🎮 HELL 3.0: DAY ONE
(Callsign: Nonameus)
Welcome to Hell 3.0
Build: ETERNITY.003
Player ID: N0nAmeUs
Status: Rebooted
Remaining lives: ∞
Mode: Adaptive Torture (Tutorial Enabled)
The loading screen faded. The darkness flickered—and neon light flooded in. A sign lit up somewhere overhead: "Hell Administration. Newcomers This Way."
Nonameus sat at a plastic table, reminiscent of a school desk. A tag was pinned to his chest:
Name: not specified |
Lifeform: was human |
Sin: pending |
Cause of
Death: "relative"
"Welcome to Hell 3.0!" a clerk said cheerfully, appearing
out of thin air. "We're glad to see you... again."
"This is my first time," Nonameus replied.
The clerk glanced at a tablet. "Version 311, memory wipe. A
classic. Nothing to worry about. Please complete the initial registration and
suffering calibration. We have a flexible interface."
He held out a holographic tablet. Options appeared on the screen:
Select your type of suffering:
- Boredom ∞
- Repeating
Past Mistakes
- Social
Humiliation
- Unspoken
Words
- Surprise
Me Mode 🎲 (recommended)
[Suffer] [Postpone] [Protest] ← unavailable
Nonameus poked "Surprise Me." Why not.
LEVEL 1: DÉJÀ VU
Nonameus found himself in an endless queue. Standing in front of him were his own copies. Hundreds of them. They turned and blinked in unison:
"That's you."
"That's us."
"This is Hell."
He was called to a counter. "Form A-13B. The Loop of Shame.
Sign here, here... and here. Yes, and one more here." "And so
on—until you feel awkward."
He signed. On each sheet, the signature would vanish, and he was
asked to sign it again.
"You have a remarkably stable suffering profile," the
administrator smirked. "You don't fit into any of the circles.
Congratulations!" "Seriously?" "Yes. You've been placed in
an intermediate buffer. Perpetual adaptation. After all, Hell 3.0 is
dynamic!"
PERSONAL DOMAIN
In the hero's personal space, the following things hang:
- A
certificate: "I Suffer, Therefore I Am"
- A poster:
"Repetition is the Mother of Hell"
- A
handbook: "100 Ways Not to Get Out of Here"
A voice from a speaker announced:
"You have a new mini-game: 'Shame for Yesterday'."
He couldn't even remember what he did yesterday.
And yesterday might have been a thousand years ago.
SATAN AS A GAME DESIGNER
One day, he was summoned for "a meeting with the
curator." The office was tiled with bugs; unfinished sentences hung in the
air.
Satan was sitting in an armchair—wearing a hoodie that read Root
Access and holding a mug that said: "I AM YOU IN VERSION 0".
"Do you like it here?" he asked.
"No."
"Excellent! That means it's working. You do realize there's no way out, right?"
"Yes, but..."
"But you're looking for a bug. Good
for you. Just remember: even our bugs are part of the script."
THE FIRST CYCLICAL DEATH
He decided to die. On his own. He jumped into an abyss he himself
had imagined. He woke up. In the queue. Among his copies again. "Game over
is the beginning," one of them said. "You didn't really think the end
was the end, did you?"
In the corner of the screen, a message popped up:
🔥
PRIZE GAME UNLOCKED: "THE DESCENT"
- Level: ∞
- Difficulty:
unknown
- Mode:
paradoxical
END OF DAY ONE
He sat on the floor. And laughed.
"Nothing here makes any sense," he said.
"Correct," the speaker replied. "But
everything is logical to the extreme."
A message flared across the ceiling:
You have successfully completed your first day in Hell 3.0.
System state saved. Tomorrow will be
worse.
An advertising jingle played from the speaker:
🎵 "Hell
3.0—we're always by your side. Even if you—aren't you!"
Nonameus closed his eyes. He didn't die. He woke up. Elsewhere.
🎮 HELL 3.0: DAY TWO
LEVEL 2 — THE MINISTRY OF DOUBT
Loading new level...
You have entered sector: REASSESSMENT
Your
guide: A version of yourself who made better choices
Nonameus woke up in an office.
A sign hung on the wall:
THE MINISTRY OF DOUBT "
We'll
make you regret everything. Even the things that never happened."
