, picked up the dart, and threw in one clean motion. No pause, no adjustment. It struck number ten, green zone. Social category.

  “What was your first impression of each player in this room? One word per person. No repeats.”

  A few groans circled the group, Elara straightened slightly and spoke without pause, her voice clear and even.

  “Mira, spark.”

  “Valeria, structure.”

  “Naomi, light.”

  “Adrian, dangerous.”

  “Camille, steel.”

  “Elias, margin.”

  There was a moment of silence, like everyone was still catching up.

  “Margin?” Mira repeated, half laughing. “That’s so specific it hurts.”

  Elara sat back down without comment. The final dart of the round rested in Elias’s hand.

  Elias stood, took the dart with calm fingers, and stepped into place. His throw was clean, practiced, and landed just outside the center, number six. Red zone. Confession category.

  “I read every student’s profile in the law department before the semester started,” he said. “Everyone in this room is included.”

  As he said it, his eyes shifted briefly toward Adrian, just long enough to make the point. There was no challenge in it, no push, just a truth laid down like a file on a desk.

  Camille laughed. “Of course you did.”

  As Elias finished recording the results of the first round, he looked up, pen still in hand.

  “So, quick recap,” he said. “Everyone answered their question, so you each get one bonus token on top of the two you started with. That means three tokens for each of you.”

  He paused, tapping the page lightly. “Except Adrian, who hit the bullseye. He picked the three-token bonus, so he’s at five.”

  ?

  Second round.

  Mira was already on her feet before anyone called her name, gripping the dart like it had something to prove.

  “I have a good feeling about this,” she said.

  She threw.

  The dart hit number nine, red zone. Confession.

  Elara was the first to react. The corner of her mouth pulled upward, just slightly, and a spark lit in her eyes, a flash of something satisfied. She didn’t say a word, didn’t move again, but the moment settled easily behind her stillness.

  Elias read the card, “What do you fear they’ll remember you for?”

  Mira blinked at him, then looked toward the floor, searching. When she finally spoke, her voice came out lighter than usual, like she was trying to float past it.

  “I guess… I’m scared people will remember me for being chaotic and loud, and not notice I was actually trying.”

  The group stilled, not awkwardly, just long enough for her words to land.

  Naomi reached out and gave her arm a soft squeeze. “You’re trying all the time. That’s what people remember.”

  Camille added, “Honestly, if they remember you as anything less than the full Mira Experience, they’re blind.”

  The mood softened, gently lifted from the weight of the confession, warm, not mocking.

  Valeria stood without a word, walked up to the board, and picked up the dart with her usual sharp focus. She aimed, threw, and hit number fourteen, blue zone. Fun category.

  Elias glanced at the card. “Say the alphabet backward, as fast as you can.”

  Valeria paused. “From Z?”

  “Yes,” Elias said. “That’s generally where backward starts.”

  She took a breath. “Z… Y… X… W… V… U… T… S… Q, no, R, wait, ” She stopped, frowned, tried again. “Z, Y, X, W, V, U… R… no, T, oh my god, ”

  By the third attempt, her voice had climbed nearly a full octave.

  “Z, Y, X, W, V, U, T, S, Q, WHY IS Q HERE, ”

  Mira slid sideways into Naomi, laughing so hard she could barely sit upright. Camille had folded her arms and was grinning like she was watching live theatre. Elias had to set the card down because his shoulders were starting to shake.

  Valeria threw up her hands. “I swear I know the alphabet. Just not… under pressure.”

  “You’re doing great,” Naomi managed between giggles. “You sound like Google Translate in distress.”

  On the fourth try, Valeria powered through, fast, robotic, still mildly suspicious:

  “Z Y X W V U T S R Q P O N M L K J I H G F E D C B A.”

  “Accepted,” Elias said, trying very hard not to smile. “Somehow.”

  Valeria returned to her seat, adjusting her sleeves like nothing had happened, though her ears still held a faint flush. Mira was still grinning, face half-hidden behind her water bottle, and Camille looked far too pleased with herself.

  Naomi stepped up, threw without hesitation, and landed on number eight, blue zone. Fun category.

  Elias read the card. “Say something only one person would understand.”

  Naomi smiled, then glanced at Camille. “Strawberry cough drops. The goose incident.”

  Every head turned to Camille.

  Camille groaned, covering her face with one hand. “Oh my god.”

  The group turned to Camille, curious.

  “There was a goose on the garden last summer. I sat too close to it while eating. It hissed. I ran. Tripped. Choked on my own spit while yelling.”

  Naomi added gently, “She was coughing and flailing and still trying to insult the goose.”

  “I sounded like I was dying,” Camille admitted.

  “And I,” Naomi said, still calm, “offered her strawberry cough drops from my left pocket.”

  The group couldn’t stop laughing.

