The beacon has been lit

Far beyond the city...

Beyond the winding mountain roads.

Deep within an ancient forest where sunlight barely pierced the dense canopy...

A lone wooden house stood in quiet solitude.

Only the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant songs of birds disturbed the silence.

Then—

Ring...

A telephone echoed through the house.

An elderly woman slowly looked up from her knitting.

She set the needles aside and picked up the receiver.

"...Hello?"

Silence.

No voice answered.

She frowned slightly, listening.

The line remained connected.

Someone was still there.

After a few moments, she quietly lowered the receiver onto the table without hanging up.

Instead...

She stepped outside.

Not far from the house, beneath the shade of towering trees, Yuzuki sat on the grass.

Tiny squirrels gathered around her as she scattered handfuls of nuts across the ground.

The old woman smiled faintly.

"Yuzuki."

The girl looked up.

"Hm?"

"phone."

Yuzuki hurried inside.

The receiver still rested on the table.

The line was still connected.

She picked it up.

"...Hello?"

Silence.

For several long seconds...

Nothing.

Then—

A soft voice.

Faint.

Almost drowned beneath static.

"...Mom..."

Yuzuki's fingers tightened around the receiver.

"...Take care."

Click.

The call ended.

"...Mom?"

Only silence answered.

Yuzuki slowly lowered the receiver.

Far above the endless clouds...

Beyond the sky itself...

Something watched.

Its unseen gaze rested upon the lonely house.

Upon Yuzuki.

Without moving...

Without speaking...

It simply watched.

Several kilometers away...

Inside the Metropolitan Police Headquarters.

The atmosphere inside the Chief's office was suffocating.

The Chief stood beside the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

Without turning around, he spoke.

"Tell me..."

"When is this case going to end?"

Silence.

He finally looked back.

His eyes settled on the young investigator standing before him.

"I've protected this investigation from the media."

"I've answered questions from the ministry."

"I've reassured the public."

"But my patience isn't endless."

Another silence.

"This is the last time."

"The next report I receive..."

"...better contain results."

The room fell quiet.

The investigator met his gaze without flinching.

"...I'll get it done, sir."

His voice was calm.

Cold.

Certain.

The Chief studied him for a long moment.

"...Dismissed."

The investigator gave a slight nod.

Without another word...

Hayato turned.

Opened the door.

And quietly left the office.

Yuna carefully uncapped the marker.

"Alright..."

"One by one."

She wrote her name first.

Yuna.

Nothing happened.

Hikari took the marker next.

Hikari.

Still nothing.

Sora smiled nervously before writing her own.

Sora.

Silence.

All eyes turned toward Eishin.

"...Your turn."

He picked up the marker.

For a brief moment...

His hand hesitated above the wooden board.

The polished surface almost seemed...

Warmer.

He dismissed the thought.

Slowly...

He wrote.

Eishin.

The final stroke had barely left the marker—

Click.

Darkness.

The ceiling lights died without warning.

Before anyone could react—

BANG!

The front door slammed shut.

BANG!

Every window in the apartment crashed closed.

BANG!

The bedroom door.

BANG!

The kitchen door.

One after another...

Every door in the apartment violently shut on their own.

The room trembled.

The sudden gust extinguished most of the lights.

Only a handful of candles remained.

Their tiny flames danced wildly.

Long shadows stretched across the walls.

"Mrrrrow!!"

Mochi's terrified scream echoed through the room.

His mouth was wide open.

His fur stood on end.

He was screaming...

Yet—

No sound reached them.

Nothing.

Not even a whisper.

It was as though the room itself had swallowed every noise.

An unnatural silence blanketed the apartment.

Hikari's breathing grew uneven.

"...W-What..."

Sora instinctively grabbed Eishin's sleeve.

Her face had gone pale.

Eishin remained frozen.

His heartbeat pounded loudly inside his chest.

Too loudly.

He could hear his own pulse...

Yet nothing else.

Across the table...

Yuna stared blankly at the Echo Board.

The excitement that had filled her face moments ago had completely vanished.

This isn't right...

No...

This isn't supposed to happen.

Her fingers slowly trembled.

She had watched countless videos.

Read endless online stories.

Scrolled through every discussion she could find.

Not one...

Not a single one...

Had mentioned anything like this.

A cold realization crept into her mind.

Something's wrong.

Something is terribly wrong.

The candlelight flickered.

Then...

Without anyone touching it...

The Echo Board trembled.

Just once.

Almost...

As if something beneath it had taken its first breath.

Everyone looked at one another.

No one spoke.

They all understood.

Whatever this was...

It had to end.

The darkness continued to spread.

It wasn't merely the absence of light.

It devoured it.

The candle flames burned just as brightly as before...

Yet their light reached nowhere.

The room shrank into a small island surrounded by an endless sea of black.

Yuna forced herself to breathe.

"...Everyone."

"Put your hand on the board."

One by one...

They obeyed.

Yuna.

Hikari.

Sora.

Three hands rested upon the wooden board.

Only one remained.

Eishin stared at the empty space.

For reasons he couldn't understand...

Every instinct told him—

Don't touch it.

His fingertips hovered above the board.

"...Eishin."

Yuna's voice trembled.

He closed his eyes.

Then...

He placed his hand on the board.