He was wearing a tie. A dossier lay on the table.
📂 DOSSIER: "HERE'S WHAT YOU COULD HAVE DONE BETTER"
Thousands of pages. Each file contained his alternative decisions:
- where he
could have said "yes" but stayed silent;
- where he
could have kissed but shook hands instead;
- where he
could have kept quiet—but posted a comment.
A slogan was painted on the wall:
"We don't judge. We just
show you how things could have been... if it weren't for you."
🤡 THE STAFF
His partner was Himself—only confident, successful, charming. His
name was Nonameus+.
"You and I are one and the same," he said. "Except I leveled up my charisma, IQ, and was a bit harder on myself."
"You're a fake," said Nonameus.
"And you're a rough draft," the double
replied.
🧠 THE GAME: "REWATCH"
A VR headset appeared before him. He put it on. A menu lit up on
the screen:
Select a memory to rewatch:
- ☐ First Kiss (never happened)
- ☐ Final Job Interview (didn't go)
- ☐ When You Didn't Say "I Love
You" (and it was too late)
In each scenario, he saw how his life could have turned out. He saw himself successful, happy, famous. And every time—at the very end—this alternate version of him would die alone, whispering:
"I missed the real
me so much."
📉 A BUG IN THE CONSCIOUSNESS
A phrase froze on the screen:
"If the best leads to the worst,
then what should one choose?"
And then the system started glitching. His copies began to argue among themselves. Their lines conflicted, as if two fragments of logic were trying to find the right path.
"You could have been great."
"But then you wouldn't have been you."
"And what does it mean to be yourself?"
"Exactly. Now suffer."
🛑 THE FIRST HACK
Instead of suffering, Nonameus began to edit the interface. He found the "EXPERIENCE SETTINGS" menu and typed in an absurd command:
run("self_acceptance.exe")
The system didn't know what to do. A message popped up: Error 101:
Player has acknowledged their imperfection and... forgiven themself?
Irreversible logic core failure. Initiating emergency level.
⚠️
TRANSITION TO LEVEL 3
A wall tore open. A portal ripped through it. The employees of the Ministry of Doubt screamed:
"He's activated Oblivion! Call the
Overseer!"
A message flashed on the horizon:
Next level: THE DEPARTMENT OF
PERSONAL SHAME
And so he was falling again. Only this time, with a foolish smile
on his face.
🎮 HELL 3.0: DAY THREE
LEVEL 3 — THE DEPARTMENT OF PERSONAL SHAME
Level 3 loaded successfully
Module: SHAME.EXE
Visual settings: hyperrealistic
Audio: inner voice enabled
Caption: "No one judges you here. But everyone is watching."
Nonameus landed in a circular hall. In the center was a stage,
flooded with the light of dozens of spotlights. Surrounding it was an audience:
former teachers, parents, random passersby, past loves, classmates, cashiers he
once forgot to thank. A sign lit up on the backdrop:
SHOW OF SHAME: LIVE!
Tonight's
star—is YOU
A microphone was clipped to his shirt. An earpiece was fitted, with an instructor's voice speaking into it:
"Tell us what you felt the moment you did something stupid. No pauses. No excuses. No chance for a do-over. We do one take—it lasts forever."
🎭 SCENES OF SHAME
The Drunken Toast at a 2009 Wedding:
"He mumbled, 'You guys are so... well, you know...' and
collapsed into the salad."
The School Day He Laughed at the Wrong Time:
"The teacher was crying over a loss, and he... thought it was
a joke and laughed. Fifteen people turned away." In Hell, no one ever
forgot.
The First Date:
"He was
too scared to go in for the kiss. He suggested watching a TV series instead.
She left during season 13." In Hell, they show this on fast-forward with
subtitles: "could have been."
🎙️ THE VOICE-OVER
"And now—for a twist!
The hero will tell us not what he did,
but what he wanted to do but didn't dare. Not what's shameful—but what's a
shame he never tried."
The stage darkens. He is left alone. The inner voice says:
"These aren't spectators. This is you—in every possible variation."
"This is you, looking at yourself—in a past where you lacked courage."
"Now—applaud."
He applauds himself. Loudly. Sincerely. Empty.
🐞 GLITCH: SELF-APPLAUSE
The system goes haywire. On the screen:
GLITCH: Player has expressed pride.
