Edano struggled to believe what he had just heard.
He, who had long since given up on me, felt a familiar tension knot in his chest. My voice had reappeared, clear and calm, as if nothing had ever broken between us.
It was clear. Too clear to be a figment of his imagination.
And above all, it left no room for doubt as to the existence of a plan.
He clenched his teeth slightly as my words still echoed in his mind. I had promised him explanations. Later. Every detail, every choice, every detour. But not now. For the moment, I needed him. I needed his lucidity.
The group continued onward, absorbed by the prospect of the next puzzle. Shun's intervention already seemed to have dissolved into the collective march, relegated to the ranks of unimportant words.
Edano then slowed his pace slightly.
He turned his head toward the young boy, still absorbed in the black screen of his phone, as if he were still waiting for a sign, an answer from somewhere else. His gait was nonchalant, almost out of place in this anxiety-inducing setting.
Edano spoke up.
"Tell me..." he began, his voice deliberately calm. "Do you really think this is all like a game?"
Shun finally looked up from his screen. For a moment, his gaze seemed to float, as if he were returning from far away. Then he shrugged slightly.
"It's the only way I can make sense of it," he replied. "Rules, puzzles, objectives... If I start thinking it's not a game, then I don't know how to move forward."
Edano remained silent.
The boy's words resonated strangely true. Too true, even.
He then understood that, for some, viewing this world as a game was not carelessness.
It was a survival mechanism.
Shun remained silent for a few seconds, as if weighing his own words. Then, against all odds, he went back on what he had just said.
"Actually..." he murmured, staring straight ahead. "I've always dreamed of the world becoming like this. A kind of survival game. Challenges, clear rules. People who have to move forward or disappear."
Edano frowned slightly, but didn't interrupt him.
Shun continued, his voice gaining confidence with each sentence.
"I didn't have many friends at school. It's not that I was rejected... more that I was invisible. People didn't really pay attention to me."
He smiled slightly, without bitterness.
"But despite that, I liked them. And if this world really becomes dangerous, then I'll do everything I can to help them." "
He finally lowered his eyes to his hands, tattooed with numbers, as if they confirmed his words.
"In this kind of situation... I feel like I belong. I know how to think quickly and adapt. At least... I believe I do. Maybe I'm wrong, but I'd rather think I'm strong than remain paralyzed."
Edano looked at him for a long time. There was no complaint or demand in the boy's words. Only a kind of raw, almost serene acceptance of what was happening to them.
He finally replied, in a softer tone than he would have expected.
"If that's how you cope with all this, then don't be ashamed of it. "
He paused briefly.
"As long as it allows you to move forward without crushing others, continue on this path."
Shun simply nodded, as if that answer was enough for him.
He put his phone back in his pocket and resumed walking straight ahead without looking back.
Sae, who had been listening to the conversation from a distance without being noticed, finally approached Edano. Her step was light, almost hesitant, as if she were afraid of interrupting something that didn't belong to her.
"Tell me..." she began softly. "Why are you so interested in this boy? It's not really in your nature to get attached to others."
Edano remained silent for a moment. He just stared at the horizon, without answering her immediately.
And she was right. It wasn't in Edano's nature.
But as I watched them from my spotlight, my suspicions were gradually confirmed. Thanks to this exchange, everything finally fell into place.
Shun was suffering from chuunibyou syndrome.
That almost visceral need to believe he was special. To be the protagonist of an invisible story. The one around whom everything revolved, the one who possessed a superior understanding of the world. In his mind, this apocalypse wasn't just a disaster... it was an invitation.
He wanted to go on an adventure in a world of survival, face trials, make crucial decisions. To be the charismatic leader who guides his friends to victory, just like in the games and stories he had consumed so much.
But reality was much crueler.
The adults were there. Strong, overwhelming personalities, shaped by years of experience, compromise, and fear. As long as they remained alive, Shun could never occupy the place he fantasized about. He would remain on the sidelines, a frustrated spectator of a role he believed was rightfully his.
I began to think that Shun was more like me than I wanted to admit.
However, where I was content to observe, analyze, and stay in the background, he wanted to take action. Shun aspired to be at the center of the story, to become a full-fledged actor in it. For my part, I preferred to stay in the shadows, scrutinizing every detail, waiting for the right moment.
