[Aspirant. Welcome to the Nightmare ???ll. Prepare for your First Trial...]
After the dead of Luna and Luzi "ll" had appeared in the system... It was really easy for Ayanokouji to know where this all was going.
Disappointment.
Disappointment defined everything Ayanokouji felt in that moment.
A quiet, settled clarity remained.
For all his abilities and instinctual skill for survival, things would have been far easier with a teammate like Shirou.
He waited for the pain to surge, but it was a manageable sting.
He let out a slow breath and looked at Shirou.
But then his eyes narrowed.
Shirou's face showed deep, sorrowful pain. A truth he had uncovered or something he hadn't yet said.
Ayanokouji's own gaze remained cold and blank. If there was a path forward, he had to make three disappear. If survival meant stepping over Shirou's corpse, so be it.
He asked quietly.
"When did Luna and Luzi die?"
Shirou responded after a beat.
"It was when we were trying to come here. We ran through the forest… Luna and Luzi were parkouring through the trees. That's when Luna slipped, and Luzi went to help her."
He went quiet.
What came next was obvious.
This wasn't the time to mourn. Something worse could be approaching at any moment.
Ayanokouji continued.
"Why were you making your way here?"
"This isn't the only safe spot," Shirou said. "There are ruined villages all across the forest. We're going through every one of them, trying to find clues."
Logical.
If the Vowalkers couldn't enter, something stayed hidden deep within these structures.
Ayanokouji asked another question, voice flat.
"So how long are we going to stay here?"
Shirou gave a weak smile, though his eyes still showed pain.
"There's a pattern. Depends on the number of houses. If it's a small village, like ten houses, the time limit is seventy minutes. When that time passes, the entire village crumbles into dust. The Vowalkers go into a frenzy."
If ten houses equaled seventy minutes, then each house granted roughly seven minutes.
Ayanokouji processed it instantly.
"So the village collapses all at once?"
Shirou nodded.
"We're hopping from village to village, hoping one of them leads somewhere."
How many had Shirou already passed through?
How much more did he know?
Ayanokouji couldn't help but ask.
"Your Nightmare began in this forest?"
Shirou nodded again.
That changed things.
Ayanokouji's gaze hardened. If Shirou had survived from the start here, he knew the terrain and rules better than Ayanokouji did. That made him dangerous.
Before either of them could say more, someone approached.
Perla.
She stepped into the doorway, eyes dull and voice heavy with grief.
She glanced between them. Shirou looked cautious.
But Ayanokouji unsettled her deeply. He was still. The air around him felt wrong.
"There are thirty houses in this village," she said.
Then she turned and left without waiting for a response.
Shirou and Ayanokouji looked at each other.
They didn't speak.
Three and a half hours remained before this place collapsed.
Then Shirou asked something direct.
"How many Vowalkers have you killed, Ayanokouji? And how much information do you have about them?"
There was a pause before he replied.
"Two. That I killed, few wore killed indirectly I have some proven theories, and some still being tested."
It was the truth.
Most of the Vowalkers he had faced were outmaneuvered. Only two had fallen by his own hands.
Shirou waited for more.
Ayanokouji continued.
"I don't need to explain their abilities. You've probably figured it out from the name. Vowalker. Beings bound by vows. The more water they absorb, the slower they get, but they become tougher too. That's the most relevant information for surviving in this forest."
He had given away the basics. Nothing more.
Now it was Shirou's turn.
>>>
The theories matched. It was obvious that Shirou was holding some truths back as well.
Ayanokouji took a few steps toward the door. Just before leaving, he said,
"Let me talk to the others. Try to fix things between us. Malice in a team only lowers our chances of survival."
He turned and started walking out.
But his face had changed.
His eyes were darker now, filled with quiet disappointment.
Shirou stayed behind, face unchanged, but something in him had shifted too.
There was pain in his eyes.
And knowledge.
He knew something.
A secret that shouldn't be known. The kind of truth that warps everything it touches.
Shirou grabbed Ayanokouji's hand... And soon left it.
Shirou sighed painfully.
Ayanokouji looked back once, and left.
***
The air outside was thicker now with the creeping pressure of time. The village was quiet.
