The next morning, as Luvia had advised, they leave the high-rise apartment and head to a place called "school" within the facility.

Though Io has seen schools before in her previous world, something about this place feels strange. It’s bright and cheerful-looking—oddly out of place in this sterile, controlled environment.

Children move through the halls, chatting and laughing with each other, as though they were in any ordinary school.

“I thought you’d be more surprised,” Luvia says, staying close to Io as they enter the bustling space. Her shyness seems to amplify in the crowd, and she sticks by Io’s side for comfort.

Io doesn’t mind, giving her an acknowledging nod. “Why would I be surprised?” she asks, casting a glance at Luvia.

Luvia scratches her cheek and glances away, a little embarrassed. “Usually, kids from the outer zones—like us—don’t see places like this. We’d never dream of attending school.”

Inner and outer residents, Io thinks, remembering snippets of information she’d pieced together. Each city here is divided into two parts: the Inner section, where the elite live—wealthy, powerful families, totaling no more than a hundred thousand in each city. Meanwhile, the Outer section is lawless, a slum where survival is counted day by day.

Luvia turns to her, eyes curious. “Are you from the Inner?”

Io remains silent, sensing that saying too much might risk exposing herself. She meets Luvia’s gaze without answering, letting the question hang in the air.

Luvia seems to understand and gives a small nod. “It’s fine,” she says, though her voice holds a trace of disappointment. Perhaps she’s realizing there’s more distance between them than she’d hoped.

“But…” Luvia starts, then hesitates before finishing her thought. “Just… don’t go anywhere suspicious,” she says, casting Io a worried glance.

Io takes in her concern and nods in response, sensing a genuine warmth in Luvia’s warning. She decides to move on, quietly appreciating Luvia’s cautious concern.

As they move through the facility, Luvia takes Io to a place where she registers and imprints a barcode on her arm. “This is for tracking points,” Luvia explains. “You can save them for daily needs or… even exchange them for a ticket to Paradise.”

“Paradise?” Io’s voice betrays a hint of interest, her curiosity piqued.

Luvia exclaims with excitement, "Paradise—it's a place where every dream comes true!

“Yes… but the price is very expensive,” Luvia adds on, scratching her head as she motions for Io to follow. They wind through several hallways until they reach the heart of the school, where an open playground sprawls before them. Luvia points to a red circle set in the center of the schoolyard.

“That’s the elevator to Paradise,” she says, her voice turning serious.

“There are a few ways to reach Paradise. One is to accumulate enough points to buy a ticket. Another is to be selected by the researchers each month.” Luvia glances at Io, hoping for a glimmer of interest, but Io’s face remains unreadable, showing no excitement.

“The only way to accumulate points is by attending classes. So—”

“I’m not interested,” Io cuts in, her voice flat.

“Ehhh…” Luvia groans, dismayed. “But you only get enough credits from registration to last a month!”

“That’s fine,” Io replies, unbothered.

Seeing there’s no changing Io’s mind, Luvia sighs. “Well, classes are about to start. I need to go.” She points toward a building on the opposite side of the playground. “That’s the cafeteria. You can wander around, but meet me there at lunch, okay?”

Io gives a brief nod, and as Luvia heads off, Io waits until the playground is empty before approaching the red circle. She examines the so-called “staircase to Paradise” with a faint, twisted smile.

The scent in the air is faint but unmistakable to her.

“Anomaly…” she whispers, almost with relish. Her smile darkens. Whatever this “Paradise” might be, she suspects it’s not the idyllic haven Luvia imagines. To Io, this school feels more like a factory—a place where people are raised, only to be sacrificed for something far more sinister.

"But paradise, isn’t it? … Did Chris name his group after that?”

Io shook her head, dismissing the thought. It was too soon to make assumptions.

She wandered aimlessly around the school, searching for any clues that might shed light on her strange situation. The campus, with its sterile hallways and oppressive quiet, seemed to mock her efforts.

Occasionally, she caught the guards watching her from a distance, whispering into their hand radios. Each time she approached the gates, they blocked her path, their polite smiles betraying no answers.

Frustrated and out of options, Io returned to the cafeteria, deciding to keep her appointment with Luvia.

As they sat down to eat, Io picked at her food, eating far less than she had the day before. The meals here never seemed to quell her hunger, and her dwindling appetite only deepened her unease.

