Almost instinctively, Miko covered her nose.
A pungent, metallic stench flooded the hallway, thick enough to drown in.
As the crimson light spread, Miko glimpsed fragmented corpses floating in a sea of blood, dying figures writhing in torment, and spectators laughing from the sidelines.
A bone-deep chill seized her.
Then, in an instant, the red glow drowned everything, casting the world in a bloodied filter. The figures that had been standing in the hallway twisted, their forms warping like reflections in a funhouse mirror, losing all semblance of humanity.
The killing intent that had been moments away from reaching them was forced back.
The wailing from the classrooms, the mocking laughter from the hallway—all of it retreated under the advance of the bloodlight. But in its place, the overpowering scent of rust and an inescapable, creeping dread made Miko certain of one thing:
This light could kill me without even trying.
Yet, it didn't.
The bloodlight avoided Miko and Bocchi entirely, spreading outward like a barrier, sealing away the threats beyond.
Outside the glow, twisted figures convulsed, their bodies contorting violently, as if driven mad. But no matter how they moved, they could not breach the crimson shield.
Worse—Miko could see corrosion spreading across them, like acid eating through flesh. The moment they touched the barrier, their bodies began rotting, their terrifying presence weakening.
Is the barrier attacking them? No… it's more like…absorption?
Yes, that was it. The barrier was draining their power.
Is this…Senpai's new blessing?
Miko realized then—this seemingly defensive barrier was, in truth, a ravenous beast, one that consumed everything in its path.
Frankly, the moment she sensed its nature, she doubted if it even was a blessing.
After all, blessings were supposed to be the final, sincere wishes of spirits who had resolved their grudges before moving on. No matter their form, they were meant to carry kindness at their core.
But this?
All Miko felt was hatred. Cruelty. Madness.
What kind of person would leave behind a blessing like this?
What kind of suffering could twist a spirit's final gift into something sovicious?
Even though Takakai had told her about Hachiya Chiyo, about the horrors of Shirasawa Elementary, seeing this power firsthand still shook her.
She never imagined his new blessing would be this monstrous.
"Move!"
Before she could dwell further, a large hand gripped her shoulder, yanking her back.
Takakai's expression was grim. The moment he unleashed Chiyo's barrier, he felt it—something was resisting it.
Something just as powerful.
A Core Obsession's strength.
And its source?
That open classroom.
As they ran, Takakai glanced toward the darkened doorway, but the interior was impossible to see.
The bloodlight shifted with him, its range centered around his position. But as the opposing force grew stronger, the barrier's expansion stalled.
Of course. Even a Crimson Moon blessing couldn't overpower a Core Obsession head-on.
But Takakai was already piecing things together.
This was Class 2-10.
According to intel, one of Yoruyama High's Core Obsessions—Asamoto Eriko, the guitarist—was supposed to be a third-year student in Class 3-10. Yet, during the day, no trace of her had been found there.
Same with Morihara Yukiharu, another Core Obsession who should've been in Class 2-3.
At the time, the players had been too overwhelmed by the dungeon's anomalies to dig deeper.
But now, with the barrier clashing directly against a Core Obsession's power in Class 2-10, and combined with the dream before entering…
Takakai finally understood.
[You will arrive at a time when everything can still be undone.]
The KP with clown makeup had said that in the dream.
Yoruyama High had changed drastically, but that was due to external forces altering memories and merging them with the dungeon's reality—not its true nature.
The real change was this:
Asamoto Eriko had been regressed from a third-year to a second-year.
Meaning the inescapable dead end designed by the [Writer] no longer existed.
Now, under the [Clown's] adjustments, the conditions to resolve her grudge might be completely different.
But first, he needed confirmation.
A pistol materialized in Takakai's hand.
Three gunshots rang out.
The bullets vanished mid-air, their target—the open classroom, the thing resisting the barrier.
Instantly, the opposing force weakened.
Confirmed.
The Core Obsession in Class 2-10 was Asamoto Eriko—the source of Bocchi's cursed guitar.