So I decided to stick to my original plan.
Soon, everything would become clearer.
Around me, voices began to rise, overlapping in an increasingly confused hubbub.
"We shouldn't listen to the words of this reckless child," someone suddenly declared in a sharp tone. "It's people like Kaisho or Ishikawa we should follow."
"Yes, that's right," added another voice. "They've proven that we can count on them."
But this attempt at consensus did not last long.
"You're forgetting one detail," someone interjected bitterly. "Ishikawa has already betrayed us. He chose to stay with Bun and his companions."
I felt several eyes turn in the direction of my group of allies.
"Besides..." continued the same person, scanning my group. "Do you know where Bun is now?"
The silence that followed was heavy.
Almost oppressive.
I stood still, observing the faces. Some expressed fear, others anger, and still others a strange sense of relief at being able to blame someone else.
It was unsettling.
Strangely, I had the impression that everyone was trying to agree on one specific point: appointing a leader. As if choosing a figurehead could ease their anxiety and give them some semblance of control over the growing chaos.
I asked myself the question for the first time with such seriousness.
Choosing a leader...
Was it a trivial detail, or a key factor that I absolutely had to take into account going forward?
"In any case, this Bun won't bother us anymore," Kaisho declared in a confident, almost relieved tone.
His words fell like a sentence. Some nodded, others looked away, but no one bothered to contradict him. The mere mention of my name already seemed to belong to the past, as if removing me from the equation made the situation easier to bear.
Kaisho continued, his voice filled with a confidence he wanted to be contagious.
"We will succeed in solving the next puzzle, I am sure of it. And after that... everything will go back to normal. We will go home. "
These words, fragile as they were, acted as a temporary balm. The idea of a return to normality, even if illusory, was enough to silence doubts. No one pointed out the cruel obvious: nothing so far had ever suggested that a return was possible.
The group resumed their march.
The atmosphere around them gradually changed. The air seemed heavier, almost frozen, as if space itself refused to let them move forward. Then, without warning, the scenery opened up before them, revealing a new area, different from the previous ones, but just as disturbing.
At the same moment, the electronic sound rang out in unison in their minds.
A blue notification window opened in front of each of them, its luminous characters floating in the void, announcing bluntly that they had just entered the area of the fourth puzzle.
The childish voice rang out again, clear and carefree, cutting through the murmurs that were beginning to rise.
"The fourth puzzle is about to begin."
An immediate silence fell over the group. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
"However," the voice continued with an almost cruel lightness, "before receiving the explanation, you must make a choice."
Before us, space slowly distorted. Three symbols appeared, floating in the air like solidified mirages.
The first kingdom was called Oda.
It was represented by a holographic sword, long and thin, its translucent blade vibrating gently, as if animated by a will of its own. Its mere presence evoked conquest, brute force, blood spilled without hesitation.
The second kingdom was called Tokugawa.
Before it floated a magatama, polished and luminous, exuding a calmer, almost solemn aura. It inspired strategy, patience, order imposed on chaos.
Finally, the third kingdom was called Hojo.
Its symbol was a mirror, perfectly smooth, reflecting our faces distorted depending on the angle from which we looked at it. It was impossible to know whether it showed the truth... or whether it concealed it.
No further explanation was given to us. No clues. No warnings.
The childish voice simply added, as if talking about an unimportant detail:
"Choose one of the three kingdoms. The first members to join each of them will play a decisive role."
These words were enough to create a deep sense of unease.
It was then that Ishikawa took the lead, stepping slightly in front of the group. His gaze swept over the survivors one by one, as if to make sure that everyone was really listening to him.
"This time, we must not act rashly," he said in a firm voice. "If we rush in without thinking, we risk repeating the same mistake we made with the third riddle, when the formation of groups cost us lives." "
His words partially calmed the growing agitation. For a moment, everyone's eyes left the floating symbols and focused on him.
Then one of the survivors suddenly seemed to understand something. His eyes lit up, and he raised his hand before stepping forward to the center of the group.