Luvia frowned, her worry evident. “What’s wrong, Io? Did something happen while I was gone?”

Io shook her head quickly, ignoring her gaze.

“Really?” Luvia pressed, her voice soft but insistent.

Io found Luvia’s concern unnerving. They had only met yesterday—why did she care so much? The silence between them grew heavy, and when Io didn’t respond, Luvia lowered her eyes, fidgeting with her hands to mask her anxiety.

“I… I was thinking of checking out some classes this afternoon,” Io said, breaking the tension. “Can you show me around?”

Luvia’s face lit up, her previous gloom evaporating. “Hehe, I knew you’d change your mind!” she exclaimed, her smile as bright as ever.

“What’s on the schedule?” Io asked, trying to sound casual.

Luvia eagerly launched into an explanation of the afternoon’s subjects, her enthusiasm contagious. But as Io listened, she felt a creeping disappointment. These were the same ordinary subject she’d learned in her old world.

“What’s the point of teaching this stuff,” she thought bitterly, “when they’ll just use these kids for their experiments anyway?”

Her thoughts were interrupted when Luvia mentioned something different.

“Wait—Anomaly Studies?” Io asked, her interest piqued.

Luvia hesitated, her expression turning awkward. “Oh, that one. I don’t take it, but…” She paused, then brightened again. “I know someone who can help!”

Before Io could protest, Luvia dashed off, abandoning her half-finished meal.

Moments later, she returned with a familiar face: a blond boy with sharp features and an air of confidence—or perhaps arrogance.

“Chris,” Io muttered under her breath.

“Hey there,” Chris said with a lazy wave, his eyes assessing her.

Luvia beamed. “Io, meet Chris! He has perfect attendance in Anomaly Studies. He’s the best person to help you!”

Chris scowled. “But I don’t wa—”

Before he could finish, Luvia delivered a sharp jab to his stomach.

“Argh!” Chris doubled over, glaring at her. “Fine, fine! I’ll take her to the class!”

Luvia grinned triumphantly, ignoring his complaints.

---

After lunch, Luvia headed off to her afternoon class, leaving Io and Chris behind.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Io said, her voice calm but probing.

Chris scratched the back of his head, his expression weary. “I’m on my way to the class anyway.”

As they walked through the dimly lit hallways, Io studied him out of the corner of her eye. There was something different about Chris now. When Luvia was around, he exuded confidence, even charm. But alone with Io, he seemed distant, even cold, deliberately keeping a space between them.

Io didn’t press the matter, her attention wandering to the quiet hum of fluorescent lights and the faint, metallic smell that seemed to linger in the air.

The silence between them stretched awkwardly, and she noticed the occasional curious glance from passing students. Their stares grew so persistent that Chris finally broke the silence.

“How’s your first day been?” he asked, his tone disinterested.

“Fine,” Io replied, mirroring his lack of enthusiasm.

Chris sighed, clearly annoyed. A faint muscle twitched in his jaw, as though he was barely holding back his irritation.

Io, sensing his impatience, decided to shift the focus. “What about you, Chris?” she asked, her tone more curious this time. “Do you have an interest in anomalies?”

Chris avoided her gaze, his expression unreadable. “You could say that.”

His vague response only heightened Io’s suspicions. His body language screamed disinterest, and yet he was here, attending this class.

“He’s hiding something.” Io thought, watching him out of the corner of her eye. Whatever his reasons for attending, they weren’t as simple as curiosity.

Eventually, they reached a nondescript classroom door. Chris stopped and motioned toward a scanner embedded in the wall.

“Scan your code,” he said, gesturing to the mark on Io’s arm. “You’ll need it to get points for the class. Just a heads-up—teachers can deduct points for bad behavior.”

Without waiting for her response, he walked inside and took a seat in the front right corner of the room. Io followed, choosing a seat nearby.

Chris barely acknowledged her as he slid his arm under the desk. A soft beep sounded, and a holographic interface appeared above his desk. Io mimicked his actions, watching as the hologram flickered to life before her.

Minutes passed as other students trickled in. Despite the room filling with chatter, Io couldn’t shake the unsettling stillness that clung to the air. Something was off.

The bell rang, but no teacher appeared. Five minutes passed, then ten. Just as Io began to question whether the class would start, a voice broke the monotony.

