A sudden, invisible wave of force struck the group, causing them to stagger backward. Yudashi stepped forward instinctively, attempting to shield the others from the surge. Saki followed closely behind him. They descended a short flight of stairs when a second, more powerful wave hit. Yudashi's grip on Saki's hand faltered and slipped away entirely.
Another wave followed, freezing Yudashi in place, his body rigid and immobilized. Saki glanced back and saw him motionless. The laboratory lights extinguished completely, plunging the area into darkness.
Saki pressed forward alone, her eyes and hair emitting a faint, ethereal shimmer. Another wave washed over her, yet it left her unaffected.
Moving cautiously, she became aware of strange, curse-like marks glowing across her face and abdomen. She quickly crossed her arms over her stomach in an attempt to conceal them. "No... not again," she whispered urgently, trying to suppress the luminescence.
As she advanced, she began murmuring the lyrics of "Shadows," a song by the K-pop group PRISMA-X, under her breath. Hesitantly, she entered a narrow hallway. Her glowing hair reflected faintly in the glass panels of nearby experiments.
The marks on her skin grew brighter despite her efforts to control them. She pulled up her hood and continued onward. The corridor narrowed with every step.
At the far end, a flickering light beckoned. Saki approached warily and reached toward it. Suddenly, an unseen force tugged her backward with violent strength. She seized a nearby support pole, squeezed her eyes shut, and cried out, "Someone—help me!"
Her hair and marks glowed more intensely as she fought against the pull. Summoning all her strength, she lunged forward, grasped a handle, wrenched the door open, and slipped inside. She slammed it shut behind her, breathing heavily.
Covering her mouth to stifle her sobs, she felt her hair gradually return to normal. "Not again... not again," she repeated through tears that streamed down her cheeks.
Looking ahead, her gaze locked onto a particular experiment. Recognition struck instantly: this was the prototype her mother had created years earlier and donated to the Neuro-Cloud Observatory. She hurried toward it, only to be halted by an invisible barrier.
Saki searched frantically for any switch or mechanism to disable the field but found none. Her eyes then fell upon a cogwheel nearby. Wiping her tears, she grasped it firmly.
A nearby screen flashed an alert: Suspicious Activity Detected! Return the cogwheel to the hallway immediately.
Saki hurried through the corridors, searching for the correct slot. Reaching a concealed compartment secured by a heavy passcode lock, she set the cogwheel aside and began testing combinations. Each failed attempt triggered a warning: 3 attempts remaining.
Abandoning the lock for the moment, she retrieved the cogwheel, cracked the main door open to ensure the hallway was clear, and slipped out. Using her phone's flashlight, she navigated the dim space in search of the proper placement.
In her haste, her forehead struck a protruding metal rod. A thin line of blood trickled down her temple. Finding no handkerchief, she tore a strip from the hem of her shirt and pressed it to the wound to stem the bleeding.
Continuing her search, her hair resumed its faint glow. At last, she located an empty circular recess. She inserted the cogwheel, pressed the adjacent button, and a code—19169—flashed briefly on the screen. She committed it to memory.
Rushing back to the compartment, she entered 1-9-1-6-9. The lock disengaged with a soft click. Inside lay a lever. Saki pulled it downward. The invisible barrier surrounding the experiment deactivated.
She lifted the device and discovered a biometric sensor designed to recognize its creator's blood. Before she could act further, the immobilization effect began to fade. Voices and movement returned throughout the facility.
Hastily, Saki replaced the experiment and reactivated the barrier. Her curse marks dimmed, and the shimmer in her eyes and hair vanished completely.
She exited the room and made her way toward her classmates. Yudashi spotted her first. "Saki! Over here!"
He jogged to her side, concern etched on his face. "Thank goodness you're safe. What happened to your forehead?"
"It's nothing—just a small scratch," she replied quietly.
They rejoined the group. Hensudo called out anxiously, "Yudashi! Saki! Sensei isn't waking up!"
Yudashi hurried over and crouched beside Mr. Hoshino. "Sensei? What happened?"
"We don't know—he's completely unconscious," Michi answered.
Several staff members arrived promptly with a stretcher, carefully transferred Mr. Hoshino onto it, and wheeled him toward the nearby Neuro-Cloud Hospital wing.
Saki watched in horror, guilt rising within her at the thought that her presence might have caused this. She reached out to touch his forehead, but the workers swiftly changed direction and moved away.
Yudashi remained frozen in place as whispers among the other students grew louder. A female staff member stepped forward and announced calmly, "There is no cause for alarm. He is simply exhausted. Please remain seated and composed."
The students began to settle, though murmurs persisted. Another staff member distributed cans of soda to the group.
Saki followed a few steps after the stretcher bearers. "I think we should—"
A worker interrupted firmly. "Students are not permitted beyond this line."
Saki stopped. Michi approached from behind. "Saki, are you all right?"
"Yes... nothing to worry about," she replied.
As they returned to the group, Saki cast several doubtful glances toward the female staff member.
The woman noticed and offered a saccharine smile. "Is there something you need, dear?"
"No, thank you," Saki answered.
The staff member's fist clenched briefly at her side, though she said nothing further.
Michi leaned close to Saki and whispered, "Don't you find her behaviour strange ever since Sensei collapsed?"
Saki nodded in silent agreement and took a seat beside Yudashi and the others.
Dave leaned forward toward Michi. "I think they're planning something. Sensei didn't eat anything heavy yesterday, and he's not that old."
Hensudo nodded. "Yesterday, when we complained about the food, that worker gave us a filthy look."
Michi added, "And today we were all suddenly immobilized. Saki, you've been quiet—what do you think?"
Saki met Michi's gaze. "I don't have a good feeling about this place at all."
One of the students called out politely, "Excuse me, miss—when will our teacher return?"
The female staff member replied with thinly veiled irritation, "In just a couple of minutes. Don't worry."
Tison whistled softly to his friends and murmured something about how attractive the staff member was. She overheard and snapped, "I hope we are not here to make personal comments."
Tison suddenly froze, clutching at his throat as though an invisible hand were squeezing it. He gasped desperately for air while his classmates looked on in alarm. Moments later, the pressure released, and he drew a ragged breath.
Yudashi asked urgently, "What just happened to you?"
"It felt like someone was—" Tison began.
The female staff member cut him off sharply. "Everyone—cafeteria. Now."
Her eyes flicked toward Saki and the group with a fleeting smirk before she looked away.
"Something is seriously wrong with that woman," Dave whispered.
The group complied and moved to the cafeteria, where staff began distributing lunch packets.
As they ate, Dave sat beside Tison and asked quietly, "What were you saying earlier?"
"It felt like someone was trying to suffocate me," Tison replied.
Hensudo grimaced after a bite. "This food tastes rotten."
The cafeteria soon filled with complaints about the meal's quality. The female staff member raised her voice authoritatively: "The food is not rotten. Its aroma is intentional—it promotes health."
---------------XOXO---------------