It takes Io a while to reach the clinic. Unlike the sterile white walls she expected, this one is painted in deep crimson and shadowy tones, casting an unsettling gloom over the place. The air feels heavy, oppressive.

As she steps inside, her eyes fall on the doctor and nurse standing stiffly near the entrance. They barely react to Luvia, unconscious in Io's arms or Io’s current appearance. Their blank expressions are unnerving, their indifference chilling.

It isn’t until Io carries Luvia into the doctor’s room that someone—a young trainee who barely looks qualified—finally acknowledges them. Without a word, he gestures for Io to lay Luvia on a nearby bed.

Outside the room, Io notices the other teachers lingering in the hallway. Their cold, piercing stares make her stomach twist, as though she’s done something unspeakable. She doesn’t understand their hostility, but it clings to her like a suffocating fog.

The trainee, now tending to Luvia, mutters something under his breath. Io hears it clearly and freezes.
"Again, huh? This one's a burden. If it weren’t for..."

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but the disdain in his tone is unmistakable. His gaze shifts to Io—cold, accusing, as if blaming her for Luvia’s condition.

“Fine. I’ll go,” Io snaps, her annoyance masking the unease bubbling beneath the surface. She turns sharply and leaves, trying to shake off the suffocating tension.

As she exits the clinic, a sickly metallic scent clings to her nostrils. Her steps falter as the realization hits her.

"The smell... it’s blood. This place reeks of it."

To Io, this is no ordinary clinic. It feels more like a slaughterhouse

---

Io leaves the clinic behind, her steps light, almost playful, though her mind hums with calculation.

"They’ll notice soon. That camera probably caught me back in the researcher’s room," she muses, her lips curving into a faint smile. "I should see more before they catch up."

As she moves upward, she encounters David. His stride is purposeful, flanked by two lackeys she doesn’t recognize. They’re different from the ones she saw before—more rigid, more disposable.

David meets Io’s gaze for the briefest moment, his expression unreadable, before he and his lackeys disappear into the clinic.

Io tilts her head, watching them go. "What do they need in there?" she wonders, curiosity flaring. But the thought slips away like water through her fingers, her attention snagging elsewhere.

David’s appearance gives her an idea. "Their settlement… What does it look like?" she whispers to herself.

But before she can take another step, two figures emerge from the shadows, blocking her path.

“You are Io,” the boy says flatly. His black hair is unkempt, and his face so plain it feels like a placeholder. Beside him stands a girl with dull brown hair, equally unremarkable. Their mediocrity is almost surreal.

“Master Chris has summoned you,” the girl says, her voice cold and mechanical, as though reading from a script.

Io blinks at them, her lips curling into a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Oh?” she chirps, tilting her head. “Master Chris wants me? How sweet!” Her tone is light, airy—childlike. “But… I don’t wanna.”

The boy’s eyes harden. “Is that a no, Miss Io?” he growls, his voice sharp now.

“Why should I follow you?” she counters, her voice sing-song, as if she’s playing a game they don’t understand.

His patience snaps. Without a word, he draws a gun, leveling it at her.

Io’s eyes widen in mock surprise. “Ohhh, a gun!” she exclaims, her hands clapping together in feigned delight. “You think that’ll work?” Her giggle is soft, almost sweet, but it echoes unnaturally in the quiet hallway.

The boy hesitates.

Still smiling, Io steps forward, wrapping her fingers around the barrel. She pulls the gun to her forehead with a deliberate, almost tender motion. Her bright eyes lock onto his.

“Go on,” she whispers, her voice lilting like a nursery rhyme. “Shoot me. Right here.”

The boy’s confidence falters. As he stares into her eyes, something shifts. Her face begins to warp, her features twisting into something unspeakable.

Skin stretches and bubbles in his vision, her smile splitting impossibly wide to reveal rows of jagged teeth. Her eyes, once bright, turn hollow and hungry.

“A-aah…” he stammers, his hand trembling.

Io tilts her head, the smile never leaving her face. “What’s wrong? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Her voice is the same, soft and innocent, but to him, it feels like the walls are closing in. The grotesque image of her burns into his mind, and the air around her grows suffocating.

“AAAAAAH!” The boy screams, dropping the gun with a clatter. He stumbles back, his legs nearly giving out before he turns and bolts, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

The girl blinks, frozen in place. “What… What are you doing?!” she shouts, panic creeping into her voice.