“Sorry I’m late~”

The words floated in from the doorway, casual and carefree. A woman sauntered in, her movements unhurried. She looked to be in her late thirties, wearing a slightly wrinkled lab coat over casual clothes. Her demeanor was relaxed, almost too relaxed, as though she didn’t quite belong in a classroom.

Io’s stomach turned the moment she laid eyes on her.

The woman’s face is marked with a black cross of feathers, identical to the one Io had seen back in the mansion. The image shimmered, ethereal and otherworldly, like it didn’t belong in this reality.

Io’s heart raced as she glanced around. No one else seemed to notice the mark. The other students remained unfazed, chatting amongst themselves or idly tapping on their holographic screens.

“I’m the only one who can see it.” Io realized, her unease growing.

“Hi, everyone~” the woman greeted, her voice light and melodic. “I see we’ve got some new faces today!”

Her gaze swept across the room, lingering on Io for just a moment longer than seemed necessary. A chill ran down Io’s spine.

The woman approached the blackboard, tapping it lightly. A holographic screen materialized, overlaying the chalkboard’s surface. With a flourish, she wrote her name in elegant, looping script:

“Christiana.”

The name hung in the air, glowing faintly against the dark background.

“Welcome to Anomaly Studies,” Christiana said, her smile widening.

“Since we have so many new students, why don’t we start with the basics?” Christiana said, her tone teasingly light as she scanned the classroom. Her gaze settled on a boy in the back row.

“You~ Hmm, what’s your name again? Actually, never mind—it’s not important.”

The boy froze, startled by her bluntness. “I, uh—”

“How many levels do anomalies have?” she asked, cutting him off.

“There are—”

“Too slow,” she interrupted, her voice lilting with feigned disappointment. “Minus five points.”

The boy’s face fell as he sank back into his seat, eliciting a quiet ripple of unease through the room.

Christiana’s gaze swept the class again, her grin sharpening. Finally, she stopped at Chris in the front row.

“How about you, pretty boy?”

Io noticed the subtle shift in Chris’s demeanor. His face darkened, and his fists clenched under the desk. It was clear he loathed the nickname.

“There are seven levels,” he replied flatly, his voice low.

“Correct!” Christiana clapped her hands lightly, though her lackluster expression suggested she found no real joy in his answer.

She turned to the holographic board, which flickered to display a pyramid split into seven distinct colors: white, blue, purple, orange, red, gray, and black.

“Right,” she began, her tone more serious now. “Anomalies come in seven levels, each more dangerous and bizarre than the last.”

With a few deft movements, the pyramid expanded, and detailed descriptions of each level appeared.

The Levels of Anomaly

• White Level – Observation Only:
  Harmless yet unnerving. These anomalies seem content to watch, rarely interacting. Witnesses report feeling “observed” by unblinking, unfocused presences.
• Blue Level – Contained Hazard:
  Hostile within proximity, Blue anomalies can manipulate emotions and surroundings. Symptoms include creeping dread, faint whispers, and shadowy distortions.
• Purple Level – Active Predator:
  Aggressive and predatory, Purple anomalies target humans directly. They alter the atmosphere—plunging areas into cold or darkness—and paralyze victims with fear.
• Orange Level – Area-Wide Reality Distortion:
  These anomalies warp reality on a large scale, trapping areas in loops or unnatural states. Survivors report shared hallucinations and shattered perceptions of time.
• Red Level – Global Hazard:
  Capable of reshaping the planet, Red anomalies alter physics and ecology, plunging entire populations into chaos.
• Gray Level – Dimensional Threat:
  Gray anomalies defy logic, tearing apart dimensions and warping human cognition. Witnesses suffer irreversible mental collapse after exposure.
• Black Level – Inter-Dimensional Catastrophe:
  The pinnacle of destruction, Black anomalies ravage realities and infect entire planes of existence. They are unstoppable, spreading corruption with devastating speed.

“Now, write it down,” Christiana said, gesturing lazily at the board. “I won’t show it again.”

Io glanced around. Some students scribbled hurriedly, while others seemed too stunned to react. Christiana leaned back against the desk, exuding an air of utter disinterest.

Chris sat stiffly in his seat, his expression unreadable, though Io caught the faint tension in his posture. His earlier defiance had melted into quiet disappointment.

When the lesson ended, Christiana waved them off dismissively. “See you tomorrow.”

The students filed out silently. Chris left without a word, his shoulders stiff as he disappeared into the hallway.

Io lingered, watching Christiana from the doorway. Something about her felt off.

