The First Test

The sudden echo of the slamming door reverberated through the room, sending chills down everyone's spine. Yuuto's breath caught in his throat as his mind raced, replaying the chapters from the book. He knew this wasn't just a refuge—it was a trap. The safe zones in Apocalypse Session always had conditions attached, and failing to meet them meant death.

Aya's voice broke the silence. "What is this place? Why did the door close?"

Yuuto stepped forward, cautiously inspecting their surroundings. The building was old and decrepit, with crumbling stone walls and dim lighting. Dust coated the floor, and the faint flicker of the lantern outside provided just enough illumination to see the eerie space around them. There were rows of long-forgotten pews, as if they had entered some kind of ancient, forsaken temple.

Kazuki was already moving toward the door, trying to pry it open. "We can't stay here," he muttered, gritting his teeth. "This place feels wrong."

"It's not supposed to be easy," Yuuto said quietly, flipping through the book once again. His fingers trembled as he scanned the pages. He found the chapter he was looking for. "In the novel, these safe zones always have a price. They test you. If you fail…"

He didn't need to finish the sentence. The weight of what was coming pressed on everyone.

Akari moved closer to Yuuto, her voice hushed. "What kind of test?"

Yuuto's eyes narrowed as he recalled the passage. "Each test is based on a fear or flaw of the people who enter. It's not just about surviving—it's about facing something personal. Something that breaks you."

Aya took a shaky step back. "This can't be real. How do we even know what the test is?"

Kazuki slammed his fist against the door in frustration. "We're not staying here! I'm not playing some twisted game!"

Yuuto raised a hand. "Wait. Everyone, just… calm down. We need to figure out what's happening first."

A low creaking noise filled the air. Slowly, the floor beneath them seemed to shift. The group froze, eyes darting to the floorboards. The dust stirred, and the air grew colder, thick with tension. Something unseen was awakening.

Then, the voice came.

"You have entered the Sanctuary of the Forgotten," it whispered, as if carried by the wind itself. It wasn't a single voice but a chorus of tortured souls, speaking as one. "Here, you will confront what you fear most. Only by passing the test may you leave. Failure… means eternity."

Aya's face drained of color. "What… what does that mean?"

"It's starting," Yuuto said, his voice low. He gripped the book tighter, eyes wide as the reality of the situation set in. They were no longer just running from monsters—they were facing something much more dangerous.

The room began to warp. The walls twisted, shifting like the pages of a book being turned. Shadows stretched and swirled, taking on unnatural shapes. Before anyone could react, the group was pulled apart—each student isolated in their own personal nightmare.

Yuuto's Vision

Yuuto found himself standing in a dimly lit hallway. The familiar surroundings of his high school stretched out before him, but everything was wrong. The hall was too long, the walls too close. The air felt thick and oppressive, like he was breathing through a wet cloth.

"Not this place," he muttered, heart pounding. He knew exactly where he was.

The hallway stretched on endlessly, each step taking him deeper into a nightmare he had tried to forget. As he walked, the sound of distant voices echoed down the corridor—faint laughter, whispers of mockery. He knew what was coming.

It had been years since the bullying. But here, in the twisted version of his school, the memories resurfaced. The jeers, the taunts, the feeling of helplessness. Yuuto had buried it all deep, convincing himself that it didn't matter anymore. But now, the past came rushing back, as if the walls themselves were mocking him.

The laughter grew louder.

Suddenly, figures appeared at the far end of the hallway—shadowy forms of the students who had tormented him. They were faceless, but their presence was unmistakable.

"You think you're smart, huh?" one of the figures sneered, its voice distorted. "Just a bookworm who hides behind words."

Yuuto's hands trembled. He had faced monsters in this world, but this was different. This was personal.

"I'm not that kid anymore," he whispered, though his voice shook with doubt.

The figures moved closer, their voices growing more aggressive. "You're still weak. You still hide. You'll never be anything more than a coward."

Yuuto clenched his fists, trying to push the fear down. He wasn't that scared, lonely kid anymore. But here, in this twisted reality, it was hard to believe that.

"Face it," one of the figures said, stepping closer, "you've always been alone."

Yuuto stumbled back, his heart racing. The hallway seemed to close in on him, the shadows stretching, reaching for him.

"No!" he shouted, slamming his hand against the wall. "I'm not alone anymore. I have people depending on me!"

For a moment, the shadows hesitated.

Yuuto took a deep breath, standing his ground. "I survived then, and I'll survive now. I'm not weak. And I'm not running away anymore."

The figures began to dissolve, their mocking voices fading into nothingness. The hallway returned to normal, and Yuuto found himself back in the temple.

Aya's Nightmare

Aya stood alone in a small room. It was eerily silent, save for the faint sound of her own breathing. The room was a mirror of her childhood bedroom—small, cluttered, and filled with shadows. A single lightbulb flickered above her, casting long, distorted shadows on the walls.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. It was her mother, her face twisted in disappointment, just as Aya had always feared.

"You've failed," her mother said, her voice cold and unforgiving. "You'll never be good enough."

Aya's hands shook. "No… I'm trying. I'm doing my best."

Her mother's face twisted further, a cruel smile forming. "You'll never amount to anything. You're worthless."

Tears welled up in Aya's eyes as the words cut deep. It was everything she had always feared—that no matter how hard she tried, she would never be enough.

"I… I can do better," Aya stammered, her voice weak. "I just need more time."

Her mother stepped closer, her eyes filled with disdain. "You'll never change. You'll always be a failure."

Aya's chest tightened, her vision blurring with tears. But deep inside, something stirred. A defiance she hadn't realized she had.

"No," she whispered, wiping her tears. "I'm not a failure. I'm stronger than you think."

The room began to shift, the shadows receding as Aya's resolve grew. The figure of her mother faded, and the oppressive weight lifted from her chest.

One by one, the others faced their own fears—Kazuki confronting his own insecurities about never being strong enough, Akari facing the loneliness that had haunted her for years. Each of them was tested, and each emerged shaken but alive.

When the group was finally reunited in the main hall of the temple, the atmosphere was tense. They had all been through their own personal hells, and the weight of it lingered.

"What... was that?" Aya asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Yuuto looked at her, his face grim. "It was the first test. This world... it doesn't just attack your body. It goes after your mind, your soul."

Kazuki clenched his fists, his usual bravado gone. "What happens now?"

Yuuto took a deep breath, clutching the book tightly. "Now... we move forward.