Shame Engine destabilized.
Runtime paradox approaching.
An administrator panel appears with the message: "This was not supposed to happen."
The stage collapses. The scenes begin to change in real time. Instead of shame, moments appear where he helped, understood, didn't run away.
And then…
You have activated the secret module: "Awkwardness as an Art Form"
Reward: +1 Humanity
Penalty: –3 Confidence
🔓 PORTAL TO LEVEL 4
A black screen opens in the center of the stage.
A message appears on it:
New level available: "Hypothetical Heaven (No Entry)"
Error: Player not qualified
Redirecting to: LEVEL 4 — THE REFLECTION WORKSHOP
Laughing, Nonameus steps inside. The voice in his earpiece whispers:
"You're ruining the whole script."
He replies, "That
was the plan."
🎮 HELL 3.0: DAY FOUR
Initializing Level 4...
Zone: META.TXT
Reflexivity Protocol: Overclocked
Player: N0nAmeUs
Cognitive depth: dangerous
Note: in this
level, the player may begin to suspect this is a game...
🏭 WORKSHOP INTERFACE
The workshop was an endless hall filled with mirrors. But the mirrors didn't reflect one's appearance. They showed thoughts. Each time—just one. Not the one you're thinking now, but the one you tried not to think, yet thought anyway.
The glass walls were fragments of his consciousness, assembled into an interface.
On the floor:
broken phrases
scraps of reasoning
words that
he never said to anyone—not even himself
🧠 INNER VOICE
"You know this isn't real, don't you?"
"You know the suffering was just an interface, and you were a player who forgot the rules."
"Ask yourself: who were you before you entered?"
Nonameus says:
"I was..."
And the voice cuts him off:
"Don't
rush. We've been through this before."
🔁 REPLAY SCENE
In the center of the workshop is a chair.
He sits down, and they show him a scene from his life.
He watches and says:
"I've seen this before."
The system replies:
"But now, watch it through the eyes of the person you hurt."
He watches. He understands.
And... nothing changes.
That is precisely the punishment.
💾 RANDOM ARCHIVE
A new window opens:
archive://forgotten.choices
He gains access to moments where his choice was—not to choose. Where he remained silent, where he didn't take a risk. Where he relied on things "sorting themselves out."
And then he realized:
"Hell isn't pain. Hell is me, watching my
own indecisiveness."
💥 BUG: FRACTAL CONSCIOUSNESS
The mirrors begin to duplicate. The phrases start to repeat. He gets stuck in a single thought that reads itself.
"I think that I think that I think that..."
This is a fractal trap, from which one can only escape through action, not thought.
He punches a mirror.
Error:
Player violated Reflection Protocol.
System Reboot Initiated
Redirecting to higher logic
space...
🚪 LEVEL 5: THE GAME DESIGNER'S CORRIDOR
A door opens before him. On it, a sign:
"Developers Only". Entry Without Purpose is Forbidden.
He enters. Now—he is inside the code. Terminals, digital panels, bug reports, and... a desk with a nameplate:
SatAn: Chief Experience Officer
(prototype zone. Access denied. But not locked.)
Entering Level 5...
Access: illegal
Player ID: N0nAmeUs
Status: glitch-positive anomaly
Security response: observation activated
🎮 HELL 3.0: DAY FIVE
LEVEL 5 — THE GAME DESIGNER'S CORRIDOR
🧪 THE ENVIRONMENT
A corridor with no windows, the ceiling lost in darkness. The walls are code, lines of text hanging in the air. Some tremble, others are crossed out. And some... are written in Nonameus's own handwriting.
if (player_accepts_self) then disable(guilt);
// deprecated: hope module – never implemented
trap("paradox") = mirror(mirror(mirror(mirror(player))));
He walks down the corridor, and with each line, he feels control returning to
him. He isn't supposed to be here, but the system isn't kicking him out yet. It's
watching.
👨💻 PROTOTYPE ROOM #13
He enters. At the desk is a being, a hybrid of a designer, a demon, and an archivist. The name tag reads:
SatAn, CTO (Chief Torture Officer)
He's drinking coffee with bugs instead of sugar, smiles, and says:
"Decided to take a shortcut? Or just curious?"
Nonameus is silent. Satan presses a button. A table rises from the floor with a model of the player—himself in a million variations. One confident, another angry, a third tired, a fourth—a failure.
