Morning didn't come. The lights just turned on.
Too harsh. Too white. Like an interrogation.
Some winced, others were already on their feet. I watched their faces. And those who avoided eye contact.
> "One of your classmates has received a new assignment."
That phrase wouldn't leave me. I looked at all of them—familiar, yet suddenly unfamiliar. Who? Why? Why now?
"You're not yourself," Mina said quietly as she approached. "Something happened?"
I shook my head. Silence isn't a lie. Sometimes—it's a necessity.
"Takumi," Aoi came over with a tablet. "We noticed something strange. The request you sent to the second floor last night was received… but it was distorted. Half the data was missing. As if someone manually cut it."
I took the tablet. The signal had gone through, but part of the information was gone. A system error? Or the work of the traitor?
"That's not all," she added. "One of ours—Hayato—went into the technical section last night. Without permission. Says he was looking for an energy leak. But that's not his area. And he told no one."
I nodded. Suspicion isn't proof. But it's already a reason.
—
Later, we gathered for a team task check. I noted how Toru avoided Hayato. How Kana was slowly drifting away from the group. And how Mina kept staring at a single spot, as if remembering something.
"We need something like surveillance," Aoi suggested. "Shadows watching from within. To track behavior."
"Observation without trust is already surveillance," I replied. "And distrust is exactly what they want."
> "In this trial, internal conflict is the most effective method of destruction."
I opened a new message on the terminal.
> "Time remaining: 18 hours. One of your own has already begun their mission. Every loss of control = minus one point. Hint: the traitor was in the food zone."
The food zone. Yesterday. That's when Toru argued. Hayato was there. But Kana also went in. And… Mina?
No. Not her.
Or?..
—
In the evening, I sat by the wall again. The silence no longer pressed down—it whispered. Names. Doubts. Moments.
Mina sat beside me.
"What if I'm the one you're looking for?" she asked.
I looked at her. There was no fear in her voice. Only calm. And sadness.
"Then you wouldn't say it."
She smiled. A faint, almost uncertain smile.
"What if I want you to start doubting?"
I didn't reply. Because that's the real strength of this tower.
It teaches you: sometimes, the enemy isn't someone else. It's the question. And it lives inside you.