“That personality—it’s fake.” Io thought, narrowing her eyes. 

Her suspicions deepened when she saw Christiana speaking with a group of other teachers just outside the classroom. Their body language was striking—shoulders hunched, heads slightly bowed. They seemed… submissive.

Christiana smiled, but the sharpness in her eyes betrayed her. Whatever power she held over them wasn’t rooted in respect.

Io ducked out of sight, her mind racing. “What is she really hiding? And what role does she play in this twisted system?”

Io decided to tail Christiana after class, but it was a futile effort. As soon as Christiana stepped through the school gates, she vanished into the shadows beyond.

Left with no other leads, Io wandered aimlessly around the school grounds, her thoughts swirling with unanswered questions. The hours passed fruitlessly until the end-of-day bell rang.

Remembering Luvia’s earlier assurance that she didn’t need to wait for her, Io made her way back to the high-rise apartment alone.

Instead of returning to the room, Io drifted toward the area surrounding the apartment. She wandered the grounds, her senses on high alert for the enticing smell she’d noticed the previous night—the strange, sweet aroma that had haunted her dreams.

“I can’t smell it…” she muttered under her breath, frustration creeping in.

Her path eventually led her to the garden behind the apartment. At first glance, it was unremarkable—fake trees, artificial grass, and carefully curated flowerbeds.

But as Io moved deeper into the garden, a sense of unease settled over her. The air was heavy, as though the space itself held its breath.

Pushing forward, Io searched every corner until she spotted something metallic peeking out from beneath a small rock. Her pulse quickened.

She crouched down, gripping the rock with both hands. Even with all her strength, it barely budged. With a final heave, she managed to shove it aside, revealing a small, metallic door embedded in the ground.

A faint, sweet scent wafted up from the edges of the doorframe.

“It’s…” Io whispered, leaning closer.

Her fingers closed around the handle, but before she could turn it, a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t!”

Io spun around, startled, to find Luvia standing behind her, eyes wide with terror.

“Just don’t…” Luvia’s voice cracked as tears welled up in her eyes.

“Why?” Io asked, her tone steady despite the mounting tension.

Luvia didn’t answer. Her trembling hand pulled Io’s away from the door, and she began carefully repositioning the rock to cover it. The movements were precise, practiced—as if she’d done this many times before.

"She’s the one who hid this door." Io realized, keeping the thought to herself.

The two walked back to the apartment in silence, the weight of the encounter hanging heavily between them. As they reached the building, Io broke the quiet.

“Did I worry you?” she asked, glancing sideways at Luvia.

“You’ve been out there for five hours,” Luvia replied softly. Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed the lingering fear she felt.

“…Five hours?” Io blinked, realizing just how much time had slipped away.

The uneasy silence returned as they entered their shared room. They changed into their nightclothes without a word, the tension between them unspoken but palpable.

Io climbed into her bunk, feigning readiness for sleep, though her mind was far from rest. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts racing. Luvia and Chris are both hiding something. Too many secrets… Too many unanswered questions.

The light flicked off, casting the room in shadow. For a moment, all was still. Then Luvia’s voice floated down from the upper bunk, small and trembling.

“I think you’re smarter than me… someone from the outer parts of the city. That’s why…”

She hesitated, her words faltering.

“Don’t go near that door. Anyone who goes through it… never comes back.”

Luvia’s voice cracked as she continued, barely above a whisper.

“I don’t want to lose another—”

The rest of her sentence was swallowed by a loud sniffle, her breath hitching as she fought back tears. Io strained to hear more, but Luvia said nothing else.

The soft creak of the bed above signaled her turning over. A moment later, her breathing steadied, and the room fell silent once more.

Io stared into the darkness, her mind turning over Luvia’s words. Another? Another what—or another who?

The garden, the metallic door, Christiana, Luvia’s terror… Everything about this world was steeped in layers of fear and mystery.

---

After ensuring that Luvia had fallen into a deep sleep, Io slipped silently out of bed. The faint sound of Luvia’s steady breathing filled the room, masking Io’s soft movements as she crept toward the door.

She stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her without a sound. The world outside the room was steeped in oppressive darkness; even the faint glow of artificial lights that usually dotted the apartment complex was absent. To mimic the real world, they even simulate night.