Nothing happened.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

The silence grew unbearable.

Then—

Sora's body suddenly stiffened.

Her pupils trembled.

Without warning...

She collapsed.

"H-Hey!"

"Sora!"

Hikari reached toward her—

—but his body froze halfway.

He couldn't move.

None of them could.

Even breathing became difficult.

The darkness around them slowly began to pulse.

Like...

Something enormous...

Was breathing.

Yuna's heartbeat pounded violently.

No...

This isn't the game anymore.

What...

...did we call?

Inside Eishin's mind...

Someone sighed.

Not loudly.

Not softly.

Just...

As though they had waited for an impossibly long time.

"...Hmm."

A pause.

"Finally."

The voice wasn't human.

It wasn't even singular.

Thousands of voices overlapped perfectly.

Young.

Old.

Male.

Female.

Each speaking the exact same words.

"The beacon has been lit."

Eishin's heartbeat stopped.

For just a single instant.

Then—

"The Higher Beings have heard."

Something moved.

Not inside the room.

Not outside.

Somewhere...

Beyond the sky.

Beyond the stars.

Beyond existence itself.

Something...

Turned its attention toward him.

The voice spoke one final time.

"Nothing escapes their gaze."

CRACK.

A thin fracture appeared across the Echo Board.

Not because it was breaking...

Because it was rejecting something.

CRACK.

Another.

The carved symbols blackened.

The wood began crumbling into ash.

As if centuries had passed in mere seconds.

The board had fulfilled a purpose it had never been created for.

Then—

It collapsed.

Not into pieces.

Into dust.

The darkness vanished.

Light flooded the apartment.

The ceiling lights flickered back to life.

Every slammed door slowly creaked open.

Sound returned all at once.

"MRRRREEEOOWWW!!"

Mochi screamed, bolting beneath the sofa.

Sora gasped violently.

Air rushed back into her lungs.

"W-What..."

"...What happened...?"

Before anyone could answer—

Hikari grabbed Yuna by the shoulders.

"What the hell was that?!"

His voice cracked.

"I thought this was some stupid internet game!"

"You said this was supposed to be harmless!"

Yuna wasn't listening.

She stared at the pile of ash where the Echo Board had once rested.

Her lips quivered.

"...No..."

"...No..."

"...This..."

"...This can't happen."

Tears began forming in her eyes.

"The board..."

"...doesn't break."

"It gets burned."

Silence.

No one spoke.

No one moved.

For the first time that night...

Everyone understood the same terrifying truth.

They hadn't finished the game.

The game...

Had ended them.

The lights inside the research ward had remained on for nearly three days.

Stacks of medical files covered every desk.

CT scans.

Blood reports.

EEGs.

Psychological evaluations.

Not a single result pointed toward a cause.

Dr. Aoi Nakamura, Director of Neurology, stared blankly at another report.

She hadn't slept.

Dark circles had formed beneath her eyes.

A half-finished cup of coffee sat untouched beside her.

Another page.

Another patient.

Another dead end.

"...Impossible."

She rubbed her temples.

"No virus."

"No bacteria."

"No toxin."

"No genetic mutation."

Every test had returned normal.

Yet...

The number of patients kept increasing.

She looked toward the isolation ward through the observation window.

Dozens of patients lay motionless in their beds.

Some stared endlessly at the ceiling.

Others whispered incoherently.

A few simply... watched.

As though waiting for something no one else could see.

She lowered her eyes to the final page of her report.

There was only one observation that had remained consistent.

A pattern.

One she couldn't explain.

She slowly typed the final paragraph.

Preliminary Observation

Patients show measurable improvement when placed in prolonged proximity to individuals exhibiting unusually high levels of empathy, emotional stability, and prosocial behavior.

Conversely, recovery slows significantly when isolated or surrounded by individuals displaying elevated stress, fear, or emotional instability.

The underlying mechanism remains unknown.

Further investigation is urgently required.

She leaned back.

"...This doesn't make any sense."

It contradicted everything medicine understood.

Yet...

The data refused to lie.

She printed the report.

Then picked up her phone.

The call connected almost immediately.

"...It's me."

A gentle voice answered from the other side.

"Aoi?"

She closed her eyes for a moment.

"The situation still isn't under control."

"You shouldn't come."

A brief silence.

"I won't be able to join you this time."

"...I understand."

Another pause.

"...Where's Yuzuki?"

A faint smile crossed the doctor's tired face.

"She's with Mother."

"Good."

There was relief in the voice.

"This isn't over yet."

"It still isn't safe for either of you to come here."

"I'll send the supplies tomorrow."

"The stall can still open."

"Mother can host it in my place."

"...Alright."

"And Aoi..."

"...Take care of yourself."

She smiled weakly.

"I'll try."

The call ended.

Dr. Aoi quietly looked back through the glass at the silent ward.

The hallway was silent.

Only the sound of Hayato's footsteps echoed through the corridor.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

He walked calmly, his hands tucked into his coat pockets.

Bzz...

His phone vibrated.

A notification.

He ignored it.

Bzz...

Another.

Before he could take it out—

Bzz... Bzz... Bzz...

The phone began vibrating continuously.

Hayato frowned.

He reached into his pocket and pulled it out.

Just as he was about to check the notifications—

The screen changed.

Incoming Call

He answered.