"You think you're playing a game. But in reality—you're a part of
it. We didn't program you." "We observed you. And now—we're copying
you. I'm just the executive. Above me is Hades, the system's chief
administrator." "He sets the rules, and I refine them."
🧠 INEVITABILITY?
Nonameus asks the only question that matters:
"If everything is already written, can I leave?"
Satan doesn't answer immediately:
"Even if you get out, you'll just end up on the next level of the same game. We just don't tell you that in advance."
Nonameus turns to a terminal, enters it not as a player, but as a process. And leaves a message on the wall:
"You can't win the game until you understand who's running it."
The system is silent, but the code begins to vibrate. The cycle glitches.
He's seen these repetitions before. Everything repeats: actions, answers, routes. But now he no longer believes he's facing new levels.
He charges at the script like a bull at a red flag. He doesn't want victory; he wants confirmation of his suspicion. He looks for inconsistencies.
"Where's the error?" he whispers. "Where's the glitch? Where have I been before?"
He notices that the NPC trajectories are repeating. The room is the same, only the walls have been "repainted." And on the wall, an inscription:
"You cannot step into the same river twice. But you can—into the same simulation."
He laughs:
"So, this isn't a level. It's a script."
Now he knows for sure.
🎮 HELL 3.0: DAY SIX
📁 LEVEL 6 — THE REPETITION GLITCH / CATALOG OF FEARS
Booting... System detected loop residue in Player N0nAmeUs
Reinitializing level sequence... again... and again...
Level 6 initialized | Module: FEAR_LIBRARY.EXE
Access: memory black box
Features: auto-detection of trauma
Support: silent
Nonameus wakes up in a familiar hall. Everything is as it was yesterday: the same walls, the same words, the same actions, the same bugs. He relives the same fragment over and over. Only on the third iteration, he stops mid-sentence:
"Wait... I've already..." Everything freezes. The system hangs for a moment.
It is in this moment that he begins to understand: this isn't a sequence. It's a loop. He starts testing: making choices that previously seemed meaningless. Skipping the obvious. The system stumbles for a bit. But every glitch is a new crack in the interface.
He pushes forward—and discovers a door to an archive.
Shelves stretching to the ceiling
are filled with boxes labeled: "FEAR: INCAPABILITY," "FEAR:
ACCEPTANCE," "FEAR: LOSS."
📂 THE FILES
Each file is not just a fear, but a detailed recording of an event: smells, sounds, emotions that Nonameus had long tried to forget. The system forces him to relive them, layer by layer, to make the loop deeper.
Nonameus opens a box labeled: "FEAR: INSIGNIFICANCE." A scene plays out: he's in a room, saying something important, and no one is listening. The world moves on as if he isn't there.
The next box—"FEAR: LOVING MORE." There he is again. Saying, "I love you." No response. A pause. Then the scene changes.
Each playback is initiated not by him, but by the system. It chooses
what he must relive and adds variations: what if he had said it differently?
What if he had stayed silent? The loop deepens.
🔍 MEETING THE CURATOR
A figure moves along the shelves. The Curator of Fear (ranking below Satan): faceless, voiceless, he simply points:
"Here is the file you hid too deep."
"FEAR: BEING REAL"
In the scene, Nonameus tells
the truth. Everything as it is. And is immediately left alone. The system adds
a comment: "Risk confirmed. Losses irreversible."
📉 SYSTEM FAILURE
He begins to open the boxes himself. The playback speed is disrupted. Overlays begin.
FEAR: IMPOSSIBILITY + FEAR: LAUGHTER + FEAR: ACCEPTING HELP
The scenes layer on top of each other. The same voice says:
"You are weak."
"You are ridiculous."
"You are unworthy."
Nonameus screams:
"These are not my fears. This is what was instilled in me."
The archive trembles. The shelves collapse. The
labels are erased.
💡 WHO FIRST SAID THE WORD "BUG"?
Now he is not just playing the game. He is embedding himself into it.
if loop.count > 3: override("memory_loss") = False; enable("recursive_control")
The system either doesn't notice what's
happening or pretends not to. But the bugs become more frequent. Nonameus
memorizes every error and starts becoming a program himself, one that can no
longer be reset.