Ayanokouji stepped out of the decaying house, his eyes scanning the broken horizon.
Warped skeletons of huts slouched under a cloud-choked sky. Vines spilled over rooftops, and moss pulsed faintly across cracked stone.
Perla stood by a moss-cloaked well, both hands resting against its rim, staring down into the inky black. Her posture was resignation.
He approached silently.
She didn't turn. But her fingers curled against the stone, blanching white.
"I'm sorry," Ayanokouji said. "For choking you. For using you as a hostage."
Her eyes remained downcast.
"We're in a nightmare," she replied quietly. "What you did was the logical choice."
He looked down at her feet. Still no imprint. The mud didn't recognize her. Her presence didn't ripple in the world.
"I heard about your friends."
Her breath hitched, just slightly.
"They mistook the Nightmare for a dream," she murmured. "It was coming."
Ayanokouji's gaze sharpened.
Dream?
"I can't see your footsteps."
She said something, he couldn't hear it. The sound was just missing.
"I heard none of that," he said flatly.
She frowned, but didn't argue. Instead, she stepped away from the well and turned toward the edge of the village.
Then, without warning, she crouched low and sprang up onto the nearest tree branch. Her feet landed with perfect traction.
Ayanokouji said.
"You might attract Vowalkers if you keep standing there,"
She extended her hand.
"I'm showing you my ability."
Ayanokouji paused. Her hand was steady. No fear in her expression. Just determination. If her ability required touch, this could be a trap. Still, if he wanted to understand her, he had no choice but to take the risk.
He stepped forward and took her hand.
Her grip was cool and dry. No jolt or burning sensation occurred. Just an immediate shift.
The air felt different.
Ayanokouji paid attention to her face, looking for any micro-reactions. She gave none.
She wasn't naive. It was gonna be a tough nightmare then.
"You'll understand when we run," she said. "Focus on your footing."
And then she moved.
Fast.
She yanked him off the ground and launched herself from one branch to the next with graceful brutality. With his hand in hers, Ayanokouji felt it. The forest didn't resist him. The bark beneath his feet gave grip. The branches curved in rhythm with his steps.
Only while holding her.
To test, Ayanokouji loosened his grip even slightly. Gravity returned. The bark became slick. The wind fought him. The world rejected his presence.
Perla's ability was acceptance. The forest embraced her. She had synced with its cadence, and through contact, Ayanokouji received a temporary passport.
But that passport came with a countdown.
They moved through the trees like shadows split in two. Perla's shoulders leaned forward with each leap, her spine arched low to absorb impact. Every limb stayed tucked in tight.
Her knees bent enough to bounce; her hands clutched bark like an animal born for this.
Ayanokouji matched her, step for step.
Despite using an unfamiliar ability, his posture remained composed. No wasted motion occurred. His knees lifted precisely before pushing off into another arc. He learned her rhythm within seconds.
When she twisted mid-air to redirect their momentum off a sideways trunk, he adjusted a breath ahead of her.
She noticed.
"You're adapting fast," she muttered, breathless.
He didn't reply. He was calculating.
That was when the forest screamed.
A snapping branch. A low, crackling hiss. Then dozens of wet footfalls echoed behind them.
Vowalkers.
A blur of pale limbs burst through the canopy. Their gait was unnatural. They ran low, their arms skimming the forest floor. Their eyes were empty, but locked on.
Perla had a cold smile on her face.
"Take the lead."
Ayanokouji understanding what she meant.
"Of course," Answered coldly.
They adjusted course immediately.
Perla pulled left toward a high arching root, but Ayanokouji's grip redirected her up, not sideways. He'd spotted a lattice of vines forming a pseudo-bridge overhead, invisible from below. They vaulted toward it, landing low and scrambling up.
Below them, the Vowalkers scrambled after, feet slamming into roots and tearing bark apart. One of them leapt and struck the tree they'd just left.
A dull crack shook the canopy. The trunk bent unnaturally, bark splintering. But they kept running.
Ayanokouji angled right. "Switch lanes."
Perla obeyed without hesitation, springing diagonally to a hanging branch three meters away.
Ayanokouji followed close, releasing her hand for just a moment mid-air and nearly missed his grip.
