For a fleeting moment, an overwhelming force tore through Takakai's mind.
He knew full well what he was doing was suicidal—in fact, that was the point. Why else would he choose the purple-marked door, the one that screamed [EXTREME DANGER]? The moment he'd been marked, escape had ceased to be an option. So instead, he dove headfirst into greater peril, gambling on finding a sliver of survival within the chaos.
[Sensei… sensei…]
The whispers slithered from beyond the door.
Hands—skeletal, rotting, stitched together from flesh and stone—reached out from the darkness and seized him.
Pain.
His vision shattered into grotesque fragments.
The classroom split down the middle.
The students at their desks lost their faces.
Eyes, noses, and mouths slid off and pooled on the floor.
Skin melted, fused with the walls, then cracked apart, floating midair like grotesque confetti before sticking to surfaces and writhing.
Crying. From everywhere.
The hands dragging him in were no longer hands—just shapes cobbled from rot and bone.
His thoughts fractured.
His body crumbled.
Somewhere, a man's detached voice echoed:
[Another class lost. Seal this room.]
[Unknown what they conceptualized. One monster? Multiple? The contamination spreads—just approaching the door risks unseen forces pulling you in.]
[Six classrooms terminated. At this rate, the building will be unusable. But we're running out of test groups. Let's hope the last one yields something viable.]
A click. The door locked.
Then—darkness. Absolute.
The children sat in silence.
Waiting.
Until Takakai opened the door.
CRACK—CRACK—
His body splintered as he saw them—pale, hollow-eyed children, mouths moving soundlessly.
[Sensei…]
They closed in.
[Sensei… it's so dark here…]
Their voices inside his skull now, their fragmented bodies merging with his flesh.
Another second, and he'd dissolve like the rest.
[Takakai-kun? Why does everything feel… wrong?]
Kaguya's hand gripped his shoulder.
Her voice—confused.
Which would've been less unsettling if it hadn't come from her severed head rolling at his feet.
BUZZ—
The psychic backlash intensified.
Takakai split further:
One self—melting into the classroom, becoming part of the horror.
Another—cradled by Kaguya's headless body, her fingers wrapping around his neck—
POP.
Like twisting off a doll's head. Easy.
[Takakai-kun… what's happening to me?]
Her disembodied voice persisted.
And then—he saw it.
Her death.
An open courtyard. A rule carved into the wall.
The thing that appeared behind her.
A chase.
A familiar-looking refuge—too late.
Too slow.
No tricks. No blessings.
Just hands wrenching her head clean off.
That was the moment Shinomiya Kaguya died.
But not truly.
Like the survivors.
The vision expanded.
Shirashawa Elementary's final year—sealed by the anomaly. No escapees.
Yet some "survived."
An experiment.
To create mononoke that mimicked the living—weapons to infiltrate enemy bases.
Inspired by Fujika Academy's failure.
But Shirasawa was already collapsing.
The project's success? Unknown.
[No wonder there were no corpses.]
Takakai understood now.
The "survivors" were already mononoke.
Like Kaguya—trapped in the delusion of life.
Only subtle tells betrayed them.
And they themselves never noticed.
This mechanism required intact bodies.
Or reconstruction.
Kaguya's head and body—separated after death.
But Takakai's reckless escape had rejoined them.
Triggering the condition.
Placing her where "survivors" belonged—the shelter, the rocking chair.
These "living" mononoke still killed.
But in their deluded state, they could also be killed—recognized as humans by other anomalies.
If not destroyed?
They'd stalk the living.
Replicate their fate.
The soldiers who'd returned "unharmed" to camp?
This was why.
[Does that mean… the military base I saw…]
A whole division.
Thousands.
All thinking they're alive.
All waiting to creep up behind you.
All eager to pluck off heads.
The mental agony began to subside.
The blood Takakai had swallowed thrummed—a protective barrier.
Even under dual anomalies' execution rules, even flooded with lethal intel, his mind held firm.
(Not that he needed the blood's aid. His psyche could withstand far worse. But he required its stabilizing effect now—for the third and deadliest assault.)
She had arrived.
[Sensei, what are you doing here? You're not allowed in~]
A giggle.
A small figure—1.2, maybe 1.3 meters tall—materialized beside him.
Hachiya Chiyo.
Takakai knew her name.
But this was the first time he'd seen her mostly human.
Black hair, brittle and uneven—hacked short with scissors.
A bruised eye socket.
A split lip, missing teeth, dried blood.
Her uniform—filthy. Reeking.
Had someone… thrown feces on her?
Yet she smiled.
[Sensei, this room is sealed. The principal said no one can enter. No one can come close.]
Her head tilted.
[Why would you break the rules, sensei? That's very bad, isn't it?]