The pitch-black corridor stretched out before her, forcing Io to tread cautiously. Her eyes adjusted slowly, and as shapes began to form in the shadows, a strange sensation prickled at the back of her neck.

Someone—or something—was watching her.

Io froze mid-step, the hairs on her arms rising. She whipped her head around, scanning the darkness for movement.

Nothing.

Her breath hitched as she tried to steady herself. She moved forward, her pace quickening, but the feeling persisted. A stare, heavy and unyielding. It followed her like a shadow. She spun again, straining her eyes and ears for any sign of her pursuer.

Still, there was no one.

Io’s fists clenched at her sides. "It's just my imagination. It has to be."

She forced herself to press on, focusing on her destination: the garden.

When she arrived, she was greeted by an unexpected sight.

The metallic door, which she’d last seen hidden and firmly shut, now stood ajar. Its cold, steel frame loomed in the faint moonlight, the darkness beyond it yawning like an open mouth.

Io stopped in her tracks, her heart racing. The faint, sweet aroma she had detected last night wafted from the doorway, stronger now. It wrapped around her like an unseen hand, pulling her forward.

A shiver ran down her spine, but her lips curved into a small, trembling smile. Fear gnawed at the edges of her mind, but it was drowned by the thrill of discovery.

"Whatever's down there… I need to know."

She stepped through the door, descending a narrow staircase. Each step echoed in the silence, the sound of her movements amplified by the stillness of the air.

At the bottom of the stairs, she found herself in a long, dark hallway. The walls were smooth and unmarked, their sterile surface reflecting the faintest glimmers of light from somewhere deeper within.

The air was heavy, almost stifling, and the sweet scent that had drawn her here was stronger than ever.

Io hesitated, her instincts screaming for her to turn back.

But she took a step forward.

Then another.

Her faint smile returned, though it wavered.

"No turning back now."

As Io continues down the hallway, the air grows colder, biting at her skin. The dim light behind her fades until the corridor is shrouded in a thick, impenetrable darkness. Shadows ripple across the walls, stretching and curling as if alive, their movements whispering secrets she cannot hear.

The feeling of being watched burrows deeper into her mind, no longer just a sensation but a presence—heavy, unrelenting. It clings to her like a damp shroud, wrapping around her neck and tightening with each step.

Her breaths come shallow, barely audible over the sound of her footsteps. Yet the silence presses against her ears, too loud, too sharp, a vacuum that devours everything but her heartbeat.

And then, faint but unmistakable, another sound breaks the quiet.

Footsteps.

Io freezes mid-step, her entire body tensing. The echo she hears isn’t hers—it’s softer, dragging, accompanied by an unsettling squelch, as if something wet and sticky is being pulled across the floor.

The shadows around her seem to thicken, pressing closer. Her pulse quickens as she forces herself to take another step, listening carefully.

The second set of footsteps follows.

The sound is wrong, unnatural, like bare feet coated in something viscous, leaving behind an unseen trail.

Io’s lips press into a thin line, her trembling smile betraying her unease.

“This…” Her voice wavers, barely louder than a whisper.

She takes another step forward. The squelching noise follows.

Cold dread pools in her stomach, a gnawing certainty sinking its claws into her. She knows this Anomaly. She’s known about it, faced it in the game.

She steadies herself, her voice firmer now as she begins counting aloud, her words a desperate anchor in the suffocating dark.

“One. Two. Three…”

The footsteps behind her continue to mirror hers, their wet cadence unnervingly precise.

“Forty-seven. Forty-eight. Forty-nine…”

She halts on fifty, her breath catching as she spins on her heel. The darkness ahead ripples like the surface of a black pool disturbed by an unseen hand.

“I found you,” she calls out, her voice sharp and deliberate, cutting through the oppressive silence. “It’s time to stop hiding now.”

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then, something shifts.

A shape begins to coalesce from the shadows, its form jagged and wrong, as though it’s being pieced together by an unseen force.

It’s small at first—a flicker of reflective light. Then the full form emerges: a ragged teddy bear, its fur darkened by damp, clotted stains. Blood spatters mottle its small body, and its stitched mouth curves into a grotesque grin. The hollow pits of its button eyes glint faintly, reflecting a light that doesn’t exist.

“Nihihihi.”

The laugh scrapes at her ears, a sound far too large and menacing to belong to the tiny creature. It reverberates through the corridor, sending chills racing down her spine.

