The projection spun above the center of the voting chamber, casting flickering shadows along the cold, metallic walls. Its faint glow soon pulsed with an ominous rhythm—like the heartbeat of an unseen beast. Each flicker echoed in the silence, amplifying the tension that thrummed through the room. The air hung heavy with anticipation, thick with unspoken fears and relentless suspense.
A low hum of machinery filled the chamber, a constant reminder of the unseen forces controlling this deadly game. The faint smell of ozone and burnt circuitry lingered in the air, mingling with the sterile scent of disinfectant and cold metal. It was a place that seemed to swallow sound, rendering every whisper and breath more pronounced, more critical.
Suddenly, without warning, the projection flared brighter, blindingly so. It cast a fierce, crimson light that sliced through the darkness like a blade, illuminating the room with a brutal, unnatural glow. The red spotlight snapped onto Eirene's seat with ruthless precision, locking her in place as if by an unseen hand.
「Voting results calculated.」
「Top Voted: Eirene Xu」
Eirene's stomach clenched with a mix of dread and defiance, a cold sweat prickling at her temples. Every nerve in her body seemed to stand on edge, alert and trembling.
The entire chamber plunged into an oppressive gloom. Shadows stretched long and twisted, like specters reaching out to drag her into some unseen abyss. The silence grew heavier, thick enough to suffocate. The only sound was her own ragged breathing and the faint, rhythmic pounding of her heart—loud, deafening in her ears.
「Defense Phase activated.」
「Eirene Xu, you may now speak.」
「Judgement Phase will begin at 11:00.」
"So this is how it happens."
Her gaze lifted, steady despite the mounting pressure beneath her.
"Of course it was me," she thought.
Not because she was wrong, but because she had been loud.
"Oh, come on," she muttered bitterly, her voice cutting through the silence like a shard of glass. It was sharp, raw with frustration, and tinged with disbelief.
Her eyes darted around the chamber, taking in her fellow players—each of them frozen in their own tense silence, faces masks of apprehension or aloof detachment. She snapped her hair behind her shoulder, trying to mask her rising anger, but her trembling hands betrayed her. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the chaos, trying to find some way out of this nightmare.
"The minute you saw someone loud with an opinion, you turned into cowards," she continued, voice rising with frustration. "So, when someone speaks up, you all shut down. You're just waiting for the right moment to pounce."
Her words echoed softly in the vast, hollow chamber, bouncing off the walls and amplifying the weight of her accusation. Her fists clenched tightly, knuckles white, as she stared at the red light that seemed to mock her.
Across the room, Fuji tilted his head, eyes flickering with a complex mixture of amusement and unease. His lips curled into a faint, sardonic smile. He looked unfazed, but beneath that calm exterior, she sensed a flicker of something darker—perhaps guilt, or just indifference.
"Hey," he said casually, tilting his head. "I voted based on vibes. Don't lump me in." His voice was light, almost playful, but the tension in the room made every word feel like a carefully measured step on thin ice.
Eirene spun toward him, her eyes blazing.
"That's exactly why you're part of the problem! This isn't lunch detention, Fuji—I am getting eliminated here, not you!"
"Damn, chill—" Fuji started, half-laughing, but the sound died quickly as her voice cut straight through him.
Beside, Asher winced and instinctively shut his ear, sensing the storm brewing. Her voice was loud and passionate—making it dangerous.
"She's spiraling, and she knows it," he thought silently. "She's not wrong... but she's way too loud right now."
The tension between everyone was palpable, electric enough to ignite a spark at any moment.
Vanitas looked uncertain, her gaze flickering with doubt and guilt. Her hands trembled slightly as she spoke softly, almost apologetically.
"You are... pretty aggressive," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid her words might trigger a catastrophe.
"Aggressive? Why wouldn't I be?! I am being wronged! Since when is calling out bullshit a crime?!"
Her chest rose sharply, and her breath caught—not from fear, but from the pressure building inside her, mounting faster than she could control it.
Something in her tightened. Not the anger, but something deeper—something colder, more primal.