Io turns her gaze to her, tilting her head slowly. For the girl, Io looks perfectly normal—sweet even—but the boy’s terror is infectious. Without another word, the girl spins on her heel and chases after him, leaving Io alone.

Io watches them go, a pout forming on her lips.

“It only works on one at a time…” she murmurs, scratching her cheek with one finger, as if pondering a puzzle.

Her expression brightens with childlike glee. “I bet it’ll get better if I die more!” she chirps. Her voice is cheerful, but there’s something deeply wrong in her tone, an innocence that feels rotten.

For a moment, Io gazes at her hands, flexing her fingers thoughtfully. Deep down, she knows the truth. Each time she dies, she changes—pieces of her humanity slipping away.

"Now, all I need to do is wait…"

Io hummed softly, her voice lilting like a child’s lullaby as she nestled herself against the gnarled bark of an ancient tree. The artificial light kissed her platinum hair, making her look almost angelic—if not for the shadow curling unnaturally at her feet.

"To wait for the mastermind to appear…"

Her pale lips curved into a sweet smile, but her eyes glinted with something darker. When Chris stepped into the clearing, his confident stride faltered. His gaze locked onto Io, and unease crept up his spine.

"My, my. Who do we have here?" Chris’s tone was smooth, but his frown betrayed his discomfort. Io looked… wrong. She wasn’t the same girl from yesterday.

Before Chris could say another word, Io’s head tilted, her gaze locking onto his. Her delicate smile didn’t falter, but the air around her shifted. Chris felt it immediately—the creeping cold, the weight of invisible eyes crawling up his back. His hands began to tremble.

Io’s soft giggle broke the silence. "Oh? Are you scared already, Chris?" she asked, her voice light and curious, like a child finding a new toy.

Chris’s instincts screamed at him to run, but his feet remained rooted. He clutched the crow-emblazoned amulet around his neck, desperate for protection. The polished emblem darkened in his grip, the blackness spreading like ink.

"Ah…" Chris’s breath hitched, and his knees buckled beneath him. He fell to the ground, trembling.

"Greetings, Investigator of the Crow…" he choked out.

Io’s smile widened, her innocent curiosity now tinged with delight. The title intrigued her. She’d heard whispers of it in the game world—Investigators wielded fragments of Anomalies, twisted powers that made them both feared and reviled.

But Io wasn’t an Investigator. Not really. Still, pretending to be one could be… fun.

"I didn’t know I was so famous," she said, her tone playful, her hands clasped behind her back as she leaned forward slightly. "Did I scare you that much, Chris?"

Chris kept his head bowed, his voice shaking. "I suspected… there was something strange about you. But I didn’t realize you were one of them."

"One of them?" Io repeated, giggling softly. "How silly. You’re making me sound so scary, Chris!"

Reaching into his bag with trembling hands, Chris pulled out a stack of documents and placed them before her. Io crouched gracefully, her fingers brushing over the pages.

"Hoh~ The discrepancies in the number of kidnapped victims… the missing database codes… tampered footage." She looked up at Chris with wide, gleaming eyes. "You’ve been so busy!"

"These are the leads, Investigator," Chris said, his voice steadying slightly. "Once you act, no one will question your authority—or your existence."

"Is that so?" Io’s tone grew softer, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. Something about this felt… off.

"Tell me, Chris," she murmured, standing slowly. "Was this all for me? Did you create this little stage for my entertainment?" Her smile was sweet, but her words dripped with venom.

Chris flinched, his breath hitching again.

"If that’s the case," Io continued, taking a step closer, "then maybe I should tear it all down. Destroy your precious setup and make something better. Something more… fun."

"Investigator, I—"

"You know why I’m here, don’t you?" Io interrupted, tilting her head. Her voice was soft and airy, almost playful. "Don’t make me ask twice."

Chris clenched his fists, his head bowing lower. "Your source must be wrong. Our lab… we’ve committed no taboos."

"Did I ask for your excuses?" Io snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. Then, as quickly as her temper flared, it vanished. She crouched before him, her face inches from his, her eyes wide and shimmering with false innocence.

"You know what to do, don’t you, Chris?" she whispered, her voice as soft as a lullaby. "I want to see it with my own eyes. Show me everything."

Chris hesitated, sweat beading on his brow. "Shall I inform the head researcher?"

Io’s smile returned, sweet and serene. She raised a finger and pressed it lightly to his lips. "Shh. No one else needs to know. This is our little secret, okay?"

Her voice was cheerful, but her eyes… her eyes were voids of cold malice. Chris nodded weakly.