  Naomi returned to her seat, expression peaceful, as if she hadn’t just resurrected one of Camille’s least graceful moments. The dart was passed to Adrian.

  Adrian stepped up with the same ease as before. He took the dart, turned toward the board, and threw.

  Bullseye.

  Again.

  The room went still for the second time.

  Mira blinked. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  Naomi let out a soft “wow” under her breath. Even Elias looked up from his notes, just slightly.

  Adrian didn’t bask in the silence. He looked at Elias and said, calmly, “I’ll take the three-token bonus.”

  He paused, as if that was it. Then added, with the same unbothered tone, “Also, I’m spending three tokens to guess Elara’s objective.”

  Everyone straightened.

  He glanced across the circle. “Confession Collector.”

  Elara’s gaze sharpened instantly, not dramatic, but cutting. For the first time, her composure slipped.

  She reached for her card. Her fingers moved slow, controlled, but tight, and she flipped it over.

  Confession Collector.

  A small stir ran through the group. Naomi’s mouth parted. Mira whispered, “She was about to win, wasn’t she?”

  Elara didn’t answer. She just looked at Adrian, eyes narrowed. He met her stare evenly, and for a second, the corners of his mouth tugged upward.

  Camille sat back in her chair, one hand in her hair. “Oh my god. He’s scary.”

  “We were all watching the darts,” she added, turning to the others, “and he was already playing the real game.”

  Then her voice dropped. “But seriously… two bullseyes in a row? That can’t be a coincidence.”

  Camille rose with purpose this time, her movements sharper, less theatrical, like she’d just been personally challenged and didn’t intend to let it slide.

  She threw.

  The dart hit number nineteen, yellow zone. Twist category.

  Elias read the card, eyebrows lifting slightly. “Name something others assume about you, but they’re wrong.”

  Camille didn’t even pause. “People think I’m fearless. I’m not. I’m just louder than my fear.”

  The group gave a soft chorus of mhm’s and nods, but Camille was already stepping forward again.

  She pulled three tokens from her pile and set them down. “I’m spending these to make a guess.”

  Her eyes locked on Adrian.

  “I don’t care how good your aim is,” she said, voice light but clear. “You’re not walking out of this game without answering a single question, Mr. Vale.”

  “I guess your objective is… Bullseye Hunter.”

  Adrian looked up at her. For a breath, he said nothing, then held out his card.

  Camille took it, flipped it open.

  Not bullseye hunter.

  Then, louder, to the group: “I’m out.”

  Gasps, groans, laughter erupted at once.

  Mira’s voice broke the silence. “Wait, really? It wasn’t bullseye?”

  But no one asked what Adrian’s card said. That was the rule. Only the guesser got to see it.

  Elias didn’t speak, but his pen paused above the score sheet.

  To anyone else, this was still a game, a round of teasing, confessions, and luck with a dartboard. But Elias saw the shape of it more clearly now.

  From the very beginning, Adrian had placed himself in the middle of the order. A position safe from immediate suspicion, yet perfect for watching the others.

  From there, he built tension by triggering the objective guessing rule, something no one had touched, using it as a surgical strike. Elara had been one move away from winning. He ended it without drama.

  Then came Camille. Provoked just enough by his clean execution, just enough by the impossible precision of two bullseyes in a row, she reacted. Guessed. Failed.

  Two players out. Both strong, both close.

  And all the while, Adrian kept his own hands clean. No confessions. No questions. No wasted motion. He earned enough tokens to stay far from the penalty bracket and eliminated his closest threats without raising his voice.

  With Camille out and the room still reeling from Adrian’s takedown, the game moved on. The official tension had shifted, only four players were still in contention, but the others, the ones already disqualified, weren’t finished. They had entered the chaos phase.

  Elara threw.

  Bullseye.

  The dart struck the center cleanly, effortless.

  The group whistled, loud and impressed, followed by a wave of applause. Camille even gave a small standing clap.

  “Power Strike,” Elias said. “Effect?”

  “Three tokens,” Elara replied, already returning to her seat.

  She gathered her new total, six, and pushed them forward. “I’m using the chaos rule. Switching objectives.”

  She looked directly at Elias. “Mira and Adrian.”

  Mira nearly dropped her cup. “Wait, what?”

  Adrian said nothing, but his eyes lifted.

  Mira reached straight for Adrian’s hand and plucked the card from his fingers with all the grace of someone grabbing a stolen wallet.

  She flipped it open.

  Her eyes scanned the words, once, then again, slower.

  “You…” she said slowly, lifting the card like it had personally wronged her, “you haven’t hit a single number on this list.”

  Mira’s jaw dropped slightly before she snapped her attention back to him: “Oh, you knew this would happen.”

  Adrian didn’t answer. He reached over, took the card from her hand, and folded it with a half-smile. He’d expected something like this… just not that Mira would be this bad at throwing darts.

  ?