Miko could sense a change in the air.
When Takakai chose not to investigate the ruins of Fujika Middle School and instead dug deeper into the secrets of this building, something lurking in the shadows seemed to stir—as if enraged by his defiance. It was now moving, plotting.
Was it those three things I saw earlier?
Takakai-san said the documents might've been deliberately misleading… Were they the ones pulling the strings?
Did they want us to go to Fujika Middle School?
A chill ran down Miko's spine at the thought.
But compared to that distant threat, the immediate danger demanded more attention.
Whoosh—
A frigid wind howled as the sensation of falling—far more violent than jumping from the third floor—overwhelmed her.
Above, the things were gathering.
The once-lazy security guards, even the director who had been oblivious to their movements—now, as if alerted, they were all converging toward the elevator.
But they were too late.
After destroying the elevator floor, Takakai and the others had already leapt into the abyss, plunging into the darkness below.
"Ugh…"
Instinctive fear gripped Miko, and she clung tightly to the person beside her—Takakai, who had waited for her before jumping.
"Don't worry. We'll be fine."
His words were casual, but his gaze remained fixed on the darkness below.
Kumami and "Gotou #1" fell alongside them.
The four figures were swallowed by the void, hurtling toward an unknown destination.
Then came the noise—a meaningless, ear-splitting cacophony.
It was a chorus of dying screams, laced with agony and despair, threatening to shatter their minds.
Takakai gritted his teeth, enduring the mental assault with sheer willpower. Through his watch's shared-will function, he shielded Miko, taking on double the burden.
Kumami activated his self-repairing blessing, ensuring his mind could recover even if shattered.
As for the girls remotely controlling "Gotou #1," they had severed the connection, cutting off the mental attack—but now, they were blind to what was happening inside.
Bzzzt—
Amid the noise, fragmented visions flashed before Takakai's eyes.
Alice singing on stage.
Alice smiling at her fans.
Alice humming softly, cradling a blood-soaked doll.
["Come, everyone~ Let's all be Alice's friends!"]
The girl's delighted whisper echoed.
And in the spreading crimson, mutilated bodies lay still.
She was laughing.
Dressed in lavish gowns, twirling gracefully on stage, her voice enchanting thousands.
Even those who saw her true form remained devoted—like Fujii Hiroshi, willingly becoming her accomplice.
Red.
All Takakai could see was an endless, suffocating red.
Then Miko opened her eyes—and saw them too.
The buried things.
The hidden things.
Forgotten.
Sealed within this warped game, lost in an unreachable abyss.
It was a song.
A soft, dreamlike melody.
Alice—the idol beloved by millions—was singing.
But there was also silence.
A dead, hollow quiet.
A group of people… unmoved.
Her inhuman charm had failed to sway them.
No matter how beautiful her voice, they remained silent.
Why?
Alice seemed puzzled.
Miko strained her eyes, trying to see them clearly.
And then she did.
The silent ones.
A man in grimy work clothes. A middle-aged woman in a grease-stained apron. A child. A mother clutching a baby. A man with a vacant stare, wearing a wedding ring. An elderly woman with white hair.
Missing posters fluttered around them.
Father. Mother. Son. Daughter. Husband. Wife.
They were silent.
Yet they were asking.
Searching for their vanished loved ones.
And the trail led to her.
The national idol—Alice.
["Alice is kind and pure. She could never do anything wrong."]
["It must be your fault—for not loving her enough, for not accepting your family's devotion to her."]
["Yes, Alice is blameless. The only sinners are you. Love her. Become her friends. That is your only redemption."]
Fujii Hiroshi's voice was fervent, righteous.
["Preposterous! A star like Alice would never kidnap anyone! You're slandering her!"]
["If other fans are fine, why is it your family that disappeared? You must be the culprits!"]
["Rot in jail, you criminals! All you do is burden society!"]
The officers spat venom, their eyes filled with hatred.
["Hah? That's ridiculous! Impossible!"]
["Alice is the perfect idol. Everyone adores her. She'd never harm a soul."]
["Even if she did—so what? Is your family more important than Alice? Pfft. Honestly, you should be grateful. Not that she'd ever do such a thing, of course. Ahh… I wish I could be Alice's friend…"]
The reporter scoffed, later doxxing the silent ones in his article.
Why won't you love Alice?
Why do you accuse her?
Why can't you be her friends?
The world demanded answers.
Alice's fame grew. Wherever she appeared, crowds swarmed, entranced.
As if loving Alice had become society's universal truth.
Even the hesitant began to change, lured by her smile, forgetting their lost loved ones—forgetting how they vanished after meeting Alice.
Yet a handful resisted.
In a world of frenzy, they were insignificant. Unheard.
But Alice noticed.
["How strange… Why don't they like me?"]
She giggled, intrigued.
["Ungrateful trash. Let them wither. But… strong hatred can resist her charm? Is it because she's 'human' now? Hmph. We'll have to be more careful."]
Her fanatic head follower muttered, uneasy.
["…So it's her? She's real? What's going on…? Don't worry. I'll investigate. If she's guilty, I'll make sure justice is served."]
A final voice—calm, lucid—belonging to a man Miko couldn't quite see.
But she spotted the gun at his waist.
Polished. Gleaming black.
THUD.
Takakai landed first, rising steadily.
Miko, still dazed, was set down beside him.
Kumami and "Gotou #1" had made it too—though the latter remained offline, limp on the ground.
They stood on a stage.
Lavishly decorated. Meticulously maintained.
The red carpet was the color of blood.
And when Miko looked into the audience—
They were all there.
Seated, smiling.
Their skulls hollowed out, dripping.
Enraptured by the spotlight.
Umbilical cords writhed from the seats, weaving a living hell of flesh.
And their whispers—chanting, reverent—filled the air.
["Alice~"]