Episode 1: Divide & Conquer

  8:03 AM

  West Kyoto High, Class 1-A

  I knew something was off the moment I walked in.

  Not because of the silence. Not because of the missing teachers.

  Because the air felt… filtered. Like someone had vacuum-sealed the school and forgot to tell us.

  Everyone else was talking. Laughing. Scrolling.

  I was in the back row, hoodie up, pretending to text on a phone with 3% battery and no signal.

  Classic Ayato. Invisible. Disposable.

  The weird otaku who never talks unless it’s about anime or game mechanics.

  No one was going to ask me what I thought. They never did.

  Then the intercom crackled.

  “Good morning, Class 1-A.”

  The voice was wrong. Too smooth. Too calm. Like someone trying to sound human and missing the mark.

  “Congratulations. You’ve been selected.”

  Cherry snorted. “Okay, who’s the nerd with the voice mod?”

  Mio didn’t even look up. “Probably Tetsuya. He’s always pulling dumb pranks.”

  “Your first task will begin shortly. Please remain in your seats.”

  My stomach dropped.

  I’d heard that line before. Not here. Not in real life.

  In a visual novel. A horror sim. A death game anime from 2012 that got banned after three episodes.

  I looked at the door.

  Still open. Still normal. Still wrong.

  Daichi stood up. “Alright, I’m out. Y’all have fun with your little ARG.”

  He walked to the door. Opened it. Stepped into the hallway.

  The door swung shut behind him.

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  Silence.

  No footsteps. No echo. No sound at all.

  Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.

  Then the voice came back.

  “If you leave the classroom… you will die.”

  No one laughed this time.

  ---

  00:30:00

  The screen at the front of the room flickered on. A white mask. Blank. Featureless. Watching.

  “You have thirty minutes. Divide into units. Retrieve supplies. Return before time runs out.”

  “If you are not back in time, the door will not open again.”

  “Begin.”

  The countdown started.

  ---

  Yuri stood up first. “We need four teams. Food and water. Medical. Weapons. Search and rescue.”

  Of course she was the one giving orders. She always was.

  Smart. Sharp. The kind of girl who made teachers smile and classmates shut up.

  Mizhang stood next to her, arms crossed. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to.

  He was the kind of guy who filled a room just by existing.

  Captain of the kendo team. Top of the gym class leaderboard.

  And Yuri’s little brother, even if he looked like he could bench-press a vending machine.

  I ended up on the medical team. No one argued. No one even looked at me.

  The weapons team was four guys who thought they were main characters.

  They left first. Confident. Loud. Laughing.

  ---

  00:12:47

  We were halfway back when the radio crackled.

  “Weapons team to base. We’ve got everything—repeat, we’ve got—”

  Static.

  Then screaming.

  Not one voice. Multiple. Sharp. Wet. Cut off.

  Everyone froze.

  “Was that—?” Yui whispered.

  “Don’t,” Yuri snapped. “Keep moving.”

  I was already turning.

  “Go back to the classroom,” I said.

  Cherry grabbed my arm. “Are you serious?”

  “They’re not all dead yet.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I’m going anyway.”

  I pulled free. Didn’t wait for permission. Didn’t look back.

  ---

  00:10:03

  Gym Storage Hall

  The door was ajar. Blood smeared the floor. A trail of it led inside.

  I stepped over a body. Didn’t look at the face.

  Inside: chaos. Broken shelves. Scattered bats. A fire axe embedded in the wall.

  And in the center of the room—

  A Wildling.

  It was crouched over something. Someone. Its limbs were too long. Its head twitched like a broken animatronic.

  I didn’t breathe.

  I picked up a metal pole. Quiet. Slow.

  The Wildling turned.

  Its face was a child’s. A girl’s. But wrong. Too smooth. Too symmetrical.

  Its mouth opened, and the scream it let out was not human.

  I charged.

  ---

  00:05:00

  Classroom 1-A

  I wasn’t there to hear it, but I can imagine how it went.

  Someone probably asked where I was.

  Someone else probably said, “Who cares?”

  Maybe Yuri looked at the clock. Maybe she did the math.

  Maybe she realized I should’ve been back by now.

  “Stop talking about him,” someone would’ve said. “He’s dead.”

  “He went back for them,” Yuri might’ve said.

  And Mizhang?

  “He’s not a hero, Yuri. He’s a damn otaku with a death wish.”

  That one I’m sure of.

  ---

  00:00:07

  The door slammed open.

  I stumbled in, soaked in blood, dragging a duffel bag that felt like it weighed more than I did.

  No one moved. No one spoke.

  I dropped the bag.

  “Next time,” I said, “send more than four.”

  Then everything went sideways.