Time was accelerating.
The faint light seeping through the mostly boarded-up window shifted rapidly.
The room, once dimly lit, plunged deeper into darkness.
A damp, rotting stench—like decayed wood—spread through the air.
The wall clock taken from the hallway ticked forward uncontrollably.
6:00… 7:00… 8:00…
And now, creeping toward 9:00.
Takakai collapsed to the floor.
Bzzzz—
A piercing noise screamed in his skull. The world around him blurred into a dizzying haze.
He could see something.
The Black guy—who had seemed perfectly fine when they parted—now lay on the ground, eyes vacant, face smeared with blood. His hand, limp like a puppet's, clutched the clock's hour hand, forcing it forward.
Beside him stood Old Guo, expressionless, holding something that looked like a severed head, silently observing.
Click—
Click—CRACK—
The clock in the Black guy's hands splintered with fractures.
His body followed suit—splitting open, bleeding out.
Finally, the hand could turn no further.
All that remained was a mangled pile of flesh, unrecognizable as human.
"So forcing the hands brings a curse? Clockwise seems worse than counterclockwise."
"And even with coercion, it can't go past 9:00. That must be the limit."
"Good. Now we know its rules. Next step—finding 109."
Old Guo muttered to himself, voice hushed, as if afraid of being overheard.
Yet Takakai heard every word.
109?
Why does he want 109?
What's special about that room?
Bzzzz—
The noise swelled again. The vision twisted, dissolving into static.
Takakai expected to wake up—or die—or face something worse.
But then, his left hand erupted in agony.
Like a dull saw grinding through flesh, halfway through severing it.
He wanted to scream.
But he couldn't feel anything else.
As if his body had vanished.
Only the pain in his left hand remained.
Bzzzz—
The noise faded abruptly.
And then, a voice.
[I am Xusheng…]
Distorted, like a glitching tape from an old projector.
[Things have come to this…]
[I knew someone would try to change things… even irrationally…]
[I did my best. I gathered 18 survivors. We explored every room except 304. Left supplies, rules, tried to help those trapped here.]
[At our peak, we had 26 people. Almost every room was filled.]
[But destruction is easier than creation. Just one person's actions… a few followers… and everything collapsed.]
[I have no regrets. I never harmed anyone. From the moment I was trapped here, I only ever tried to save others. I chose this path. I can rest in peace.]
The voice was calm—eerily calm, like a casual conversation between friends on a sunny afternoon.
[But for those who might come after… I'll leave something behind.]
[Before I disappear, I've altered each room's layout.]
[Lock the front door. Close the living room door. Wear earplugs. If needed, a mask to block snoring. Do this, and you'll survive the night—but only if you stay in the room you first woke in. Otherwise, it's luck.]
[If you're hearing this, you've touched the clock. And you're strong-willed. Maybe you can do something—if not for others, then for yourself.]
[Go to 206. Descend through the hole in the floor. It's the only way to reach the 1st floor normally. Don't take the stairs—they only lead to the 3rd floor.]
[109 holds all the records. Find it, and you'll understand what happened here.]
[After that… the choice is yours.]
The last words felt whispered directly into his ear.
Takakai's eyes snapped open.
The clock read 8:50.
Outside, the sky had darkened completely. The living room was pitch-black, save for the faint glow of Kaguya's lighter.
In that dim light, Takakai saw Maki crouched on the floor, clutching her head—and shadowy hands reaching from the darkness around her, as if trying to drag her away.
"Hey—!"
His mind still buzzed with residual noise.
His body, stiff, finally regained movement.
He hesitated for less than a second—act or stay?
Then he lunged for Maki.
Not for her—but for the backpack on her shoulders, holding two wall clocks.
Maki, dazed, didn't resist as he yanked it off.
Without hesitation, Takakai hurled it toward Kaguya.
I'm sorry.
If Maki's condition was supernatural, she was likely beyond saving. But the clocks—the ones that could reverse time—were their only lifeline.
Then—cold fingers closed around him.
The shadowy hands seized him too.
"Turn the cloc—"
Before he could finish, darkness swallowed him and Maki whole.
A child's laughter echoed faintly in his ears.
THUD!
He hit the ground hard—then gasped as Maki's petite frame slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.
"Ghk—! What the hell…?!"
Helping Maki up, he ignored the warmth of her body against his and scanned their surroundings.
A small, cozy room, lit by a cute desk lamp.
This wasn't 208.
The layout was similar, but this place was clearly different—decorated like a girl's room, with cheerful stickers, a pink-and-blue fairy-tale bed, and sheer curtains over the window (though no light came through now).
"Ugh… My head… Feels like I went shopping with Nagisa and Tsubasa for three days straight… Every part of me is exhausted… Huh? Where…?"
Maki groaned, rubbing her temples as she took in the room.
"Wherever it is, it's definitely not good," Takakai said dryly, forcing a grin despite his unease. At least nothing's attacking us yet.
Old Guo's out of pawns now that the Black guy's dead. Kaguya's still there with four people—any one of them can turn back the clock. They'll reset everything, and we'll have another shot.
Kaguya's smart. She'll act immediately.
So he waited.
Maki, understanding, nodded and waited too.
1001… 1002… 1003…
Takakai counted the seconds.
1598… 1599… 1600…
Ten minutes passed.
No reset.
No way.
Twenty minutes.
Still nothing.
No noise. No anomalies.
Just the silent, unchanging gloom of this unfamiliar room—and the two of them, trapped inside.