The Sixth Fragment

Renowned psychologist Dr. Vance was found dead in his windowless study, clutching a hand mirror. Written on the glass in blood was a single phrase: 'You are out of order.' Five of his devoted students stood trembling around the body as the playback of his Last Will began. The voice was Vance's, but the tone was manic: '1. My Temple goes to the smartest heir.' '2. You must prove you are not me.' '3. If there is a tie, eliminate the others.' '4. Note well: The statements following this one are lies.' '5. The one raising their right hand now is the only real person.' '6. I have already executed one of you.' As the tape ended, the youngest student, Leo, stared into the mirror, then at his own empty palm. He screamed—a sound of pure, shattering grief—and collapsed, stone dead. As the others recoiled, a bruise in the shape of the number '6' darkened on Leo's right hand. There was no weapon. There was no poison. And, the students realized with horror, there was no door.