Splash—
Cupping her hands under the faucet, Yotsuya Miko splashed cold water on her face.
Letting out a long breath, she raised her head to stare at her reflection—eyes shadowed with unease.
It was currently after lunch, what should have been "nap time" according to the schedule. Of course, Miko hadn't actually read the rules. Who would approach a notice dripping fresh blood?
But her classmates might not share her perspective. Some had likely already seen that "rule list" and been corrupted—either killed or turned into the aberrations' pawns.
Wait… why do Iknowthat thing was a rule list? And those horrors… called"aberrations"? Did Mr. Takakai tell me that? Why does it feel sonaturalto think of them that way?
Miko's frown deepened.
A persistent haziness clouded her mind.
It felt like she hadn't just been dragged here by that pale severed hand on the street—but like she'd been struggling to survive in this place for much longer.
Like her journey hadn't started here at all, but in another equally terrifying location—a school pristine under lights yet decayed in darkness, filled with twisted student aberrations and animal-masked teacher monsters, all under the watch of something far worse lurking in the shadows.
Its name… was it Alice?
The moment the name surfaced, Miko froze—then began shaking uncontrollably.
Even without fully recalling past loops, the sheer terror that name invoked made her nauseous.
But she had to remember.
No more running. Ineedthese memories.
"This isn't the beginning… not really…"
Miko whispered, steadying her breathing.
Yes, she was certain now.
This story hadn't started here.
Someone had changed what was meant to happen.
Altered a predetermined outcome.
Only through that person's desperate battles had this new "present" been forged.
Was that person… Mr. Takakai?
Of course. Ithadto be him.
I think I've seen him die before.
Seenmyselfkill him, rip out his organs, drain him with a machine… seen a stranger shoot him dead…
These feel like hallucinations, yet toovividto be false…
No—they were real.
But that wasn't me.
That was Alice.
It was coming back now.
She was the one Alice had chosen—a vessel just like her.
Both possessed eyes that could see, a curse-like perception of horrors invisible to others. That made Miko the perfect—only—candidate. Only by possessing her could Alice escape the dungeon, shed her aberration nature, regain her…
Huh? These memories… don't feel likemine.
I think I understand now why Alice fixated on Mr. Takakai, why she kept trying to make him her"friend."
The scent of blessings…
Gifts left behind by unquiet spirits finally laid to rest.
Alice could sense Takakai's blessings.
To her, those who bore such gifts—who brought peace to the dead—held special meaning. She longed to make them her "friends"… in her own twisted way.
Beyond this, Miko's recall grew fuzzy.
Her memories were veiled, impressions half-formed.
But one thing was clear:
Mr. Takakai could reset time.
That was how he'd fought Alice again and again, turning a hopeless battle into this current struggle.
This unfamiliar place—this psychiatric ward—was the new frontier his sacrifices had unlocked.
Alice herself isn't active here… but her influence iseverywhere.
The orderlies and patients were no better than brainwashed cultists, utterly devoted to her.
They wouldn't just leave us be.
I need to escape.
No—acting alone might backfire. Leave the expert work to the expert. If Mr. Takakai said tolay low, I'll observe first.
Splash—
As she rinsed her face again, another disjointed memory surfaced.
Though unsure why she alone recalled the time resets, Miko now vaguely remembered a strange red place—
—where she lay immobile, surrounded by crimson hues, screams, and crackling flames.
Then…
Someone poked my cheek.
Mr. Takakai?
Whatwasthat place?
Shaking off the thought, Miko dried her face and looked up—
—into the mirror's reflection of twisted figures behind her.
They were barely human anymore—faces distorted, bodies like stitched-together meat.
[Is this the one?]
One figure spoke, voice grating.
*[No mistake. Same type as Subject 2. Pity—this specimen will go to them. If I could leaveTakamagahara, I'd craft anew Subject 2from her. No—somethingbetter.]
Another figure—eyes bulging grotesquely—studied Miko like a dissection project.
*[Regardless, Fujika's surface layer is broken. We can't see who did it, but it's our chance. After years exiled from reality, it's time to return. Say, Sato… does she seem to belooking at us?]
A third figure leaned closer, rotting hands reaching for Miko's head, a dangling eyeball rolling to inspect her.
"..."
Miko stayed silent, calmly drying her face before turning away.
The bathroom was empty.
Yet the voices continued:
[Impossible. Takamagahara transcends all perception. No one sees us.]
[Heh, unless she's better than Subject 2. This lumber might be top-grade. But her reaction suggests otherwise. Such talent can't exist—we exhausted all resources finding Subject 2.]
[Enough chatter. We must escape. Years more here, and we'll become aberrations. Damn that brat at Yoruyama—she chose to stay instead of fleeing, even after I left her some will. But Fujika has twenty-plus specimens now. I'll pick a healthier one this time.]
The entities seemed confined to mirror observation, their presence fading once Miko left the bathroom.
But what were they?
Not quite aberrations, yet not human either—something in between.
Like Alice? No, their humanity felt more intact than hers. And… weaker? Yet their words chilled Miko deeper than any aberration's howls.
Mr. Takakaimustknow about them!
Just as she resolved to act—
A terrifying presence suddenly engulfed the hospital.
BOOM—!!!
The floor quaked violently, sending Miko crashing down as cracks spiderwebbed through walls and floors. Outside her room, something colossal was happening.