The sound of hooves across the pavement. The ceaseless chattering of voices. In the middle of it all, a figure unseen. Head down, smug grimace on his face, he looked at the ponies around him with nothing but contempt. Still nothing to do, no company but his own thoughts.



"I'm... dead?!" The question seemed ridiculous now, but he'd been confused at the time. A blank white room, a disembodied voice telling him what he'd suspected but didn't want to hear. The voice sounded out again, but at this point it sounded more annoyed than anything else.
"Yep! Welcome to the Underground, where you're... *snigger* ...'beneath' the attention of the living!" There was no echo in this room, no noise at all once speech had ceased. The silence constricted his thoughts as badly as any distraction had ever accomplished in the past.
"You have once chance to live again: The Reaper's Game. Win, and you'll be resurrected, yeah? Lose, and you lose your entry fee and... well, your right to exist."
Something about the emphasis the voice had placed upon the game didn't quite sit well with the pony. "Entry fee? What could you possibly take...?" The hesitance in his question more than sounded his reluctance to hear the answer, but the voice was already on the answer.
"...from a dead pony?" A brief pause "Whatever you value most."
He paused for a moment, and then solemnly nodded. "Whatever it is, then. Take it."
The voice chuckled. "It's already done. Good luck."



The pony looked around him. Whatever he held most dear? His possessions, maybe? His family? His memories?
He shook his head at his own foolish thoughts. He obviously still had his memories. And for it to be his family or his possessions, he'd have to value them most. He shook his head. "They don't matter as much, anymore. I made my own success. Ain't nobody claimin' success off my name now but me."



Suddenly, a ringing sound from the ground nearby. He looked around frantically for a few moments, before finally spotting the phone laying on the pavement. It wasn't his, that was for sure... but then, whose was it? The ringing had stopped, only signaling the arrival of a small text message. He looked at it hesitantly, only to see a very basic message.

"Assignment: Reach 104
Time limit: 60 minutes
Fail, and face erasure."

Suddenly, a massive pain from his hoof. He turned it upwards to see glowing numbers on the underside, counting down. A timer... on him? Classy.

He looked up, only to see a giant building with the logo "104" on it in giant lettering. A smirk and he walked off towards it, only to be thrown backwards as an invisible barrier appeared. A pony in a red hoodie standing nearby looked at him, and spoke. "Want past this wall? Form a Pact with another Player."

Gibberish, but it was obviously instructions on how to 'win' this day. He shook his head and snorted, before heading out towards a statue of a dog he spotted in the distance. Form a Pact? Other Players? And just what was his Entry Fee? He walked off, but he had a figure he was going to have to meet other "players" soon. How would he introduce himself? "Hi, my name's-"


He paused. Thought for a moment. "My entry fee's..."
The color drained from his face. Beneath his composed exterior, he was... worried. SOMEONE was worried. He had his memories, but... he couldn't describe himself. He couldn't NAME himself.

"Oh. Shit."