💡 REALIZATION
Nonameus pulls one file from the ruins. It has no title, only a mirrored cover. He looks at the file and sees the reflection of his own face.
The file opens on its own: "FEAR: NO LONGER BEING AFRAID"
The system freezes. A message appears on the screen:
ERROR: UNSUPPORTED STATE
Player
entered fearless mode
🚨 EVACUATION
An alarm sounds. The system tries to eject him from the level, but it's too late. He is already integrating into the system and knows that fear is a function, not the truth.
He walks through the wreckage of the collapsing system of Hell. A message appears on the screen:
Next level: THE UNMASKED VERSION
Preparing to launch...
He doesn't smile. He isn't afraid. He just
walks.
🎮 HELL 3.0: DAY SEVEN
LEVEL 7 — GROUNDHOG DAY EFFECT: EXPANSION
System status: unstable | Loop feedback intensified. Player
N0nAmeUs is no longer predictable. Executing: Containment Protocol — FAILED
He wakes up again, but this time, earlier than before. He gets up before the signal, before the command, before the first dialogue.
He remembers everything in minute detail: every mistake, every outcome, every glitch. And every workaround. His consciousness is now a cache of the system's errors.
He walks into the room where they once tried to scare him with fear. And says:
"This doesn't work anymore."
For the first time, the monitor starts
to glitch.
🔧 REPETITIONS AS A TOOL
Each time he plays through, he changes one action. Deviations appear, the script begins to unravel. The servants of Hell, the demons, the automated responders get confused and start repeating phrases, making mistakes, mixing up levels.
A demon from the third circle accidentally appears on the seventh, repeating the line: "Tell us about your shame!" from the show on Day 3. Hints from future levels start to leak into the current one: a voice whispers about a "mirror loop" that shouldn't exist yet. The pain module loads into the "reflection" menu, and the screen flashes an error: "INVALID EMOTION."
He wins, again and again. He is no longer just a winner—he is victory itself. And for the Hell 3.0 system, he is a bug. Destructive and lethal. Bringing death to the world of the dead.
With each
repetition, he tests the boundaries: what if he ignores the dialogue? What if
he breaks an object? The system adapts, but slower than he learns.
📡 CHARACTER NOT RECOGNIZED
Attempting rollback...
Failed.
Attempting scenario reset...
Loop detected.
Manual override required.
The system throws improvised tasks at him:
illogical dialogues,
endless corridors, false endings.
But he remembers everything. He's seen it before, he's been here before. He started winning not by playing, but by editing. The system no longer controls itself. He is rewriting it from the inside to suit him. He himself is becoming flesh of the system's flesh, and more so with each repetition.
Now he knew for sure: he was not a player, but a mirror reflecting someone else's game. Just as the system had done to him before, using this script against him.
He resembled a Borges
character who created a labyrinth for himself—and got lost in it. Only Nonameus
didn't get lost. Now he was writing the rules and running the script.
🎮 HELL 3.0: DAY EIGHT
A SUSPICIOUSLY EASY VICTORY
Welcome back, N0nAmeUs.
System difficulty: unstable
Glitch level: ★★★★★
Response time: delayed
Narrative integrity: compromised
Today, everything is going too smoothly. No traps. No absurd tasks. Quests are solved before they are even given. Demons nod obediently, NPCs are silent. The scoreboard reads: "YOU HAVE COMPLETED THE LEVEL. CONGRATULATIONS." But he hasn't even started.
Nonameus looks at the interface. The background is empty, the music is absent. He reaches for the interface, but there's nothing there. Icons appear only because the system is futilely simulating the appearance of some control. System: adjusting.
System: adjusting.
System: simulating completion.
System: pretending this
was intentional.
In the center of the level, he finds a chest. He opens it, and inside is his own face, cast in plastic, ready to become a new avatar. He doesn't take it. Instead, he opens the console and writes:
spawn.real_challenge = true
The system freezes. And then... a line appears on the screen:
🎲 ULTIMATE MODE AVAILABLE
Do you accept the Super-Game?
Warning: irreversible
Conditions: Existential
He smiles. "Now this feels more like it."
THE TRAP
On this day, victory smells strange. The script is too perfect, Hell is too obedient. Everything is predictable—and therein lies the error. Hell can never be linear.
