Enter Tartarus

Logan opened his eyes after what seemed like an eternity. But there was something different. All he could see was a glowing screen as if he were on a game character creation screen.

What is going on here...?

[Optical nerve calibration in progress...]

[Successful!]

With that text, his eyes 'opened'. At first, everything was blurry but slowly became clear... clearer than ever before. Logan didn't have poor eyesight before, but the quality he could see now was unparalleled.

It was startling, but what startled him more was his... face. He was naked, strapped to a vertical bed, and facing a gigantic mirror.

"That's... me?" Logan mumbled.

The man staring at him had similar features to him, but at the same time, he looked too different. He didn't have the long hair Logan had or the dirt-brown eyes.

His hair was trimmed short, and his eyes emitted an unusual neon blue glow. But that wasn't all. His body was now toned and muscular, unlike the stick-figure shape he had before.

There was a metal collar around his neck and a tattoo right below the left shoulder which read '208'. Logan didn't know it then, but 208 was his name now. After all, Logan had died for the world.

Even his veins seemed to glow under his skin, which was covered in scars. It was then Logan remembered the masked figure who had cut open his body and torn it to pieces. He didn't think he'd make it out of there alive… but there was he.

Upon paying closer attention, Logan realized the scars on his body didn't look like regular stitches or cuts. The scars gave the impression that his skin had been melted and fused back together.

"What have they done to me!?" Logan yelled.

A moment later, he began thrashing around, but the restraints remained in place no matter how much force he applied. Suddenly, a jolt of pain shot through his body, starting from his neck.

His muscles stiffened, locking him in place as the collar around his neck continued to shock him. After a couple of minutes, the collar went back to normal and Logan slumped on the bed... unable to move.

But that wasn't the end of his misery. A moment later, he heard a soft hissing sound and the room slowly began filling up with a foul-smelling gas. Suddenly he felt drowsy, unable to keep his eyes open, and as usual... he failed miserably at staying awake.

The last thing he saw before collapsing was his reflection... laughing at him.

***

Hyeon stepped forward, staring at Logan's unconscious body through a camera feed. By her side was the crazy doctor, who slowly changed Logan's face and body over the course of a month.

"Well, Ms. Hyeon," the doctor began, rubbing his hands together. "Do you like the product?"

Hyeon didn't reply at first, but gave the doctor a rare smile. However, instead of feeling happy, the doctor was scared to death.

Hyeon, also known as the Valkyrie, was one of the doctor's first products. It had been ten years since then and Hyeon had climbed the ladder to go from a lowly prisoner to an overseer and the voice of the higher-ups, leaving a trail of corpses as she did.

Throughout that entire period, the doctor had never seen her smiling when she wasn't covered in the blood of her enemies. But today, she was pleased with what she saw and allowed herself to show some emotion.

"Impressive," Hyeon mumbled. "The superiors will be extremely pleased with the outcome."

With that, she turned to leave, but stopped at the gates.

"I hope I don't need to remind you that no one, not even the warden, can know about this," she said calmly, but Doc knew it was a threat.

"O-Of course, Ms. Hyeon!" Doc replied. "Ms. Hyeon, there's one thing... Could you please keep Warden away from me? He's been... threatening to shoot me. I can't work under that kind of stress and the higher-ups—"

"The warden's behavior is not my concern, Doctor," Hyeon replied in her strict tone. "But I'll see what I can do about it. Meanwhile, my guards will take Prisoner 208 from here. Prepare him for transportation to the main prison."

"...right."

***

The next day...

Logan stepped out of the armored vehicle for the last time. He wore standard-issue prison clothes—a dull gray jumpsuit with a number stitched across the chest: 208.

Other than that, there was nothing on him, apart from the heavy collar around his neck.

"Move!" the guard yelled, shoving him.

However, Logan didn't flinch and blankly stared ahead. The guard stared at him, his hand inching closer to the button attached to his belt. It would have shocked him mercilessly, and he wasn't a fan of that sensation, so Logan walked up to the gates.

As he approached the gates, a red light scanned him from head to toe and an electronic voice announced: "Prisoner 208. Entry authorized."

The doors creaked open slowly. Logan was expecting to see a massive structure before him. But all he saw was a contingent of guards and an elevator.

The guards motioned for Logan to step into the elevator, which could only fit one person at a time. Logan sighed and entered the chamber, which slammed shut behind him, and a moment later, began its descent.

"Home sweet home..." Logan mumbled as the elevator slowed down.

The doors opened with a hiss, and Logan stepped out, expecting to see a cellar waiting for him. However, nothing could have prepared for what he saw before him.

Right before his eyes was a neon-lit city. All he could see were towering skyscrapers, flickering signs, and narrow streets crammed with people.

"What is this place...?"

Logan felt a chill run down his spine. It wasn't just a prison, but a world of its own. A moment later, the cuff snapped open on its own and a message appeared before him.

[Welcome to Tartarus, 208.]

[You have a new mission: Survive the Death Game.]

[Rewards: Unknown.]

[Punishment: Unknown.]