Io forces herself to hold her ground, though her legs feel like lead. Her fingers twitch as she summons the fire in her eyes, her weapon.

But nothing comes.

“What?” Io stammers, panic lacing her voice as she tries again. Still, the power refuses to respond.

Her stomach twists, and she shifts her focus, summoning the book—the screen that held the rules, the key to her survival. It flickers into existence, its faint white glow illuminating the bear’s grotesque form.

A-00367
Rules Discovered:

1. If you meet A-00367, you have to play with it.
2. Count to 50 to finish the game once you find the whereabouts of A-00367.
3. ???????
4. ???????

Io’s heart pounds as her gaze locks onto the question marks. “This… This isn’t right,” she mutters, her voice trembling.

In the game, A-00367 was a white-level Anomaly—low risk, easily defeated. But this? The bloodied bear before her radiated malice, its stitched grin wide and hungry.

The bear tilts its head, and its shadow stretches unnaturally across the walls, reaching for her like long, skeletal fingers.

“Let’s play.” it whispers, its voice no longer childlike but deep, echoing, and saturated with menace.

The hallway begins to shift around her, the walls narrowing, pressing in as if alive. The sticky scent of decay fills her nostrils, and faint whispers brush against her ears, indistinct but mocking.

The screen in her hands flickers again, as though the Anomaly itself is toying with her. The undiscovered rules remain tantalizingly close, their outlines blurred, unreachable.

And as the bear takes a deliberate step forward, its wet, squelching footsteps echo louder than before.

“Nihihih, it’s time for me to find you.” the bloody teddy bear snickered, its glassy eyes glinting with malevolent glee as it turned its head toward Io.

Io’s breath hitched. Her mind raced, scanning her surroundings for an escape. She needed to hide.

“But where?” she whispered, her voice trembling. The hallway stretched in both directions, an empty, featureless corridor with no doors or alcoves. Her only options were to retreat the way she had come or plunge deeper into the oppressive darkness ahead.

The bear began its count, its sweet, sing-song voice dripping with malice.

“1…”

Io’s instincts screamed at her. Running back wasn’t an option. Something about that path felt wrong—like the door she’d entered would vanish if she tried to reach it.

“Then… the only choice is forward,” she muttered, steeling herself.

She turned and bolted into the blackness. The walls seemed to close in as her hurried footsteps echoed, overlapping with the bear’s steady counting.

“Hah… hah…” Her breath came in ragged gasps, her childlike body weak and trembling. Panic clawed at her chest, making it harder to breathe.

“20…”

Only 20? The distance she’d run felt endless, as though the hallway stretched infinitely. Time itself seemed to warp, each second dragging into eternity.

Io forced her legs to keep moving, her muscles screaming in protest. Finally, she stumbled into a room that stopped her in her tracks.

“What… is this?”

The room was grotesque, drenched in dried, sticky blood. The walls were adorned with severed teddy bear limbs, strung up on frayed ropes like macabre decorations. Their fur was matted and discolored, and their hollow button eyes stared blankly into the void.

In one corner, a heap of discarded teddy bears lay in disarray. Their heads were torn off, their faces stripped away as though flayed. The stuffing inside them spilled out like entrails, mingling with the thick, dark puddles of blood on the floor.

Io’s stomach churned, and she fought the urge to vomit. The air was thick with a metallic stench, mingled with the faint sweetness of decay.

“45…”

Her pulse quickened as the counting drew closer to its end. Desperation clawed at her mind. She darted to the pile of mutilated bears, pushing herself into the suffocating heap. The fabric was damp and cold, sticking to her skin like a second, clammy layer.

“50.”

Silence.

Io exhaled shakily, her trembling hands pressed to her mouth to stifle any sound. But then, faint and distant, a chorus of footsteps echoed through the hallway. Not just one set—dozens.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she peeked through a small gap in the pile. Silhouettes appeared at the entrance, eerily childlike in shape.

At first glance, they looked like ordinary girls. But Io’s blood ran cold as she noticed their movements—jerky and unnatural, like puppets dangling on invisible strings. Their heads tilted at odd angles, their limbs twitching as though manipulated by unseen hands.

Io pressed herself deeper into the pile, her body trembling violently.

“Find her!” the teddy bear’s voice commanded sweetly, echoing through the room.

The girls moved, pulling out rusted knives from their frilly dresses. Without hesitation, they began stabbing into the walls, the floor, and the piles of discarded teddy bears. The blades tore through fabric and stuffing, sending tufts flying into the air like snow.