"This isn't right," she whispered, her gaze flickering briefly—not away, but inward, as if searching for something lost. "This is just the beginning."
The thought came quietly, almost inaudibly, yet its cut was sharper than any words she'd spoken aloud.
"I didn't come here to fall this early," she thought fiercely. "I didn't come here to be your easy vote!"
Her jaw clenched, a steely resolve settling in her eyes.
Silver, eyes sharp beneath her composed exterior, crossed her arms slowly, studying Eirene with a calm that hid a keen, calculating mind.
"It's not what you said," she stated, voice steady but carrying an edge of scrutiny, "It's how you said it." Her words were deliberate and measured, as if peeling back layers beneath her surface.
Eirene's disbelief broke into bitter, trembling laughter, her voice wavering with raw emotion.
"Right. God forbid I don't coat it in sugar," she snapped.
Shun watched her carefully, his expression a mixture of concern and quiet assessment, his eyes narrowing just slightly, reading her like a book.
"She's taking this more poorly than I thought," Shun thought, noting the tension in her tense stance and ragged breathing.
"You want soft. You want pleasant," she said, voice trembling with raw emotion, "you want the girl who cries and begs so you feel better thinking you're right."
Her words were like a scream in the darkness, each syllable laced with fury.
Finally, Noah spoke, voice calm but with a dangerous undertone that made the hairs on her neck stand up.
"It is not that she is being aggressive or defensively covering her tracks," Noah said steadily. "She is merely reacting to being accused. She is not the kind to plead, and now you lot are using that against her."
His gaze was unwavering, like a blade slicing through the fog of chaos, revealing the undercurrents of tension beneath.
Vanitas glanced nervously from Silver to Eirene, her eyes flickering with conflicting emotions. She hesitated before softly asking, "But what if you're just defending her because you're close?"
Noah snapped back before she could finish, tone firm and unwavering. "Then listen to her logic, not her tone. Unless this entire competition is about collectively going against the first person who refuses to play submissive."
His words echoed ominously, like a challenge thrown down.
Ace shifted slightly in her seat, one leg crossing over the other as her fingers tapped once against her arm—an unconscious habit when she was thinking too fast. Her brows knit together, gaze flickering between Eirene and Silver, not with fear—but calculation.
Eirene's voice rose again, raw and trembling with frustration. "Exactly! Noah's the only one here not treating this like some petty gossip circle!"
Her words were sharp, accusatory, and they seemed to slice through the thick silence like a scream.
Lux remained perfectly still—completely still. From the outside, nothing had changed: her posture was composed, her expression unreadable, her gaze lightly resting on Eirene as if she were just another observer in the room. Yet, her fingers had subtly curled against her sleeve, almost imperceptible.
"Sorry," Lux thought, her eyes lowering for a brief fraction of a second.
Her eyes lifted again, all trace of that fleeting moment gone—calm, controlled, distant.
"It had to be done."
Fuji chuckled bitterly, eyes flickering with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "You're making a good case, but that attitude is really..."
Eirene leaned forward, eyes blazing with unrelenting fury. "Good. Maybe it'll pierce through your thick skull."
Eirene's voice was hoarse, trembling with raw emotion, every word a challenge, a desperate act of defiance against the mounting tide of silence and submission.
Kusako looked nervous, her eyes darting anxiously. "I don't like yelling…" she thought, feeling overwhelmed.
Her gaze flickered around the chamber, seeking some sign of hope, some way to escape this nightmare.
Eirene's eyes locked onto Silver again, her voice trembling as she spoke.
"You poisoned the Survivors the moment you pointed fingers without a real case," Eirene snapped, her voice edged with anger rather than desperation.
"But you did it calmly, so they followed," she added, a sharp undertone in her tone.
Silver's eyes narrow slightly, her tone defensive but controlled. She kept her emotions in check, her words deliberate.
"And if you're innocent," she said steadily, "why are you throwing a fit?"
Eirene's voice cracked from volume, raw with frustration. "Because I'm being accused—not guilty! I'm pissed as fuck!"
