[Diary Entry: Sergeant Morishita]
Huh. Not Private Morishita?
Takakai couldn't help but internally snark as he flipped open the notebook.
He glanced around.
No "friends" appeared.
It seemed the longer he stayed in this dungeon—and the stronger his willpower grew—the less effective the cognitive interference became.
But that wasn't important.
He kept reading.
[This record begins on my third day trapped in Shirasawa Elementary. If I do not survive, I hope this journal will be delivered to the military, so they know I died a glorious warrior for the Greater Co-Prosperity Sphere—not as a deserter or missing person.]
[Three days ago, during the capture operation, my squad encountered a pitch-black creature. Our weapons—guns, bayonets—had no effect. We were scattered. I was injured and forced to take shelter, stumbling into this room, which I've since fortified.]
[Since Day 1, I've searched for other soldiers, but I cannot leave this school, nor find any other living souls.]
The timeline was clear, but… he couldn't find anyone else?
Had the military base not yet merged with the school when he was trapped here?
[This school was supposedly established to develop secret weapons to win the war. I don't know the specifics, but its interior constantly shifts—hallways, rooms, all changing unpredictably. Remarkable. Beyond that, I've encountered unfathomable horrors: the black creatures that cannot be killed, the man with the dog who makes you flee at a glance, the things with blood-red smiling masks… At times, I wonder if I've stumbled into the gates of Yomi, where all manner of monsters dwell.]
[Regardless, I've survived three days. The creatures are most active at night, forcing me to hide. Daytime is slightly safer, but still perilous. I will document everything I've seen. My memory here is unreliable—perhaps this will help me endure.]
[1. Black, Amorphous Humanoids]
[These appear anywhere. They wander aimlessly or lurk in corners—behind doors, under beds, inside closets. They're cunning hunters. If not for my caution—hearing odd noises while searching rooms—I might've been caught.]
[No weapon harms them (learned this the hard way). The only option is flight. They're not fast and are hindered by doors/obstacles, so I've evaded them thus far.]
[2. Black Humanoids with Red Smiling Faces]
[Similar to the first, but more aggressive. Fewer in number. They mimic speech, luring you with voices from the dark, even whispering behind you. Some can swap heads—I saw a comrade lose his head, replaced by one of theirs. Chilling.]
[Also immune to weapons. Unlike the first, they cannot be outrun. But the man with the dog scares them off. Neither these nor the black creatures dare approach him. He must be special, but I dare not go near him—I watched a comrade turn into an Akita and get leashed. Whatever he is, he's not human.]
[3. Headless Students and Adults]
[Numerous, but elusive—sometimes nowhere, sometimes everywhere. Low threat if they don't wear monster heads or touch you. Avoid rooms where they cluster.]
[Gunfire repels but doesn't kill them. They repeat actions like sleepwalkers—e.g., gathering in the cafeteria at mealtimes. Some can see and chase you, but I haven't figured out how to tell which is which.]
[4. People with Thin-Lined Necks]
[At first, I mistook them for humans—especially those in military uniforms. They converse normally, believing themselves trapped like me. But their heads detach with a light tap, and they don't realize it. They'll casually walk behind you, trying to pluck your head off.]
~~[Gunfire kills them.]~~
[Gunfire doesn't kill them. They fall, seemingly dead, but rise again later—with no bullet wounds, not even torn clothing. Still, shooting them stops them temporarily (but only if their heads are still attached).]
[The ones in uniforms… could they be my comrades? This place terrifies me more each day. But such horrific weapons must be why we've already defeated America, ushering in a new era of prosperity. Yes, that must be it. The more monstrous these things, the prouder I should be!]
[5. A Normal-Looking Schoolgirl]
[. . . (A blank page with a few ink stains)]
[DO NOT LIE TO HER DO NOT LIE TO HER DO NOT LIE TO HER DO NOT— (Repeated frantically)]
Hachiya Chiyo?
Did this guy lie to her? And survived to write about it?
Why don't I get that treatment?
Wait—maybe he didn't survive. Better stay alert.
[6. A Black-Red Giant Monster]
[. . . (Several blank pages)]
This sixth entry—the one with no details—Takakai recognized.