The forest hated him again.
He caught her wrist at the last second. Instant stability. Bark gripped his soles again.
Perla almost laughed. "Stop experimenting."
Ayanokouji glanced at her, She had good deductive ability and manipulation too.
They surged forward.
More Vowalkers began scaling trees behind them. The forest groaned under their collective weight. Branches cracked. Leaves exploded in bursts of decaying scent. One creature lunged overhead, but Ayanokouji ducked, dragging Perla low in a twisting arc that dodged the blow by centimeters.
Another Vowalker followed from the right, running sideways along a curving branch, its fingers clinging to the wood like knives.
Ayanokouji's eyes flicked to the base of the branch.
"Now."
They launched upward and the Vowalker fell, the limb snapping under its own weight.
Every lane they crossed was disintegrating. The Nightmare's forest responded to pursuit. The deeper they ran, the more the terrain betrayed its age. Bark peeled in wet ribbons, vines recoiled from weight, branches shuddered.
Perla's breath was becoming uneven now.
Her legs pumped with restraint, unable to keep up with Ayanokouji. Her shoulders trembled each time she landed. Still she didn't stop. Didn't slow.
Ayanokouji was eerily still.
Even mid-leap, his body stayed relaxed. Eyes scanning, mind calculating.
They cleared one last ridge, leapt across a muddy ravine, and broke free of the tree line.
The village loomed ahead. Crumbling rooftops. Tilted walls. Safety, for now.
Perla landed on the ground gracefully, but her entire face was sweating. Ayanokouji could even feel it in his hand.
Ayanokouji landed beside her like a shadow falling into place.
No sweat. No disruption in his breathing.
He straightened, released her hand, it was sweaty.
Perla looked at him. A cold precision in her eyes.
"No wonder shirou was so cautious."
𓁹𓁹
I had to play into her hands.
She wasn't standing by that well by accident. She had predicted my next move. She understood that after what I'd done, I would try to re-establish trust. I'd attempt to stabilize the group, become a team member.
So she made sure I found her first.
It was a calculated trap. And it worked.
She'd seen Shirou act with caution. That alone must have shocked her. Someone like him showing hesitation only around me? That seeded doubt. And doubt turned to curiosity.
Even after I held her hostage... even after she watched her friends die... she didn't break.
That told me more than words ever could. Her reform was structural. She rebuilt her logic. Recalibrated her direction. Her words at the well were cool, methodical, and strategic.
When she realized I couldn't hear the names or abilities, she shifted.
She wanted to test me physically.
She jumped up a tree and extended her hand. That wasn't a request. It was coercion dressed in civility. "Grab my hand if you want to win my trust." That's what her body language said.
It was a dare. A command wrapped in fragile politeness.
And I took it.
She could have used the ruined houses for the test, safer and confined.
She chose the forest.
She knew the risks. The Vowalkers. The unstable terrain. But she did it anyway. To gamble with her life and see how I responded.
She led. Took deliberately wrong turns. Changed elevation erratically. Purposefully created gaps where she thought I'd have to improvise.
She was studying my stride. My breathing. How I measured distance. When I broke pace. If I hesitated.
She was testing me.
She read how i loosened the grasp at times... Trying to study her ability.
She wasn't just testing my reflexes. She was trying to understand why Shirou was cautious.
To see what I looked like in motion. In pressure.
To see the machine under the mask.
That makes her dangerous.
She isn't naive. She isn't weak. She uses logic like a scalpel.
And worse?
She knows how to make you hold the blade yourself.
But..
"No wonder you are the only one alive."
We basically traded understanding of each other just now.
She didn't respond with words immediately.
Just a flicker of acknowledgment in her eyes. Cool, narrowed, and probing. She was still running calculations in her head, waiting to find weakness.
There was none.
She tilted her head slightly, almost imperceptibly.
"You don't waste time with flattery," she finally said. "That helps."
I didn't bother replying.
Words weren't going to change anything now. Not after what we'd just traded.
I looked out over the silent village, letting the quiet settle.
Then I asked what mattered.
"Where's the third?"
Her eyes moved, not her body. A slow glance toward a partially collapsed storage shed near the edge of the village. Its walls leaning inward, one corner eaten away by mold and time.