Ace leaned back slightly, her mind racing. "Is this a breakdown or a bluff?"
Eirene's finger shot out, gesturing at each of them in turn, her voice tight with urgency.
"The quiet girl? Nah. The pretty one? Protected." Her hand paused briefly, then sharpened. "And the loud one who actually calls out the truth?" She let out a thin, bitter laugh. "Wow. 'Scary.' Silence her first."
Her eyes flickered—just for a moment—toward Akhina.
"Don't you think that's why she's—" She hesitated, frustration pulling at her expression as she gestured vaguely. "Sorry, what's your name again?"
Akhina blinked, then pointed lightly at herself, brows lifting in mild confusion.
For a fleeting moment, the tension cracked. Asher exhaled softly, a faint twitch at the corner of his lips—a subtle, almost amused smile—before he spoke.
"Akhina," he said quietly. "Her name's Akhina."
Eirene didn't look at him. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, sharper now, more deliberate.
"Right. Don't you think that's exactly why Akhina has been silenced too?"
That landed with more weight.
"This isn't a coincidence," she pressed. "Or maybe it is."
Her gaze sharpened.
"And this is exactly how you wanted it to play out, Silver."
Her eyes swept across the room, compelling everyone to follow her gaze.
"This is the hunters' doing. Can't any of you see the pattern?"
Shun's expression remained calm and unreadable. He didn't respond outwardly, but his gaze flicked briefly toward Fuji and Lux—just a quick, almost involuntary glance.
"I could swear we had nothing to do with this," he thought.
There was a pause, and then he added, almost under his breath, "But… that assumption's getting harder to defend."
Silver tilted her head slightly, her expression tired but still holding a hint of irritation.
"Are you accusing me of being a Hunter?"
Her tone was measured, but there was a weight behind it—as if she was tired of this game.
Eirene let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Yeah, what about it?"
Her eyes locked onto Silver, unwavering. "Everything points back to you."
"You start the accusation. You set the tone. You make it sound reasonable enough for everyone to follow—" Her voice grew sharper, more commanding. "—and suddenly I'm the easiest target in the room."
"And your proof?" Silver asked evenly, though a flicker of impatience crept in.
Eirene scoffed. "Proof? You really think hunters are dumb enough to leave clear evidence?"
Her eyes narrowed. "You fucking poisoned yourself."
The atmosphere shifted—subtle, but unmistakable. Silver's gaze sharpened just a little, no longer willing to indulge the accusation as lightly as before.
"That would be a stupid risk," she said flatly.
"Exactly," Eirene snapped. "No one questions the person who's already a victim."
Her voice grew faster, more certain. "You take the hit, gain trust, and everything you say carries weight."
The room grew tense. Fuji shifted uneasily, narrowing his eyes as he observed.
"Are we really going to buy into this?" he muttered under his breath.
Ace crossed her arms, eyeing the situation with a mixture of skepticism and frustration.
"Yeah, but if she's right..." she trailed off, voice low.
Kusako flinched, her fingers curling nervously into her sleeves as her gaze darted between Silver and Eirene.
"Um… guys, maybe we shouldn't fight…" she mumbled, her voice trembling slightly.
She looked down for a brief moment, then back up again, as if carefully choosing her words.
"Can we just… talk it through calmly?"
Her shoulders drew in slightly, her voice soft but sincere.
Vanitas glanced at her for a second. She didn't say anything, but gave a small, reassuring look, the kind that didn't interrupt the moment but quietly said, "it's okay."
Kusako caught it, and her grip loosened slightly against her sleeves, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction.
Silver exhaled softly as if she was reining herself back in, her composure settling again—intact, but noticeably firmer.
"So your whole case," she said, her voice steady, though something tighter sat beneath it, "is that I deliberately sabotaged myself just to manipulate all of you?"
Eirene didn't hesitate. "Yes."
A brief silence stretched between them.
"Because it worked, didn't it?"
A heavy silence settled over them, unrelenting and thick.