The giant maw-flower Hachiya Chiyo could summon. The thing that had killed him multiple times.
This Japanese soldier had seen it and lived long enough to describe it.
That was… unexpected.
Flipping further, the entries grew eerily familiar.
[…I don't recall writing this. I feel like I've been here a long time, yet also just a day or two? My ammo should've run out by now, but no matter how much I use, there's always more.]
[This is my fifth-day entry, though my memory says it's only been two days max.]
[This is undeniably my handwriting, but I don't remember writing it. Still, it's helped me avoid dangers.]
[I've tried mapping this place, but the shifts seem random. Futile. (Sketches of vague floor plans follow)]
[This journal frightens me. I remember just separating from my squad, so why does this book contain days of entries in my own voice?]
[Did I write this?]
[Have I found this journal many times before?]
Caught in a loop?
To get stuck in one, you had to interact with the "black figures." But when it happened to me, my notes only carried over once. This guy preserved an entire notebook. Was it because he used an in-dungeon item? Or… something else?
[The pages are running out.]
[Whether this is real or not, I must choose my words carefully—for myself now, and myself later.]
As Takakai turned the pages, a chill crept up his spine—the sensation of being watched.
[The changes here are extreme, but compared to the journal's early entries, they seem to be stabilizing? Is this place settling into a pattern?]
[Am I stuck in a loop, or is the school itself looping?]
[The journal says I've run out of ammo repeatedly, yet I always have plenty.]
[Am I missing something?]
The further he read, the more he heard it—a muttering voice, as if talking to itself, or trying to converse with someone unseen.
[This rifle… it's my father's favorite, not my service weapon?]
[Have I been here forever? Have I always been here…?]
The voice grew clearer, whispering in Takakai's ear.
[I think… I understand now.]
A shuddering realization.
[I pulled my own head off.]
[Just grabbed the sides and… popped it right off.]
[So I'm one of them now. I'm dead. I've become a monster.]
A sigh.
Then—fingers brushed Takakai's shoulder, creeping toward his neck.
BANG!
A gunshot.
Something thudded against the wall.
Takakai stood, tossing the notebook aside, staring at the headless body now in the room—and the head rolling on the floor.
Of course.
The writer had died, become an anomaly, allowing his records to persist as part of the corruption.
A trap—but one Takakai wouldn't fall for again.
"Wha—?!"
Hayasaka jumped, startled by the sudden headless intruder.
"Time to go."
Takakai tossed her the rifle, then gestured for her to open the door.
The golden-haired maid, though confused, obeyed without question—gun in one hand, door flung open with the other.
Takakai stepped through, entering a school hallway.
Back in the school? Or another zone?
The headless soldier tried to pursue, but Takakai fired three suppression rounds, pinning it down as Hayasaka slipped out. He slammed the door shut, then nodded forward.
Move.
Before leaving, he noted the door's yellow marking.
Green doors = safe. Yellow doors = contain anomalies but are manageable if careful. That the rule?
He was starting to get it.
"Can you use this?"
Takakai kept his voice low as they hurried down the hall.
"Yes. I've trained with military, special forces, and hunting firearms. Proficiency in all."
Hayasaka's reply was calm, confident.
"Good. Then we'll—"
"Holy shit, are you a cheetah?! We don't have emergency glucose shots!"
Takakai's words died as he spotted a familiar figure ahead.
Kaguya.
Head tucked under one arm, body sprinting toward them.
[Takakai-kun! I found you!]
Her severed head smiled.
Her headless body moved faster now, charging like a lover rushing for an embrace.
…Did she ever chase me this relentlessly when she was alive?
The nearby doors bore red, purple, and yellow markings.
Behind them, the headless soldier was breaking through the door.
No time to hesitate.
Takakai grabbed the yellow-marked door, yanked it open, and pulled Hayasaka inside, slamming it shut.
This room was sterile, reeking of disinfectant.
White tiles.Harsh lighting. A metal table in the center, a drainage groove beside it.
And along one wall—rows of large metal cabinets.
A morgue.
Or dissection room.
THUD. THUD.
The knocking began.
Takakai took a step forward—
CLANG!
One of the metal cabinets shook violently, as if something inside was struggling to get out.