"This is ridiculous," Shibata growled, running a hand through his soaked hair. "No one's voting on anything. No one's accusing anyone. We stick together, we fight this as one—"
"Fight what?" Tsubasa barked. "A chandelier? A house? How do you fight something you can't see?"
"We don't play by its rules," Shibata said firmly. "That's how we win."
"Or how we all die," Reina murmured.
"Shut up, Reina!" Ayaka snapped.
But the damage was done.
The seed was planted.
Mika's eyes kept darting toward Toru. Sayaka's fists clenched, ready to swing at anyone who pushed her. Tsubasa paced like a wolf caged. Yume trembled, trying to patch holes in a ship already sinking.
The mansion creaked around them.
And somewhere in the walls, a clock begin to tick.
The ticking grew louder. It wasn't just the storm outside or the pounding of hearts inside the library—it was something else, deeper, crawling through the mansion's walls. A clock that no one could see, counting down to something inevitable.
Then the bell ring.
A hollow, thunderous clang shook dust from the shelves. The chandeliers flickered. The air dropped colder. At the top of the staircase, he appeared again.
Headmaster Grimm.
Porcelain mask. Painted smile. Puppet joints that creaked with every jerky bow. His robe trailed the stairs like a shadow too long.
The blackboard materialized against the wall, chalk resting in its tray. Grimm tilted his porcelain mask down from the stairs, the chandeliers flickering in time with his words.
"Class," he said, voice hollow, "a decision must be made. One of you is an Extra. Find them. If you refuse…" He paused, as if savoring the silence. "…the house will choose for you. And when it does, it will not be merciful."
The words hit like ice.
"No," Ayaka said sharply, shaking her head. "We can't just—this isn't—"
"Then what do you suggest?" Tsubasa snapped, his voice sharp with panic. "Do nothing? Let it kill us all? You heard him."
"Maybe that's what it wants," Sayaka growled, fists trembling. "It's forcing us to turn on each other."
"But if we don't, we all die," Mika hissed. Her eyes darted around, glittering with fear. "Do you want that? One person is safer than thirty."
"That's not safer," Yume whispered, tears streaking her cheeks. "That's murder."
"Better one than everyone," Reina murmured, her smile thin and unsettling. "That's the rule of sacrifice."
A heavy silence followed.
Grimm's voice cut through it. "Ten minutes. Choose. Or the lesson ends in blood."
The threat shook the room apart.
"It's Toru!" Mika shouted suddenly, pointing across the table. "He's always quiet, always staring at nothing. Doesn't anyone else notice? He doesn't act like he belongs here!"
Heads turned. Toru froze, the candle hidden in his hand flickering wildly.
Sayaka slammed the table. "Bullshit! Toru hasn't done anything. You just want someone to blame."
Mika's voice went shrill. "And you're defending him because you like him? Open your eyes—he's wrong, he's always been wrong!"
"That's not proof!" Ayaka snapped.
"Then what about Kanae?" Tsubasa cut in, sharp as glass. "She knew too much. She's the one who said this was a curse. How would she know unless she was part of it?"
Kanae's face went pale. "I-I only read about it. Old stories. That doesn't make me—"
"Convenient," Tsubasa spat.
Yume broke down, sobbing. "Stop it! Please! This isn't—"
"Five minutes," Grimm said flatly.
Panic exploded. Shouts overlapped. Names flew like knives. Some clung to Mika's accusation, others to Tsubasa's. A few just scribbled the first name that came to mind. The chalk moved on its own, tallying the votes in cruel, even strokes.
When it stopped, one name glared back at them: Haruto Minami.
The transfer student staggered back. "W-What? No! It wasn't me! I didn't—"
The chandeliers above blazed alive, drowning the room in white. Curtains unrolled from nowhere, transforming the foyer into a stage. A spotlight pinned Haruto, burning away every shadow except his own.
The others screamed, tried to turn, but invisible weight clamped their bodies. Their spines locked. Their eyes were forced forward.
Grimm descended the staircase in slow, deliberate jerks. "Skipping the role you've been given?" His mask gleamed. "Attendance is mandatory."
Haruto bolted for the far door, but it slammed shut with a thunderous crack. The spotlight chased him, merciless. Curtains lashed forward like ropes, coiling around his wrists and ankles, dragging him back to center stage.
The floor split with a groan. An iron chair rose from the gap, rusted and reeking of oil. Leather straps writhed like living snakes, binding Haruto as he screamed.
"No! Please, it's not me!" His eyes darted to Ayaka, then Toru, desperate. "Help me! Don't let it—"
The blackboard scratched by itself: Lesson begins.
The chair shuddered. Sparks erupted from its frame, lightning dancing in the air though no wires fed it. Haruto convulsed, jerking against the straps. His shadow stretched grotesquely across the curtains, writhing long after his body faltered.
Sayaka cursed, fighting the invisible bonds. Ayaka cried out until her voice broke. Kanae pressed her hands to her mouth, sobbing. Yume clung to Toru's sleeve, trembling. The candle in his palm blazed white-hot, searing his vision but keeping his eyes open. He couldn't look away. None of them could.
Then it ended.
The spotlight snapped off. Darkness swallowed the stage.
When the chandeliers flared back to life, the chair was empty. Only the charred straps remained, curling in smoke.
On the blackboard, chalk scraped one final line: Haruto Minami — Expelled.
The bonds broke. Students collapsed, sobbing and gasping. Some retched. Others sat hollow-eyed, shaking.
Ayaka's voice cracked, almost a whisper. "We… we killed him."
"No," Reina said softly, her thin smile cutting the air. "The house killed him. We just pointed."
Grimm bowed, porcelain grin unbroken. "Lesson concluded. Class will resume."
The curtains snapped shut. The stage vanished. But the echo of Haruto's last scream lingered in the air, etched into every mind, impossible to forget.