Io flinched as the knives grew closer to her hiding spot. She bit her lip until it bled, her tears spilling down her cheeks as the fabric around her was ripped apart.

One stab. Two. Three. The blade sliced through her arm, and she choked back a scream. The pain was blinding, but she pressed her hand to the wound, trying to stifle the flow of warm blood.

The next stab drove into her leg, and this time, she couldn’t hold it in. A guttural howl tore from her throat, echoing through the room.

“Found you.” a sickeningly sweet voice chimed.

A small hand shot through the fabric, grasping Io by her hair and yanking her out of the pile. She screamed as she was flung across the room, landing in a crumpled heap near the teddy bear.

The pink-haired girl loomed over her, her small frame casting an impossibly long shadow in the dim light. Her face was a grotesque mask of stitched-together teddy bear fabric, its black button eyes glinting like dark voids.

“Found you.” the teddy bear echoed, its grin widening unnaturally.

The teddy bear tilted her head, As it studied Io’s face, its expression twisted into a frown.

“Defective product.” the teddy bear muttered, its voice dripping with disappointment. “Fix it and throw it away.”

The pink-haired girl dragged Io by her hair through the hallway, her inhuman strength forcing Io’s body to scrape along the rough, blood-streaked floor. Io thrashed, her small frame jerking and twisting in a futile attempt to escape. But the girl’s grip was unrelenting, her porcelain-like fingers digging into Io’s scalp as if they were claws.

The hallway stretched endlessly, its darkness oppressive and suffocating. Io's screams echoed off the walls, swallowed by the void around them, as though the very air was complicit in her torment.

The girl finally stopped, tossing Io onto the cold floor like a broken doll. Io tried to crawl away, but before she could move, a sharp, cold weight pressed against her face.

Io froze as the knife pressed into her skin, the blade biting cruelly into her flesh. The first cut was deliberate, precise, and excruciating. The pain exploded through her body as the girl carved intricate patterns into her skin, humming softly as if she were stitching a quilt. Io’s screams tore from her throat, raw and guttural, yet the girl seemed utterly unbothered, her humming growing louder as she worked.

“Arghhh!” Io’s cry echoed, the sound barely recognizable as human.

The knife moved faster now, ripping away patches of skin with a sickening schlick sound, leaving the muscles underneath exposed to the cold air. Blood poured freely, pooling beneath Io and staining the ground in a deep crimson. Her vision blurred, but the pain kept her cruelly tethered to consciousness.

The girl paused, her head tilting as if admiring her work.

Io barely had time to process the words before the blade hovered over her left eye.

“No… no… please…” she rasped, her voice barely a whisper.

Without hesitation, the blade plunged into her eye socket.

Blinding, white-hot agony consumed Io as the knife twisted, ripping her eye free with a wet squelch. The world plunged into darkness, but the pain continued, relentless and unyielding. She felt the knife move again, this time gouging out the other eye, leaving her trapped in eternal blackness.

Io’s body convulsed as sobs wracked her frame, but her tormentor showed no mercy.

The girl reached into her pocket and pulled out a tattered teddy bear’s face, its fur matted with old blood and grime.

Io’s screams turned to gasping, desperate whimpers as the girl began stitching the teddy bear’s face over her own. Each stitch drove a sharp, searing needle into her exposed flesh, every pull of the thread dragging her deeper into a nightmare of pain and despair. Her body jerked involuntarily with each puncture, the sensation of the needle pushing through raw, sensitive skin more than she could bear.

The stitching seemed to take an eternity, the girl’s deliberate precision ensuring that every stitch was agonizingly perfect. By the time she finished, Io’s body was trembling violently, her breaths shallow and ragged.

The girl stepped back to admire her creation.

She dropped the bloodied knife carelessly onto the floor, its clatter echoing faintly as she turned and walked away, her footsteps fading into the dark hallway.

Io lay motionless on the cold, blood-soaked ground, her body a ruin of torn skin and stitched horror. She couldn’t see, couldn’t move, but her mind remained cruelly awake, trapped in the endless abyss of agony and fear.

The silence closed in around her, broken only by the faint, distant laughter of the pink-haired girl as she disappeared back into the doll room.

Io was alive, but barely. And as the darkness swallowed her whole, she realized with a sinking dread that the nightmare was far from over.