"In two days," he stammered. "I’ll let you witness everything yourself."

"Good~" Io chirped, standing upright. "I’ll hold you to that, Chris."

Her figure vanished into the shadows, leaving Chris alone in the clearing. As soon as she was gone, his trembling stopped. Rising to his feet, his entire demeanor changed.

"BLUE grade, at most," he muttered, a smirk curling his lips. "She’s nothing more than a rookie Investigator."

His eyes glinted with cruel intent as he turned toward the darkness. "You want to play, Investigator? Fine. Let’s see how you handle the PURPLE Anomaly. I’ll make sure it’s a show you’ll never forget."

He disappeared, his laughter low and menacing.

---

By the time Io finishes her conversation with Chris, school has already ended. She notices clusters of students walking back toward the towering high-rise apartments. A few steal glances at her but quickly look away when she meets their eyes.

Weird.

Io tilts her head, confused, until she realizes she’s still draped in the poorly fitted, haphazardly torn clothes from the male researcher’s room. The people she encountered earlier didn’t seem to react much, so she nearly forgot. Shrugging off the stares, she continues walking at an unhurried pace.

On the way back, snippets of conversation float toward her from passing students.

“Did you hear? They blocked the garbage room.”
“Yeah, so sudden... why?”
“Not sure, but some say they heard voices... like someone talking—”

Io’s ears twitch as she listens briefly before dismissing it and heading to the tenth floor. She glances at her arm, only to realize something is missing.

“Ah... I’ve already lost the code,” she mutters to herself.

At her destination, she knocks on the door, hopeful that Luvia has returned. Moments later, the door creaks open hesitantly. Luvia peers out, her expression shifting to surprise when she sees Io.

“May I come in?” Io asks.

“Yes...” Luvia steps back, her voice soft, and allows Io to enter.

Even though morning’s events are behind them, Luvia keeps her distance, avoiding eye contact. Io pretends not to notice. She tosses the ragged clothes aside and changes into a comfortable set of pajamas.

When Io steps out of the bathroom, Luvia finally gathers enough courage to speak.

“Io...”

“Hm? What is it?” Io meets her gaze, curiosity flickering across her face.

Luvia hesitates but presses on. “I... I’m sorry. It’s true—I tried to replace you with someone else. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Io is taken aback by the apology. She regards Luvia quietly for a moment before responding.

“It’s fine. Just don’t make the same mistake again.”

Relief washes over Luvia’s face, but Io’s expression grows serious.

“Let me give you some advice,” Io says firmly. “Don’t cling to the past. It’s better to move on... trust me.”

Luvia looks down, conflicted. “I... I’m still waiting for my sister. Maybe she’ll come back someday.”

Io narrows her eyes slightly. “Chris confirmed this?”

“Yes,” Luvia replies with a small nod. “He said so.”

Io frowns inwardly. That man cares far too much about Luvia. And the fact that he’s so involved in her sister’s disappearance... suspicious.

Though Io initially didn’t care about Luvia’s missing sister, Chris’s connection piques her interest. Lightening her tone, she strikes up a more casual conversation. Gradually, Luvia’s unease fades, and a genuine smile graces her lips.

“My sister... Olivia,” Luvia says suddenly, opening a small box. Inside are a ring and a few worn photographs.

“Olivia, huh...” Io murmurs, picking up a picture.

The girl in the photo is seated in a wheelchair, around sixteen years old, with striking pink hair and delicate features.

“She was so brave,” Luvia says wistfully. “When I was a child, something terrible happened... If not for her, I wouldn’t even be alive. But...” She touches the wheelchair in the photo, her voice trembling. “She paid the price. The incident cost her a leg.”

Luvia forces a shaky laugh, though tears begin to form in her eyes.

“I promised myself I’d take care of her, to make up for it. But when she was chosen for Paradise, I thought she’d finally be happy. Then... she vanished the day before.”

Io listens in silence, picking up the ring from the box. It’s engraved with the letters “LOD.” Finding nothing unusual, she places it back.

“All I found was her wheelchair... right outside the door you discovered in the garden, Io.”

So, Luvia was the one who blocked that door. Io’s suspicion solidifies.

“I... I didn’t have the courage to go after her,” Luvia continues, her voice breaking. “I’m too scared of what’s down there. Too useless.”

Io shakes her head and places a hand on Luvia’s back.

“You’re not useless,” Io says softly.

“Thank you...” Luvia sniffles, tears streaming down her face.

Io says nothing more, simply staying by Luvia’s side as the girl weeps.