The structure sat slightly lower than the other houses, tucked beside a run-off ditch where the earth had eroded into a shallow basin. The water there had long since dried, but the mud hadn't forgotten it.
"There," she said simply.
Still no name. Still no tone.
I nodded once.
"Still angry?" I asked.
She didn't answer immediately. Her gaze stayed on the shed, her voice muted when it finally came.
"He hasn't said much since you arrived. But I don't think that means peace."
I already knew that.
"You'll need to approach carefully," she added.
I shifted. Weight distributed, shoulder slackened, heartbeat stable. The rhythm of dialogue shed like loose cloth. The silence I walked into now was human.
She didn't stop me.
She didn't need to.
She had taken my measure already.
Now she wanted to see what I'd do with it.
Just before I turned, she gave me one last reminder.
"You passed my test. That doesn't mean he'll let you take his."
The air thickened as I crossed the overgrown path. The ground sloped slightly and became soft underfoot, packed with decomposing leaves, bent nails, splinters, and broken roof tile. The bent tin door of the shed swayed faintly on a single hinge. No breeze moved it. Just motion.
I stepped closer, careful not to press too fast.
This was no longer a ruined storage space.
I was walking into his corner of the world.
He might try to break mine before I even stepped through the threshold.
***
The bent door creaked faintly as I neared it, sounding like a bone too old to hold weight.
I didn't reach for it or knock.
I stopped and let the silence fill the gaps between us with pressure.
I could feel him inside.
That quiet came from rage starved of oxygen and compressed over time.
My breath was slow and shallow for calibration.
The shed was small with one entrance and no visible windows. I marked the weak points in the walls behind the shelf and through the rotted floorboards. If he tried to trap me, I had escape options. If he tried to run, I could funnel him back toward me.
He wouldn't run.
There was no sound, no shifting of weight, and no breath being drawn.
Still, I knew he was inside, watching and waiting.
His presence felt heavy with intention.
He was a knife turned inward for years that had grown roots.
He hadn't moved once. Everything around him, from splintered crates to twisted tools, belonged to that stillness.
His silence was deliberate.
It was a verdict.
A layer of old sawdust coated the floor beyond the doorframe, untouched.
He hadn't paced or walked in circles. He had simply sat there.
That told me everything I needed.
He was waiting for me.
𓁹𓁹
Ayanokouji stepped inside.
The loose plank creaked loudly for a structure so dead. The sound cut through the air. The building seemed to have been holding its breath for him.
The air inside was heavy, walking into solid grief. Dust hovered midair, untouched by time.
Across the room, the boy sat in a hunched sprawl within a blotch of shadow.
He had a lanky frame and a spine curved inward. His limbs drooped like marionette strings cut halfway.
His face was lowered.
His brown, matted hair clung to his cheeks. It was forgotten.
He didn't stir or shift when Ayanokouji stepped closer.
Only when Ayanokouji stopped walking did the boy's lips move. His voice was more breath than tone.
"You took your time."
Ayanokouji had expected fury after hearing Shirou and Perla speak.
Instead, he found detachment.
That voice carried no pain or bitterness. It was hollow and crumbling.
"You wanted to fix it all," the boy muttered flatly. "So we don't backstab you. Right?"
There was no sarcasm, malice, or emotion.
It was an echo of a sentence whispered in empty rooms a thousand times.
Ayanokouji remained still, waiting for the boy to finish so they could move forward.
This could not be resolved through speech.
The boy's head lifted and Ayanokouji froze.
The eyes staring back were voids.
They showed an absence of everything. This was nothingness.
There was no light, sadness, or hate in them.
No memory of being alive remained.
Ayanokouji missed a beat as something twisted in his stomach. Sweat pricked the back of his neck.
He knew who the boy was.
He had seen this boy before in a photo on a desk.
In that photograph, life existed.
Now, only an outline remained.
"You think the system only wronged you?" the boy whispered. "My entire life has been destroyed by it."
Ayanokouji knew where this was going.
The weight was building in the boy's chest, and Ayanokouji could not stop it.
He didn't even want to.
