The question hovered in midair, emitting a dim, chilling glow.
No one dared to reach for it.
These were people who once dominated boardrooms, manipulated markets, and dictated outcomes with a single word.
Now—
They stood like livestock awaiting slaughter.
Silent.
Helpless.
The simplicity of the question made it even more terrifying.
The air thickened.
Heavy.
Almost solid—
As if breathing itself required effort.
Some were drenched in cold sweat, teeth clenched so tightly they trembled, fists balled until their knuckles turned white.
Others stared blankly, tears welling uncontrollably, lips quivering violently—
Yet no sound came out.
As though an invisible hand had wrapped itself around their throats.
And some—
Collapsed.
Knees slamming against the ground with a dull thud.
As they fell, the floating red and green orbs descended with them—
Pressing close to their foreheads.
Cold.
Unyielding.
Like judgment itself.
"W-What… do we choose…?"
A man clawed at his scalp, fingernails digging deep enough to draw blood.
His voice trembled—not just with confusion—
But with absolute, primal fear.
Everyone understood one thing.
The "executioners" on the screen—
Were no longer human.
They were something else.
Something closer to—
Avenging ghosts.
Performing a cruel reenactment of retribution.
An eye for an eye.
A simple law.
Even justified—
Once.
But now?
After everything they had witnessed—
After days of relentless broadcasts—
They understood a new rule.
A law far more absolute:
Do not harm animals.
Treat them well.
That was the only reason they were still alive.
And now—
This question.
Was it a test?
A trap?
A final confirmation—
To see whether they would still turn a blind eye to suffering?
What do we choose?
The question coiled around every heart like a venomous serpent.
Red.
Green.
Life?
Death?
Redemption?
Or deeper damnation?
Was this—
A dead end?
They began calculating.
Analyzing.
Overthinking every possibility.
Hands reached out—
Then withdrew.
Again.
And again.
The glowing orbs no longer looked like choices.
They looked like—
Coffins.
"The countdown… has started…"
Someone whispered.
Or maybe sobbed.
No one could tell.
Above them—
A number formed from interlocked pangolin scales.
60
And it began to fall.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Each second—
A heavy drumbeat.
Striking directly against their souls.
A group of people who had spent their entire lives competing—
Winning—
Dominating—
Now stood frozen.
Looking at one another.
Waiting.
No one wanted to be first.
The air felt sealed—
Like they were trapped inside glass.
Even breathing echoed.
"W-Why are you looking at me?!"
A dark-skinned man snapped.
But his own eyes darted wildly, searching for someone else to act.
"Then stop looking at me."
A pale, rugged-looking man shot back coldly.
In the crowd—
A real estate tycoon trembled.
He remembered.
Years ago—
A wetland.
Filled in.
Destroyed.
A habitat erased.
For profit.
His gaze flickered toward the green light—
Then recoiled instantly.
As if it burned.
Green meant mercy…?
Then red—
He didn't dare continue that thought.
Nearby—
A glamorous actress stood frozen.
Her beauty gone.
Her face pale.
How many furs had she worn?
How many products built on suffering?
Her fingers trembled as they brushed against her coat.
Synthetic.
But her past—
Was not.
Would red condemn her?
Would green forgive her?
"This isn't a choice—this is an interrogation!"
An old man screamed hoarsely.
A former pharmaceutical chairman.
Built on animal testing.
On suffering.
"No matter what we choose—we're doomed!"
"…No."
A quiet voice spoke.
A young man.
A programmer.
Once rich.
Once admired.
Now—
Just another soul waiting for judgment.
"…This is a pledge."
Everyone turned.
"A pledge?"
He nodded slowly.
"A pledge of the soul."
"They want us to choose—between our survival…"
"…and the lives we once treated as expendable."
His voice grew heavier.
"This isn't just a choice."
"It's a declaration."
"We must admit…"
"…that their lives—"
"…are equal to ours."
"…or perhaps—"
He paused.
"…worth more."
Silence.
Then—
Chaos.
"Equal?! We're human! They're animals!"
Someone shouted immediately.
"Animals?"
The young man laughed coldly.
He pointed at the screen—
At the flaying—
The suffering—
"At this point… what are we?"
Silence returned.
Crushing.
Absolute.
The red and green lights flickered.
Temptation.
Threat.
Together.
Choose red—
Lose something.
But what?
Yourself?
Or others?
Choose green—
Prove kindness?
Or fake it?
Does forced compassion even count?
"Enough—stop arguing. Look at the time."
A slick-haired lawyer spoke.
Calm.
Controlled.
Even now.
Even here.
A man who once treated animals as property—
Now calculating survival.
30 — 29 — 28 —
The tension snapped tighter.
At 25—
It became unbearable.
"I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!"
The rugged man roared.
His fist slammed forward—
Into the green light.
"Life for a life! Those beasts deserved it! They died right!"
The green light exploded.
Cold fire engulfed him.
A glowing circle formed beside him.
Everyone froze.
Watching.
Waiting.
Nothing happened.
No scream.
No pain.
He remained—
Frozen mid-strike.
Then—
His knees slammed into the ground.
A heavy force pressed down on him.
His expression—
Changed.
The madness—
Faded.
Clarity—
Returned.
He opened his hand slowly.
The green flames still clung to him.
"…I'm… fine…"
He laughed weakly.
"…I'm fine…"
"Did he… pass?"
The young programmer whispered.
Eyes wide.
A middle-aged woman broke down.
Laughing.
Crying.
A fur merchant.
Hands soaked in blood.
"I choose green! I choose green! I'll quit! I'll donate everything! PLEASE—LET ME LIVE!"
She lunged—
Toward the green light.
10
Another man—
Consumed by paranoia—
Made a different choice.
"This is a trap… the green is punishment…"
He gritted his teeth—
And threw himself into red.
The red light surged.
Thick.
Like blood.
A glowing cross appeared beside him.
One second.
Two.
Nothing.
Both—
Alive.
Confusion erupted.
Logic collapsed.
The lawyer's face paled.
Even he—
Could not understand.
5 — 4 — 3 —
Panic.
Pure panic.
Some closed their eyes—
And chose blindly.
Some chose green.
Some chose red.
And then—
The lawyer moved.
In the final second—
He raised both hands—
And plunged them into both lights.
Outside—
The world watched.
Leaders.
Governments.
Observers.
All holding their breath.
Above—
It watched too.
"The first… spokesperson has appeared."
Then—
It spoke to the Nightmare Beast beside it.
"Prepare the next dream."
The beast closed its eyes.
Sleeping.
Or waiting.
The light faded.
What remained—
Was no longer red.
No longer green.
But a symbol.
A fusion—
Of circle and cross.
The programmer stared.
Shaking.
His pupils trembling.
Scanning every detail—
Refusing to miss anything.
And when his gaze met the lawyer's eyes—
Empty.
Silent.
He understood.
And began to tremble uncontrollably.