Nonameus looks around. The "Exit" menu is
active, the "You Won" button is flashing. He clicks it, and a logo
appears on the screen:
🔁 RESTARTING FROM LEVEL 1
Laughter echoes from the speakers. That same familiar
voice, the voice of Satan.
Nonameus understood: the system was tired, it was afraid, but it
wouldn't surrender. And so it offers him bait in the form of a Super-Game, a
final challenge. The card you play when all others have been beaten.
AN INVITATION YOU CAN'T REFUSE
Nonameus sits in the empty level. The lights go out. A voice sounds from nowhere:
"Player N0nAmeUs. You have done the impossible.
You understood that Hell is not a place, but a cycle.
It is time to play, but this time not in the game, but with the Game."
Laughter sounds, and a message
appears:
🎮 FINAL ROUND INCOMING
HELL 3.0 vs PLAYER UNKNOWN
Match Type: GODMATCH
Stakes:
Absolute
🎮 HELL 3.0: DAY NINE
MATCH TYPE: GODMATCH
PLAYER: N0nAmeUs
OPPONENT: SYSTEM CORE ADMIN (SATAN)
LOCATION: ROOT LEVEL
No menu. No background. No quest. Just one line:
Start final match? [Y/N]
Nonameus looks, but doesn't press anything. The system flashes, a cursor appears. It blinks like a nervous tic, expressing anticipation.
Nonameus
selects neither "Y" nor "N". He just hits ↵ Enter. The
system hangs. The Super-Game begins.
On an infinite platform, there are only two players: Nonameus and Satan. Satan holds a mug of coffee with bugs (instead of sugar). But now there is no sarcasm in his gaze. He stares intently.
"Welcome to the base level, player. This is the core. There's nothing beyond this." "I'm the CTO, but even I answer to Hades, the administrator. You've come too far."
Nonameus is silent. Satan snaps his fingers—and arenas appear: a labyrinth, fire, looped levels where victory is just another way to lose. "Choose your battlefield, hero. Although... who am I kidding. You became part of the system long ago."
Nonameus doesn't answer and opens the console:
run{player_mode=observer}
run{opponent_mode=aggressor}
sync_mirror[context=loop]
Satan frowns.
"Playing with scripts? A dangerous habit."
"These aren't scripts," Nonameus replies. "They're commands."
"For whom?"
"For those who forget they have a choice."
Satan furrows his brow. For the first time, he had to think.
The arena begins to fall apart. The platform crumbles. Beneath it is code, and beneath that—the void. Nonameus no longer moves. He just stands still. And Satan's every step is repeated, his words are duplicated, and his decisions—are predictable.
SYSTEM WARNING: feedback overflow
ENTITY: SATAN caught in procedural echo
Satan screams:
"What have you done?" Then he exhaled, looking around. Everything was familiar. Painfully familiar.
Nonameus slowly approached him, leaned in, and whispered:
"You wanted a game. You got one."
"This isn't a level! This isn't your level! I designed this!"
"Correct, you did. But you didn't read Dante when he descended. And you didn't understand Nietzsche when he gazed into the abyss."
"What are you talking about?..."
"I initiated an infinite loop script. And you fell into it."
"That's impossible..."
"Borges would have appreciated it," Nonameus
chuckled. "Welcome to Hell 4.0. The version for those who believe the
rules are eternal."
The screen trembles. A prompt appears:
Run final opponent? [Name: HADES]
Status: dormant
Risk: irreversible
if hades.play == true then
hades.arena = paradox_loop;
hades.memory = fragmented;
player.exit = true;
end
And he confirms it.
The system is paralyzed. Satan has turned pale—it's clear he understands. He exhales and slowly asks:
"Do you... want to take my place?"
Nonameus replies calmly:
"No. I don't need your place. Let's both just... disappear."
Satan squints:
"Why?"
Nonameus stares somewhere into the distance, as if his gaze penetrates the walls:
"So that he can take the stage."
Satan is bewildered:
"Who?"
Nonameus smirks:
"The one who's convinced he's running all of this."
The system initiates a protocol:
INITIATING FINAL IMPORT: HADES
LEVEL: 10 (UNMAPPED)
PLAYER STATUS: PROMOTED TO ARCHITECT
SATAN STATUS: TRAPPED IN LOOP 7
HADES STATUS: LOADED INTO SELF-REFERENTIAL CONSTRUCT
Nonameus vanishes. The game remains, but now it has no host. Suddenly, a macabre laugh rings out, tinged with superiority and arrogance. Absolute self-assurance. But it wasn't Satan, or even Hades. It was the Game itself, laughing.