Noah shook his head slowly, glancing away.
Asher shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is a mess," he muttered.
Ace let out a slow sigh, her expression turning more focused. "We need to figure out what's really going on, not just throw accusations around."
Lux's gaze stayed sharp, carefully weighing each word and glance. "True. We need to figure this out carefully."
Vanitas looked down, guilt creeping into her eyes as she stared at the floor.
"Is this really how the competition's supposed to go?" she whispered, voice barely audible. "Do I even want this?"
Her shoulders sagged, the weight of her indecision pressing down on her, almost overwhelming.
Noah muttered under his breath, frustration slipping into his voice.
"How dimwitted."
Silver remained unmoved, her gaze steady and unwavering as she kept her composure. "Alright, then we'll find out."
Eirene's breath hitched slightly, her eyes burning with fierce, unyielding resolve as she stared straight ahead.
"Yeah," she said, quieter now but just as certain. "We fucking will."
Above them, the projection pulsed again—slower and heavier this time—as if the system itself was taking its time. A countdown flickered into existence, its numbers glowing sharp and unforgiving red, rapidly decreasing from thirty.
For a fleeting moment, the entire room descended into absolute stillness—no sound, no motion, not even a breath.
And then, all at once—
Every player's interface illuminated simultaneously. A sharp, synchronized pulse rippled through the space.
Before each of them, a translucent panel flickered into existence, hovering just within reach. Its cold, merciless glow cast stark shadows across their faces.
「Processing Judgement...」
「Spare」 「Kill」
Shun closed his eyes briefly, exhaling through his nose, thoughts settling into place.
"This is where it resolves," he thought, not with excitement but with quiet certainty.
Eirene's gaze remained fixed forward, unblinking, as if refusing to give this moment anything—fear, doubt, or otherwise.
"Do it," she thought, her mind sharp and unwavering. "Prove me right."
As the numbers continued falling, Vanitas suddenly stood.
Her chair scraped sharply against the floor, breaking through the suffocating silence and turning every head toward her.
"This doesn't feel right," she said, voice unsteady but with an edge that carried just enough weight.
It wasn't loud, but it shifted something—just slightly.
Silver's head moved toward her, calm and measured. "Sit down, Vanitas."
Her tone wasn't commanding or controlling, just matter-of-fact—because time was running out and they had to make a decision.
Vanitas hesitated, her fingers tightening faintly at her sides, gaze flickering between them.
"I just… I don't know," she said, voice faltering before she pushed herself to speak again. "What if we're wrong?"
She drew in a quiet breath, almost uncertain. "What if it's neither of you?"
Eirene let out a short, bitter laugh—dry and sharp against the tense atmosphere.
"Oh, now you grow a spine."
At that moment, Fuji leaned forward slightly, voice steady but questioning.
"So… you think we should spare Eirene from the vote?"
Ace, crossing her arms, shrugged. "Both argued pretty well. Hard to say who's right right now. Maybe we should wait and see how this plays out."
Shun opened his eyes, voice calm but firm. "Deciding now feels wrong. We're running out of time."
Lux looked thoughtful, then shook her head. "This got too messy. There is no point in second-guessing. I've made up my mind and I'll just stick with it."
The countdown kept ticking, indifferent to the fracture forming between them.
No one interrupted nor stepped in. The room hovered on the edge, suspended in that fragile moment where everything could still shift—yet no one moved to make it happen.
The projection's glow intensified slightly, its presence pressing more heavily into the space, as if bracing for what was coming next.
「5...」
The number echoed—louder this time, no longer just a display but something that pressed into the room.
「4...」
Nobody moved an inch. The faint glow of the panels reflected in their eyes—Spare or Kill, waiting, demanding, judging them just as much as they judged her.
「3...」
Eirene let out a quiet breath, her gaze steady as she looked straight ahead.
"I'm not begging," she thought, her expression settling into something resolute, something unbreakable.
A sharp flicker tore through the projection, and several heads snapped up at once.
Too late.
「Vote process complete.」
「Eirene Xu is...」