No time to linger.
Takakai grabbed Miko and Bocchi, bolting for the stairwell.
They didn't need to stay in this building anymore.
Knowing the location of a Core Obsession was enough. Now, the priority was survival—getting out alive to relay this intel.
No reckless exploration. No pushing their luck.
The risks weren't worth it.
Cracks spread across the bloodlight barrier.
More classroom doors creaked open behind them.
The longer they stayed, the more things awakened.
The barrier wouldn't hold long enough to reach the first floor.
Then—
The sound of a guitar.
Takakai turned to see Bocchi summoning five crude, featureless clones, lining them up beside her.
No words needed.
Takakai activated the barrier's secondary function, draining the clones dry. Their blood reinforced the barrier, stabilizing it.
But Bocchi didn't stop playing.
Her breathing grew ragged, her fingers bled, her face twisted in pain.
She had already used the guitar's power once—altering their entry sequence, leaving a clone behind to keep the exit open.
Using it twice in such a short time was pushing the Obsession Artifact's limits. If not for the suppression from Takakai's bullets, the backlash would've been even worse.
Footsteps echoed as they reached the stairwell.
Behind them, the darkened hallway suddenly lit up.
Two classrooms glowed with pale light.
Inside, students sat at every desk.
Faceless.
No eyes, no noses, no mouths—just blank, featureless flesh.
Under the ghostly illumination, they sat utterly still.
No—
They weren't silent.
They were speaking to him.
All of them.
The ones who came here. The ones who disappeared here. The ones who never left.
They had never stopped talking.
He just couldn't hear them.
CRACK.
The mental fragments in all three of their minds shattered simultaneously.
Miko gasped, nearly collapsing.
Bocchi staggered, then—without hesitation—stabbed a steel needle through one ear, yanked it out, and drove it through the other.
She ducked her head, refusing to look at the lit classrooms.
"Faster—!"
Takakai heard the second mental fragment break.
They were descending, the bloodlight barrier crumbling around them.
A baby's cries.
A girl's sobbing.
Handprints appeared on the walls.
One. Two. Three—until every surface was covered in them.
Takakai didn't dare look up.
Behind him, corpses pressed against the barrier.
Mangled. Broken. Rotting. Reaching.
Some wept. Some screamed. Some remained silent.
Outside the bloodlight, the stairwell was empty.
Outside the bloodlight, the stairwell was packed with students, whispering as they followed the trio down.
Outside the bloodlight, the stairwell was piled with corpses, left to decay—yet new ones kept appearing.
[Sensei… Sensei…]
Something called out.
Eyes peered from cracks in the walls.
Something crawled out of the garbage in the restroom.
More classrooms lit up.
But no students. No teachers.
So why could he hear lessons being taught?
[Have you finally come back to see us, Sensei?]
Someone skipped down the stairs.
Someone walked past, chatting about nothing and everything.
The noise was deafening.
Yet the place was deathly silent.
Where am I?
What is this place?
SLAM.
Takakai shut the door, blocking out the voices.
He kept running, his mind hazy, his sense of time distorted.
Had it taken longer to return than to enter? Or had no time passed at all?
Miko had passed out, carried over Takakai's shoulder.
He had knocked her out himself—knowing that even with twenty mental fragments, she wouldn't survive witnessing those lit classrooms.
Why so many?
How could this school haveso many dead?
Wiping blood from his nose, Takakai saw Bocchi climb out the window, then turn to pull Miko through.
The bloodlight barrier collapsed.
Behind him, the classroom door creaked open.
Something watched.
Something whispered.
Were they ever really there?
"Gh—…!"
The dizziness worsened.
His blessing screamed at him—run. Now.
His hand gripped the windowsill.
He hauled himself over, landing on the ground below.
He stood.
Dark hallways stretched ahead and behind.
Miko and Bocchi were gone.
…Am I still inside?
White light flickered on, illuminating him—
And the countless trembling shadows at his back.