Reminiscence

"What the f**k do you mean they got instantly torn apart when they tried to leave?" asked Takumi, his voice sharp, reverberating through the dimly lit room. He leaned against the chipped wall, his fists clenched tightly, knuckles white with tension.

Yukimiya huffed, crossing his arms as he paced back and forth. "I mean they're dead. What else could I possibly mean? Any exit out of the city is probably crawling with those things. You can go check if you want, but it won't make a difference."

Takumi's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Isamu stood, the legs of the old wooden chair scraping against the floor. "Maybe the game needed all the players in the city for the fourth stage," he said, his voice calm but firm. "We should still probably go and check either way. Even if it's a slight chance, we have to take it."