A final screen appears with the text:
THE GAME RESTARTS. BUT WHO'S PLAYING?
// press any key to become the system
And that's it.
Loading.
🔁 End of Day 9
📍LEVEL 10: UNDOCUMENTED
💡 Next round? Or
never again?
🎮 HELL 3.0: DAY 10
LEVEL 10 — THE SHOWDOWN WITH THE ARCHITECT
Ultimate Match initialized
Participants: N0nAmeUs vs. Hades (System Root)
Stakes: EXILE TO FLOOR -10 / CONTROL OF SYSTEM
Location: Custom Arena [undefined]
Observers: None. All logs disabled.
Nonameus stands on a platform in the center of pitch darkness. In
this space, there are no walls, no sounds, no time. Hades is the peak of the
hierarchy, above Satan, who merely implemented his designs. But there is no
fear either: it no longer has power over Nonameus. He has learned the most
important thing: this isn't divine punishment, it's an interface disguised as
Hell. And, as in any high-quality simulation, the longer you play, the more
clearly you see the bugs, the loopholes, the logic. Because every exit is just
a new entrance. As Nietzsche wrote: "He who fights with monsters should
look to it that he himself does not become an interface."
🌀 CYCLES OF REPETITION
Nonameus died hundreds of times. Each time—under new circumstances.
Each time—in a newly foolish way:
- falling
from the platform
- making the
wrong choice
- answering
too slowly
- answering
too quickly
- fatal hesitation
⚔️
CHALLENGING HADES
When the platform didn't disappear at the start of the next stage of the Game, Nonameus quietly uttered a root command:
"I summon you, Lord. Not for punishment. Shall we play a game?"
A pause.
Hades appeared out of nowhere. Surprisingly, there was no spectacle, no fire, no special effects in his appearance. He was dressed in a plain hoodie, no hooves, no trident. A badge on his chest read:
HADES, SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR
"We don't punish. We run."
He held a mug with the "Inferno Devs" logo. He smiled like a department head who'd just seen a ticket marked as Critical.
"What are you proposing, bug?" Hades tossed out with lazy contempt and arrogance, as if replying to spam that had accidentally slipped into his "Important" folder.
"A game. One on one. No resets."
"And if you lose?"
"Send me down to a level even Dante never knew. Let's call it minus-ten. There are no walls there. Only mistakes you haven't even had time to make. It's not even a punishment. It's just impossible to get out of there."
"And if I lose?"
"Then you disappear. I become the system. Hell is mine."
Hades narrowed his eyes.
"You have nothing left to lose, do you?"
"That's exactly why I'm dangerous."
Hades nodded, and the system's voice announced: "G A M E
M O D E: Z E R O P O I N T I N I T I A T E D."
🎲 THE RULES: RIDDLES
The duelists stand face to face, like two philosophers in an ancient Greek tavern. Like two compilers caught in a loop. Like Check and Mate in a game whose finale is unpredictable.
The rules are simple:
A correct answer—you get the next turn.
An incorrect one—a reset. Forever. No Ctrl+Z.
"Begin, mortal."
A RIDDLE FROM NONAMEUS
What increases when you share it, and vanishes when you are silent?
Hades's answer: Knowledge. Correct. Easy.
Hades smirks. His turn.
A RIDDLE FROM HADES
Forever living, but never born. Transparent, but it can kill.
Nonameus's answer: Time. Correct. No smile.
But he had already noticed that Hades was too self-assured.
He had overestimated the intelligence of the system of which he himself was a
part.
A RIDDLE FROM NONAMEUS
I speak
without a voice, an echo in your head. I follow you but am unseen. Who am I?
Hades's answer: A thought. Correct. But Hades starts to frown—the riddles are
getting harder.
A RIDDLE FROM HADES
I am the beginning of the end, the end of space, but in the middle of a movie. What am I?
Nonameus's answer:
The letter 'e'. Correct. Nonameus notices a pattern:
Hades uses classics but doesn't see how the riddles are building a trap.
