Despite feeling more than a little worried by the bad news, I was pretty hungry. I quickly wolfed down my breakfast, clutching the crumpled note from Toki in my hand at all times—as if scared it would dissolve if I dropped it—then went into the kitchen for snacks.

It was loaded with probably a month’s supply of food, so I grabbed a couple of bits and pieces to take away with me, plus some fruit and bottled water from the fridge. I also noticed the same brand of beer I was used to, so yeah, I grabbed a can of that too.

Checking over at the office, I spotted a thick, heavy lever-arch folder and, to my surprise, a lanyard with some sort of ID already created for me.

Scooping everything up, I made my way back to the bedroom and dumped it all on the bed—except for the beer, which I cracked open and slurped down in a rush.

I started looking through the binder. Page 1 was a checklist informing me of everything to review, with highlighted instructions to explicitly have my ID on me at all times when traversing common areas.

“Okay... fine.”

I skimmed the rest: basically strict government rules—no leaving during your contracted stay, try not to do anything stupid, respect your superiors, etc.

Then I realized I had no idea what lay beyond the kitchen. I went back to the checklist and scrolled down until I found it. Three maps of different facility levels were available to me. On the first sheet, in red pen, was a circle around one of the rooms and an arrow pointing to it with the words You are here. I think it was Akane’s handwriting?

She’d also circled access points between levels, helping me understand where everything was positioned. She even used a yellow highlighter to mark all the doors I had access to. Pretty thoughtful of her. She was probably okay after a—

Damn it, I guess she can still—

I paused, remembering some of Toki’s weird remarks. Wasn’t that the second time I was ready to think she was okay? My headache throbbed harder as a feeling of something I wasn’t quite seeing settled over me. It worsened until I stopped myself.

I want you to imagine a wall.

Should I? Now I wasn’t so sure...

Then it hit me—I’d dropped the crumpled note beside the bed and completely forgotten about it. But more of Toki’s anxious features flashed before me as I picked it up and unfolded it.

The handwriting was atrocious. It looked like Toki couldn’t write at all, but I’d seen a few of the documents he’d signed—this wasn’t true.

Instead of his usual handwriting, it was like he’d chosen function over form, writing in big block letters. It looked as if he’d written everything with his mouth or something. Droplets of blood scattered here and there, ink and blood smudges mixing, letters crossed out, and little stick-figure diagrams with wiggly lines coming off them littered the page. It read:

SEE FOR YOURSELF. KIDS REC ZONE BEFORE MONDAY. KIDS PSYCHIC POWERS. YOU TOO. EXPERIMENT. SPACIAL ANOMALY IS CAUSE.
PROTECT MIND
DON’T TRUST TAKAHASHI

Huh?

What???

I was shocked. I couldn’t believe it. And yet, this sinking feeling inside me screamed that it was true.

Just my luck to get involved in something sick and twisted like that. Either that, or Toki was completely mad... No, well, it was crazy, but it explained my recent visions and weird nightmares. Still, I needed just a bit more evidence before I dove down the rabbit hole.

I started checking the folder in front of me. It listed short summaries of the students I’d be working with. I scooped those out along with the maps and my ID—and finished my second beer. Psychic powers? No. No, that’s... no.

I stood up, somewhat irritated now, shaking away the creeping headache, and left the room determined to find answers.

Looking at the map in my hands, I stepped into what appeared to be the main hallway for this level: [SCA] — SCHOOL ADMIN. I followed it along, noting I was nearly directly opposite a much larger room titled MEDICAL [02]. Also nearby: PRINTING [04] and TEACHER’S OFFICE [01].

Both my apartment and medical were situated toward the middle of the floor. The hallway down the middle was one of three, and from above, formed an H pattern. Other areas were blank or marked as storage, cleaning supplies, etc. Three elevators appeared on the map—one at each end of the main hallway, with stairwell access beside each—and a much larger service elevator alone inside medical.

I scanned my ID on what would be the southern side of the map, and the elevator began to rise. I also tried the stairwell scanner while I waited—with a click, it granted access.

What I saw next made my stomach churn. The stairwell only descended, but worse still: beneath the letters [SCA]—though painted over, probably in the last year or so—were traces of indentations for the original characters marking this level:

B7

My head felt light. A feeling of doom pressed on my chest. My vision flashed again, and I thought I heard a low guttural growl from below.

The elevator dinged sharply, and I looked back at my maps. Below my level was:

• [SC-G] SCHOOL — GENERAL

• [SC-REC] SCHOOL — RECREATIONAL

The outside of the facility when I arrived had looked no more than two stories high. Shaking my head, it seemed to confirm my fears.

“Fuck.”

I took note of the available floors in the elevator. There were five total. The three I had access to were at the top of the list, color-coded industrial yellow. The two below were labeled DORM A and DORM B, color-coded industrial blue. Most likely, the only way up was through the service elevator, which only appeared on the medical level.

I did not have access to medical.

“Ohhh, shit.”

With my head still spinning, I dropped to level 2—[SC-G]—first. There seemed to be a room for nearly every school subject, including a large workshop for mechanics and engineering. Looking at the maps again, I realized this level was considerably larger than the one I’d come from. The space between the two elevator shafts alone implied it was at least three times the size.

Hell, the workshop had an early 90’s industrial lathe and everything. I looked around the equipment; all the heavy equipment was from around that era. I was totally bewildered.

Yeah, I was certain now. From the building’s layout, security, size, and multiple basement levels, this place wasn’t just a new facility for troubled kids. No—it had been around a lot longer. These “classrooms” held enough equipment to probably sustain a small underground community for years.

This wasn’t just a facility. It was a decades-old, high-security, multi-level underground bunker.

“You’re smarter than I gave you credit for, Kai Fukami.”

With that, a chill ran down my spine.