"These names... Oda, Tokugawa, Hojo," he said hesitantly, as if checking his own memories. "They are not chosen at random. They refer to the feudal history of Japan. More specifically... to the Sengoku period."
A slight murmur ran through the assembly.
Ishikawa turned to him.
"Are you knowledgeable about history?"
The man scratched the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.
"Let's just say I know a little bit."
He took a breath, then continued with more confidence:
"These kingdoms most likely correspond to historical clans. Oda refers to Oda Nobunaga. Tokugawa refers to Tokugawa Ieyasu. And Hojo... refers to Hojo Ujiyasu. Three major figures of the Sengoku period, each with a very different way of governing, fighting, and surviving."
A heavy silence followed his words.
"Does that mean this new puzzle will be some kind of war?" someone suddenly asked, their voice laden with concern.
The question hung in the air for a moment, heavy with implication. Ishikawa then turned abruptly to Fujimoto. His gaze, usually measured, was now sharper, almost urgent.
"Tell me," he said bluntly. "If you had to choose... which kingdom would guarantee the best chance of survival?"
The brutality of the question surprised several people. It was obvious that Ishikawa was not just trying to guide the group. Behind his tone lay a very human fear: the fear of making the wrong choice and not escaping.
Fujimoto remained silent for a few seconds. He lowered his eyes slightly, thinking. The three symbols still floated in front of them, motionless, as if waiting to be judged.
"It's not that simple," he finally replied. "None of these kingdoms is perfect. Each has its strengths... and its weaknesses. "
He looked up and continued.
"If you are capable of patience, restraint, and waiting for the right moment, then the Tokugawa kingdom is probably the best choice. It is a clan that has survived through time, endurance, and long-term strategy."
Then, after a short pause, he added.
"On the other hand, for those who are skilled strategists, capable of anticipating and making bold decisions... the Oda clan would be more suitable. It is a risky choice, but potentially decisive."
"And the Hōjō clan?" someone remarked. "What about them?" "
Fujimoto turned slightly toward the holographic mirror representing the third kingdom. His voice became more measured, almost professorial.
"The Hōjō clan relied primarily on defense," he explained. "Their strength did not come from lightning conquests or complex political maneuvers, but from their fortresses. Impenetrable strongholds, designed to withstand the longest sieges."
A murmur immediately rippled through the crowd.
At the mention of a fortress, several faces relaxed. Some even let out a sigh of relief, as if an invisible weight had been lifted from their shoulders.
"So we can just choose the Hōjō kingdom and take refuge in the fortress until the mystery is solved, right?" someone said with ill-concealed enthusiasm.
"Yes, let's do that."
"It's the best option."
The voices quickly joined in. The idea of hiding, waiting, and surviving without having to face the danger head-on appealed to the majority. The unknown was less frightening when it could be kept at a distance behind thick walls.
Gradually, a consensus seemed to be forming. The Hōjō clan appeared to be the ideal refuge, the prudent choice, the one that would prevent another bloodbath.
But just as this sense of security was taking hold, it was shattered.
An electronic chime sounded.
Before their eyes, a new notification window appeared, blue, cold, indifferent to their hopes.
[Kurosawa Masanori has just joined the Hojo kingdom!
As the first to join the Hojo kingdom, he has been given the role of Marshal.]
Silence fell abruptly.
Everyone looked at each other, taken aback.
No one had moved. Not a step forward, not a gesture toward any of the symbols. And yet, the notification was there, indisputable.
How could someone have joined a clan when they had all remained motionless?
The murmurs resumed, even more confused than before. Some scanned the crowd, others mentally counted the survivors present, looking for someone missing who would explain the inexplicable. In vain.
Then the childish voice rang out again, clear, almost cheerful.
"You are not the only ones participating in this puzzle,"she said. "Other outside groups, who are not part of yours, also have access to this test."
The information fell like a sentence.
It meant that the choice of kingdoms did not depend solely on them.
That while they hesitated, reflected, debated... others were already moving forward.
Others were taking positions, occupying territory, and perhaps securing a decisive advantage.
I felt a shiver run through the assembly.
The nature of the puzzle had changed.
It was no longer just a question of survival or individual strategy, but an invisible race against opponents, and standing still was undoubtedly the worst decision.