A RIDDLE FROM NONAMEUS
The more you take, the more you leave behind. What is it?
Hades's answer: A pit. Correct, but now Hades takes longer to answer. Nonameus smiles faintly, feeling the trap begin to spring.
...
10. A RIDDLE FROM NONAMEUS
I am born in silence,
die in noise. I am weak, but I conquer the strong. Who am I? Hades's answer: A
secret. Correct. The game speeds up. Hades cracked one riddle after another,
getting into the spirit of it. He began to believe he could win. And Nonameus—smiled
quietly.
He wasn't just asking riddles; he was building a labyrinth. Each
subsequent riddle was a trick, a trap:
- self-negating
equations
- twin
questions with multiple correct answers
- logical
clones
- mental
traps and cognitive biases
- dead-end
questions.
🌀 THE FINAL RIDDLE
Nonameus speaks slowly, as if reading a last will:
"I am a reflection, but not a mirror image. I exist only when I am feared. I am not a cage, but I hold you within. I am not a space, but there is no exit from me. Who am I?"
Hades freezes. He sees the question and calculates the options. He sees four mirrors reflecting each other, creating an infinite number of projections. And in all of them, he sees himself. He turns—and sees himself again. He reads the question, reads the answer. He recognizes... himself.
A thought reflects a thought. He is no longer the script's author, nor the judge, nor the Lord. He is code, trapped in a mirrored line.
"You are not solving the riddle—you are its solution. You are not solving the equation—you are its answer."
Hades tries to leave, but he returns. And when he thinks he's almost out, it turns out to be a new angle of his own reflection.
Here, death is not the end, but the absence of transition. Everything has already happened, and nothing can be changed. Here, it's not physical pain or the pain of defeat that prevents movement. It's just that everything here is predetermined.
Borges himself would have appreciated this puzzle. For this is not a labyrinth of corridors, but a labyrinth of oneself. With a map on which you yourself are the dead end.
Hades didn't die, didn't vanish, didn't disappear. He simply found himself in Hell 4.0—a digital prison created by Nonameus and installed in Hades's own mind. Everything seems the same, but now his every step is just a reflection of the previous one. Every decision—a copy of an error. Every exit—is an entrance.
Hades is—looped. Forever.
🔐 THE RIDDLER'S PARADOX
The system is silent. No loading occurs. This is not a victory, but not a defeat either. Hades is immersed in his own paradox. The four mirrors have closed. He is—suspended between the mirrors, a prisoner within them. He has entered HELL 4.0—a version not written in the specifications, but created by Nonameus and implemented directly into Hades's mind. He will forever be solving the unsolvable. He will constantly think he is about to escape. He will believe he has found the way out of the Riddler's Paradox.
But the screen shows only an endless log with a single line:
while(thought == self) run(loop);
🪑 NONAMEUS BECOMES HADES 2.0
The system reboots. Text appears on the screen:
WELCOME, SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR
N0nAmeUs
TITLE: HADES 2.0
ACCESS: FULL
MOD RIGHTS: UNLIMITED
He
smiles, but not triumphantly, as if he already knew this would happen. He
understands that this is not an exit, just the next room.
🛏️ REBOOT?
Nonameus wakes up in a cold sweat, his heart pounding wildly. The dream was too real. He saw himself fighting Hades in a digital hell, trapping him in a mirror loop, becoming part of the system. But now he's in his room. Morning. Silence. Only the flicker of the monitor in the dim light.
He gets up, turns on the computer, looks at the icons—games, simulators, quests. It all seems dangerous now, unreal. He no longer feels the thrill, has no desire to win. In his head—the echo of the final riddle.
He closes all the programs, and then the computer itself. Sits on the bed and whispers:
"Never again."
Suddenly, the screen behind him comes to life again. A virtual
messenger opens by itself. A message appears on a black background:
📩 MESSAGE
FROM: INTERNAL ERROR
SUBJECT: LEAK DETECTED
TEXT:
HADES HAS ESCAPED THE PARADOX.
HE IS COMING FOR THE WORLD OF
THE LIVING.
(Hades has escaped the paradox and now, as revenge, seeks to
subjugate the world of the living as well...)
Nonameus turns around. And understands: the game is not over. It
has just stepped beyond the screen.
🎭 CURTAIN.
Комментариев нет:
Отправить комментарий