He closes his eyes to escape from this dark reality, and at the same time, he hears the door creaking open, as if something has escaped with him.
He opens his eyes to see where he is. "S-so... it was just a reverie...?" he remarks, finding himself back in his room, where the luminous light makes him twitch. He still can't move, and as he tries: *Aggar...!* his heart feels a tightened grip.
At that same moment, the whisper returns, "So, you found it...?" The whisper echoes in his right ear. This time he sees a crow perched on his device, with no skin, no flesh, just a skeleton. It glares at Tochi through its sunken eyes, which hold a light devoid of hope. The skeletal crow's presence is almost comical in its absurdity, but the chill it brings is anything but funny.
*Buzzing* *Keeek* The noise from the device begins to attract his attention, drawing him away from the skeletal crow.
Tochi isn't sure what is happening, but he glances at the string of numbers rolling on the device. Gradually, one number reveals and halts, then another string of numbers rolls up and down and halts, as if someone or something is slowly toying with him.
But he has no time to waste. He shouts loudly but coldly: "3 6 9."
The whisper falls silent, but the crow continues to glare, making Tochi increasingly uneasy. He sees the crow move, flying towards him. Panicking, he stumbles back, blocking his head with both hands, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. His eyes close on their own, unable to bear what might come next.
*Agaah* His lips tremble with each exhale, his lungs feeling as if they are filling with rocks with each breath. Gradually, he opens his eyelids.
There is no crow, no one. Only Tochi remains, alone in his room, with nothing but his crushing loneliness and the lingering terror of what he had just experienced.
But the *buzzing* noise from the device continues ticking in his mind, so he looks forward: "What... is happening..." he murmurs, unable to find any logical explanation for the device's behavior. He watches as three numbers and a message display:
"....Depth is not far.....harmony only dismantles premonition....23 15 23....."
Tochi can't comprehend any of it. Adding to his dilemma, he starts to hear a low, faint audio: "Iwll Imnocg I...yymsu lkqjq pxpmx jksht vjqeb bx." He can only catch fragments of the mysterious audio.
A strange sensation washes over him. The atmosphere feels deflated, the air squashed. His body feels compressed, as if he's inside an invisible bubble. It’s as if the room itself is mocking him, a twisted joke at his expense.
He can't speak, the air trapped in his throat. He feels himself suffocating, strangulated, yet clings to hope as his right hand reaches for a strange rectangular box lying just inches away on the table.
He was continuing to try, he felt weakness, his vision was just hanging in a fragile state of perpetuity.
Oblivion seems ineluctable, closing in with an oppressive, inescapable finality.
Finally, with a desperate effort, he touches the box. His jittery hands tap the box's surface—upper left, lower right, then center. As he does, the surface lights up red for a moment, displaying the words: "Oscillations in Equilibrium." This final piece of information sears into his mind before he collapses into silence.
In his motionless body, the device begins to float in the air, spinning slowly. An unheard noise emanates from it, gradually clashing with the invisible bubble encasing Tochi, causing it to disappear. His body falls to the floor with a dull thud.
The device continues to rotate, as if it senses a presence. Something dark and unknown lurks, waiting in the silence, ready to reveal itself.
In a labyrinth of rooms, a squall hits Tochi's body, shredding his hair and causing his eyes to twitch in pain. He looks around and finds himself in a place both unfamiliar and hauntingly recognizable from childhood. "It can't be..." he murmurs, but a voice from behind interrupts him.
The voice sounds old, but shrieks with a pitch that makes Tochi cover his ears. "Why are you covering your ears--- Ohhh, pardon me." The voice shifts, sounding more like a normal human, eerily similar to Tochi's own voice.
Tochi's eyes widen, goosebumps prickling his skin. The voice, now calmer, continues, "I came. You should know. I've been waiting for the time of the donkey’s years." The odd phrasing leaves Tochi baffled and uneasy.
"Tochi. I'm right, aren't I?" The voice is softer now, almost soothing. "Perhaps you are ringing, bound by perpetuity... Well, if not, then why not answer me...Tochi?" The voice tries to invade Tochi's mind, leaving him lost for words.
Then the voice commands, "Intake," and something is thrown from behind. Tochi crouches down to pick it up, feeling a shiver of dread as he sees a medicine label marked 'Intake.' The voice, with a hint of mockery, says, "You recall those spurious medicines... huh, am I right?" The voice pauses, waiting for a response. "Silence means 'yes.' I'm right." The voice grows colder, more menacing.
Finally, Tochi manages to say, "I can't do anything. I'm powerless." The voice responds, "Huh... Powerless, you say? Aren't we all? But you didn't even try to induce. You know the result: 19,000 children lost hope and life..."
Hearing the voice blame him, Tochi can't bear it any longer. He closes his eyes, shaking his head frantically and repeating, "It's not my fault...!!"
The voice falls silent, its work seemingly done, but the silence is unnerving. Tochi's mind is flooded with memories of the incident and his fear of losing his job. He can't shake the feeling of powerlessness.
Suddenly, a hand on his shoulder jolts him out of his daze. He opens his eyes to see a face he never imagined he would encounter: the mechanical humanoid robot attached to the machine, crouched near him, its eyes glinting with a mysterious, almost mocking glow.
Tochi was now unable to distinguish between reality and surreal nightmares. His mind was fraying, hope slipping away. An audio from the mechanical humanoid startled him as it echoed near the wall:
"I was Anord." The voice went static for a moment, then resumed, "...before you were scared. I was the life you were so curious about. Haven't you always been trying to find me...?" The mechanical humanoid began to transform, its synthetic body melting before his eyes, reforming into something unimaginable.
"So, how's that?" Anord asked, his black shimmering form looming over Tochi. Tochi's body and mind felt as if they were being torn apart from within, a sensation of internal rebellion.
Seeing Tochi's distress, Anord closed his eyes and reopened them, though nothing was visible. "Forgive me, Tochi. My form is too chaotic for this plane of existence. So, I borrowed this mortal piece you created..." Anord's explanation was cut short by Tochi's desperate interruption:
"Why are you here?"
Anord's reaction was almost casual. "To take your consent."
Tochi, overwhelmed and confused, stammered, "For...w--what!?"
Anord replied, "I need to take vital parts from your body."
Terrified, Tochi asked, "Why??"
"Because your deathline is near," Anord stated flatly. Tochi's heart nearly stopped at these words. Anord fell silent, staring at Tochi for what felt like hours, as the oppressive quiet magnified Tochi's dread.
Then, unexpectedly, Anord burst into laughter, a sound that made Tochi feel as though death itself was mocking him. His mind began to hallucinate, spectres of death looming around him.
Anord finally spoke again, "I was just kidding." The shift was so sudden that Tochi felt a bizarre mix of anger and relief, a transient sense of safety.
But Anord continued, "I'm here to apprise you that entropy is impending..."
Tochi's fleeting relief was replaced by a heavy sense of responsibility. "W-what do I have to do?" he asked.
Anord's gaze intensified, his eyes morphing into mirrors that reflected an outline shrouded in tained shadow. "You have to become a cicerone for 'Mih.'"
Tochi struggled to comprehend who or what 'Mih' was. As if reading his mind, Anord added, "You will know soon. It is contingent on the lectos, whether they let it rest as a pallbearer or revive."