Miss Satoshi’s voice was fierce, cutting through the suffocating silence that had fallen over the room. Her eyes burned with urgency as she grasped Alvia by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet. “The will to live. The will to get away. The will to be selfless. That is what you need to get away from the spirit,” she declared, her words resonating like the tolling of a funeral bell.

Alvia stood, trembling as Miss Satoshi’s grip anchored her. “Children, you must help your classmates the way you have helped each other. You must share this will with them, to give them the strength to escape the spirits’ grasp.” Her voice cracked, but determination hardened her features as she moved toward the elevator, each step like a final goodbye. “Go and save them, children. And take the pendants on the reception desk,” she instructed, the doors closing on her tear-streaked face. The click of the elevator echoed like a gunshot, sealing her away from them.

Alvia’s vision blurred with tears, but she wiped them away as she turned and sprinted to the reception desk. Her heart thudded erratically as she yanked open the drawer, eyes locking onto a pile of pendants, each glistening silver with a small cross. She draped one around her neck, the metal cold against her feverish skin, and handed the rest to her friends, their eyes wide and haunted.

She took one last pendant and turned to the gaunt figure that was Makoto. The spirit of the man who once toiled under the darkness, who now stared at her with a soft expression. She held out the pendant to him, hands shaking. “I don’t believe in these,” Alvia whispered, her voice cracking, “but if there’s someone watching over us, please… help us save innocent lives. Help us escape this madness.”

Makoto’s hollow eyes glistened with unshed tears for a moment, something almost father-like flickering in their depths. He reached into the pocket of his worn coat and pulled out a set of keys, their metallic jingle slicing through the silence. Stepping forward, he placed them in Alvia’s outstretched hand, his own icy touch sending a shiver down her spine. “Miss Satoshi and I… we are too old to fight. And the others here are lost to their dreams; they would never believe your story.” His voice was thin, but resolute. “Use this. Go and come back safe. I will be waiting.”

Alvia’s fingers closed around the keys, and she nodded, a silent promise passing between them. She looked back at her friends, their faces pale but determined. Without another word, they burst into motion, racing down the fire exit stairs, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the concrete stairwell, each beat matching the frantic thump of her heart.

The underground parking lot was a labyrinth of shadows, every corner steeped in the oily darkness that seeped through the cracked cement. But Alvia knew Makoto’s truck as well as she knew her own reflection. Its rusted frame loomed ahead, a familiar lifeline in this nightmare. She scrambled into the driver’s seat, the leather cool against her skin. The others climbed in after her, their movements tense and hurried.

The engine roared to life, a growl that shattered the silence. Alvia’s hands gripped the wheel, knuckles whitening as she pressed the pedal to the floor. The truck lurched forward, tires screeching as they tore out onto the narrow road. The city was a canvas of shadow, every street a corridor of whispered malice. The glow of streetlights flickered and died as they passed, leaving only darkness in their wake.

First aid kits and cartons stuffed with cotton lay scattered on the floor, a meager defense against what awaited them. Blood seeped from a gash on Alvia’s leg, soaking into her jeans, but she gritted her teeth, the pain a distant throb compared to the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

The truck hurtled through the ghostly streets, and the night seemed endless, an abyss that swallowed time and hope alike. Shane glanced behind them, eyes wide, as if expecting the shadows themselves to reach out and drag them back. The clock on the dashboard glared 3:00 a.m., but no hint of dawn touched the sky. The night seemed held in the grip of something ancient, a darkness that resisted the coming of light.

Subaru’s shout shattered the tense silence, sharp and panicked. “Emo! Erano!” His voice trembled as he twisted to look through the cracked side mirror. The others craned their necks, breath catching as they saw them—the figures of their classmates, distorted and grotesque, eyes glinting with a hunger that defied humanity.

They stood at the crossroads where Alvia and the others had fled before, their faces twisted into mockeries of smiles, lips split and bleeding. Sora stepped forward, her skin as pale as moonlight, eyes dark pits that glistened with malice. Her smile wavered, forced and sickly, as she called out. “Listen… let’s end this, okay?” Her voice was syrupy, each word dripping with malevolence. “We’ll kill you, and we’ll remember you as our dear friends.”

The night air crackled with tension, the silence shattered only by the hum of the engine and the ragged breaths of those in the truck. The spirits stepped closer, feet dragging across the asphalt, nails scraping against the ground like talons. Alvia’s heart slammed against her ribs as she gripped the wheel tighter, her pulse pounding in her ears. They were trapped in the tightening grasp of the haunted night, and the road ahead offered only darkness and dread.