"I used to think effort mattered," the boy continued. "That trying hard enough might balance things out. That people would be okay if you were good enough at surviving."
His lips twitched.
The gesture died before it could become a smile.
"Turns out surviving means you have to carry more."
The boy exhaled and his shoulders trembled from the fatigue of holding himself up.
The walls felt closer. The building seemed to lean in to hear this confession.
There were no names.
The weight in the boy's voice belonged to a life disassembled piece by piece.
His voice grew staggered as his vocal cords gave up.
"You knew what would happen if you leave."
Ayanokouji stood there while he let it all out.
The boy's hand clutched his own throat in memory. Tears rolled down his cheeks from experience.
"I waited. I hoped. I prayed."
His voice broke again.
"You knew that if you leave, we'll be crushed."
Ayanokouji didn't argue, defend, or deny.
Beneath his logic and calculations, he had known something would happen to Matsuo.
He had known even then.
The boy leaned forward with knuckles pale and shaking.
"People warn you about monsters, ghosts, and demons," he whispered.
He looked down at his thin, scarred hands.
"No one tells you that monsters sit in silence. They live in rooms like this, inside memories, and inside waiting."
His voice trembled.
"Inside you."
He sucked in a breath that didn't reach his lungs.
"I thought it was my fault. That working harder could have saved him."
His voice collapsed.
"But then I realized—"
He looked up and something flickered.
It was a grief that had loved something and watched it die.
"Sometimes someone else makes the decision for you," his voice cracked. "And you're left to live with it while they enjoy."
He didn't stop there.
His gaze softened.
"After rigorous studying, I was finally accepted into a prestigious school."
A pause followed.
He gave a broken smile laced with the taste of dreams.
"I had plans."
He laughed painfully.
"I wanted to give him rest. A small house. A quiet garden. I wanted him to stop serving anyone."
His mouth opened to say more, but only air came out.
"One day, he came home and wouldn't open the door."
The light in the room dimmed.
Ayanokouji's heart slowed down.
"I stood outside knocking. I begged and cried for hours."
The boy covered his face, trembling.
"Then I found out he was fired."
His hands dropped and his eyes locked onto Ayanokouji.
"Say something. Ayanokouji."
He exhaled shakily.
"He had me late in life and was already old when I was twelve. I went to school and worked cafe shifts in the evening and convenience stores at night. I came home with bruises just to feed him."
His empty smile returned.
"But I was expelled. No reason."
He covered his ears tightly to muffle the memory.
"I didn't give up."
He screamed.
"I enrolled in local schools one after another and was expelled each time."
He clawed at his hair, letting strands fall to the floor.
"The only way to give him peace was gone. I worked three part-time jobs every day."
He laughed sharply. Blood stained his teeth red.
"I checked at night to see if he ate or moved. I only heard him begging for forgiveness from behind that locked door."
The boy froze.
His body went still while the tears continued.
"Then one day he burned—"
He couldn't finish the word.
His mouth trembled as the breath caught halfway.
Matsuo had burned himself alive to get Professor Ayanokouji to forgive his son, Eichiro.
"I found his phone."
His voice shrank.
"He was in a—"
Silence followed.
Ayanokouji knew.
"My neighbors told me he had been screaming. Forgive my son. Forgive my son."
He fell forward with hands curled inwards.
"I called the police and the ambulance. I told everyone what happened. They beat me and told me to shut my mouth if I wanted to live."
He staggered upright like a puppet on strings.
He stumbled toward Ayanokouji and grabbed him.
He gripped Ayanokouji's shoulders while shaking.
"I told the media. I got more beatings and threats."
He lifted his chin.
The rope scar etched deep into his neck revealed the mark of someone who had died.
"I couldn't live in a world without my father. I couldn't give him justice. So I ended my own life."
Ayanokouji looked at him.
The boy looked up with blood on his chin.
"I thought I'd meet him again. I thought we would be together in the afterlife."
His face twisted.
"But the afterlife didn't exist for me. I was thrown here to be another page in your story."
He screamed while blood erupted from his mouth.
"WE SUFFERED BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO PLAY HUMAN FOR THREE YEARS."
He dropped to his knees.
"Your three years of freedom cost me my father who nurtured me for twelve years."