Faced with the visual foreshadowing of her own death, literally one step away, Ava sighed. It was still better than the classic bathtub scene from horror movies. She would never finish the level if she were dipped into that viscous red fluid, the copper stench swallowing her whole. Still, she did not move. She would not take the initiative and offer herself to the ghost as the first victim of the night. She remained perfectly still, muscles locked with tension, praying that this time she would notice the clues she needed to crack the pattern behind its attacks.

The fluorescent panel of the vending machine cast a dim glow that let her make out the water turning red and helped shape the shadow of the thing drawing closer in silence. This time, the shadow looked like a leg. She tried to judge whether she could run, but something struck her shin, and she crashed to the floor. She flicked on the lamp, desperate for clarity, and felt a crushing weight settle on her chest. 

The lullaby resumed, just like before, joined by the piercing cry of a baby. The leg, though small, pinned her down completely, leaving her unable to lift her torso. She could only thrash weakly with her limbs. Seconds dragged on, stretching into minutes in her perception as she hesitantly reached out, trying to push it away.

 When her hands closed around the ghostly leg, she was startled by how soft it felt, almost pliant beneath her fingers. It was not cold stone or jagged bone but something disturbingly close to living flesh, warm enough to suggest fragility, as if it might give way if she pushed harder. For a brief, dangerous moment, hope flared. Then the truth settled in. The softness was only a surface illusion. Beneath it lay an unyielding force, steady and merciless, pressing down with a strength that neither wavered nor strained. No matter how she braced herself or dug her fingers in, it did not move. The ghostly limb pressed harder, stealing the air from her lungs until every breath became agony. She thought she heard a crack, and numbness crept through her upper body.

Having a body in the best condition possible was not always a blessing. If she had been normal, she would have already died. Instead, her limbs grew heavy and uncoordinated as oxygen slowly drained away. Sounds dulled and warped, the lullaby stretching into something even more haunting, as if the world were sinking underwater. Her vision narrowed, darkness pressing in from the edges, and tears slid down her face. Even without pain, she felt every second of this death, unlike the last times when it had ended in an instant.

Her movements slowed, then stopped altogether. Before her eyes finally closed, a fierce, burning desire took hold of her. She wanted to do the same to whoever had forced her into this game. To crush them like an ant, without effort, for daring to toy with the life she had treasured and awaken emotions she had struggled to suppress.

Unlike the previous times she died, this time she woke without fear. She lay still on the bed for several minutes, eyes closed, breathing slow and steady. She replayed the death in her mind, every second of it, letting the emotions spiral instead of pushing them away. A wide smile slowly spread across her face.

“Starry Night Game,” she murmured. “Offering a once in a lifetime experience.”

She opened her eyes, amused rather than shaken. “Don’t let me find a way to drag whoever is behind this into a level with me,” she added, then shrugged and got up. She was ready to scan the outside floor and leave when a sudden screech tore through the silence, blending with the piercing cry of a baby. The sound came from another floor. Ava froze.

Instead of panicking, she began to think.

Neither her questions to Player 2 nor Player 7 ’s questions to her had ever been fixating on the story itself. They were both trying to understand the hidden rules of this level.

What the ghost could do. What it could not.

A level could not be designed with an all powerful boss. If it were, every player would lose their life before ever reaching the passing score.

That meant there had to be limits.

The scream was unmistakably human, sharp with fear and shock. That meant a player. The baby’s cry was there again, just like both times she had died. That could not be a coincidence. She began to piece it together. Whenever the ghost killed, it cried out loud. But why? If it was meant as a warning, why did the cries not happen when the limbs roamed the building? Last night, the cry had been heard three times. Once when she died. Once on Player 2 ’s floor. And possibly once for Player 7.

She checked the time. Roughly ten minutes had passed since her death, factoring in respawn and the time she needed to steady herself.

What if the cry was not a warning, but a signal?

What if it marked the start of a timer?

There were safe rooms. That much was confirmed. But what if there were also safe periods?

Windows of time when players could move without encountering the ghost, or even meet it without being harmed. 

With three lives left and almost three hours to go, she opened the door without hesitation, determined to take advantage of the possible short safe period. She moved quickly toward the stairs and headed down to the second floor, the one where Janice lived. She was searching for a secondary fragment, like the first one she had triggered in the previous level.

She ran down the stairs, unbothered by the possibility of drawing the ghost’s attention.

If she met it and died, the hypothesis of a safe period would be disproven.

If it appeared and did not harm her, the theory would be confirmed.

If it did not show up at all, it was still a win. She would not lose a life.

As for the staff, she could deal with humans easily. The moment she heard the elevator, she could hide. And even if she ran into them head on, what could they really do? Ask for her student card and issue a warning? If they discovered it was her third, they would not throw her out at this hour. They would send her back to her room and tell her to leave in the morning.

But that would waste what little time I have left. I would just have to improvise something if I am caught.

Entering the second floor, she noticed two figures with familiar shiny signs rushing to the toilets.

She ignored them and adjusted her route, circling the floor instead. When no new system notification chimed, she decided to head down to the first floor. She still had about four minutes before the safe period ended, and there had been no sign of the ghost.

No sound. No movement.

When she reached the lounge, it was clear she was not alone. Player 7 stood near the elevator, lingering as if unsure where to go next. She pretended not to notice him and turned toward the library, surprised to find it still open. She slipped inside and moved through the tightly packed shelves, the smell of old paper thick in the air.

Reaching a dead end, she was just about to turn back when she noticed something glowing in the dark on one of the shelves. She raised the lamp and leaned closer, trying to identify it. It was a bookmark, she grabbed it. Upon closer inspection, the name Janice was beautifully written on it.

 At that moment, the long awaited system notification finally rang.

Ding.

Special item acquired, the condition of exact time overrode

New fragment triggered.
Do you want to rewind to the event that took place here five months ago?

Choose: Yes or No.