Jetto’s voice rang out, sharp and defiant. “No! There is a way! All you have to do is trust and not hurt anyone!” His eyes were wide, glistening with urgency as he pressed his hands against the window, his breath fogging up the glass.

A sob wracked Yu’s chest, her tear-streaked face contorted with anguish as she turned on him, her voice raw and cracking. “Shut up! We all read the story! We must kill someone!” The desperation in her words made them quiver as they hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Jetto clenched his jaw, fists balled at his sides as he retorted, “That story is a phony! It’s not true! It’s not what is supposed to happen! This is how the spirit wants to kill everyone!” His shout carried a note of defiance, but his eyes flickered with fear.

Alvia’s heart thudded like a drum, each beat harder than the last as she pushed open the door. “Please trust us,” she said, voice shaking but steady enough. She slid out, her feet hitting the ground, and a hand shot out to grab her wrist. Subaru’s fingers dug into her arm, his eyes wide with terror.

“No. It’s dangerous. They might harm you,” he said, a plea underlying the tightness in his voice.

Alvia met his gaze, her expression softening as she gently pried his hand away. “Hold the steering wheel,” she whispered. “We’ll leave as soon as I persuade them.” Before Subaru could protest, she pulled away, closing the door behind her. The world outside the truck felt colder, the air clinging to her skin like frost.

Taking a steadying breath, Alvia walked to the front of the truck, the headlights casting long, ghostly shadows that made the night around them dance. She moved to the side, facing the group that stood there, eyes wide and weapons clenched. Emo’s knuckles were bone-white as she raised a small knife, eyes gleaming with frantic determination. Without hesitation, she swung.

Instinct drove Alvia to lift the box in her hand. The blade pierced through it with a harsh thunk, missing her face by mere inches. The force sent a shiver up her arm, but she held firm, staring into Emo’s wild eyes.

“Emo, listen to me,” Alvia said, voice hoarse yet unwavering. “All you have to do is trust us. If you’re not safe after this, I will die for you. Do you understand?”

Emo’s face twisted, her lips pulling back in a snarl that wavered with emotion. She yanked the knife free, its sharp edge gleaming with a cold, lethal promise. Yu’s shoulders trembled as she stepped forward, eyes glassy with tears. “Everyone is scared of death, Alvia,” she said, her voice splintering like glass. “Let us just get it over with. I really want to go to college. I want to fulfill my dreams. I want to see my parents…” Her voice dissolved into sobs, tears streaking her cheeks.

Alvia swallowed, the weight of their fear pressing down on her chest. “And you will. If you do as I say.” Her gaze swept across them, meeting eyes full of doubt, anger, and desperation. “Be brave. The determination you’re showing now to kill us—use it instead to love us, to trust us, to be selfless. Please, I’m begging you.”

Elicy, standing at the edge of the group, clenched her fists so hard her knuckles cracked. Her eyes narrowed as she stepped forward. “How do we trust you? What if this goes wrong and you betray us? You won’t let us kill you then, will you?”

The question stung, but Alvia didn’t flinch. Instead, she let the box fall from her hand. The thud as it hit the ground was almost lost in the tense silence. Slowly, deliberately, she reached out and grasped Emo’s wrist, the one still holding the knife. The blade was cold against her palm as she guided it to her own arm.

With a swift, decisive motion, she dragged the knife across her skin, a thin line of red beading up almost instantly. The collective gasp that followed echoed in the stillness, cutting deeper than any blade.

“I want everyone to live,” Alvia said, her voice barely a whisper, each word strained and laced with pain. “Because the pain of losing someone you love is too much to bear.”

Sora’s face crumpled, a sob tearing from her chest as she dropped the wooden stick she’d been holding. It hit the ground with a hollow clatter as she stumbled forward, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her fingers splayed over the cold metal of the truck, and she looked up at Rester, eyes wide and pleading. “I can’t do this, Rester-kun. I don’t want to hurt anyone either,” she choked out, the weight of her emotions breaking her voice.

Rester, who had been watching with clenched teeth, felt a release wash over him as he nodded, relief softening the hard lines of his face. One by one, the others lowered their weapons and climbed into the truck, the air thick with a fragile sense of hope.

They steeled themselves for the drive back, hearts thundering with a shared resolve. No one spoke, but a silent promise connected them all—an unspoken agreement that they would fight not with blades, but with trust. And with that, the truck roared to life, carrying them away from the crossroad that had nearly claimed them, into the dark unknown where they hoped to find salvation.