Sakimura flicks the light switch. On, then off, then on again. The fluorescent light bulbs embedded in the ceiling refuse to light up, leaving the office in a state of permanent gloom. “Is the power not working in this room?” he asks. You glance at the blinking multicoloured lights on the computers – the answer is rather obvious – but say nothing.
Maeda walks over to one of the sleek desktop machines and moves the mouse, jolting the computer from its hibernation. Her face is lit up with a pale blue glow. “The password is…” Her eyes dart to the sticky notes placed all around the monitor. “Let’s try that one.” The keyboard breaks the silence with a clicking noise as Maeda’s fingers dance across it. She taps the final key with a flourish. A revolving hour-glass appears on the screen for a brief second before the log-in screen fades away, granting her access to the computer.
“Wow, that was great, Nami-nee!” exclaims Sakimura.
“Call me that again and I will remove your testicles.” Maeda turns her attention back to the computer and begins searching through the folders.
“The files should be organized by keywords,” comments Mori quietly.
“Yes, yes, I know,” sighs Maeda, scrolling through a dozen windows quickly while the cursor darts around the screen with expert control. The Kaimei heiress is surprisingly good with computers – it is certainly unexpected to you, considering her appearance. “Here, this is what we should have on Shinichi’s project.” She opens up a database application detailing the multiple research projects carried out in the hospital, and searches for Taketatsu’s name. You draw in closer to take a look at it, pushing your spectacles up in anticipation.
Project: Observation and Digitization of Neural Patterns in a Quantum Computing System
Clearance level: High
Budget allocation: N/A
Physical space allocation:
Laboratory 3-7
Laboratory 3-8
Room B4-13
Project Lead(s):
Dr. Shinohara Juuzo
Dr. Bryan Cooper
Dr. Usui Hiroki
Taketatsu Shinichi
Summary:
Neural patterns and connections are the basis of a sapient organism’s cognitive processes. The ability to directly observe, translate and replicate such complicated patterns will be tested in this project.
You murmur the title of the project in a hushed voice. Does it sound familiar to you? You cannot remember. The soft, sweet breath of a girl blows by your ear, and you jump with a start. Uehara has snuck up behind you, peering closely at the screen over your shoulder.
“Sorry,” she smiles, “I just wanted to take a look too. It’s quite complicated, isn’t it?”
Maeda speaks, “That’s what Shinichi was working on. Of course, they called it the soul.”
“Soul?” asks Mori. “You mean… a person’s spirit?”
“Yes. If my memory is correct, Shinichi once implied that the American researcher, Cooper, brought over some data from his partners over at IAE indicating that observation of the human soul was possible via the brain. They had some crackpot theory that observation was necessary for existence, some bastardization of quantum physics that I can't believe ever got funding.”
“That sounds ludicrous. Can the soul even be measured like that?” asks Sakimura disbelievingly.
“Exactly. As far as I’m concerned, they’re just attempting to look at brain patterns and call it the soul. I never liked this project in the first place. It doesn’t even seem to have borne any fruit in the past five years,” sighs Maeda. “Which was why I wanted to inspect it more closely for any irregularities.”
You can understand her concerns; she probably does not want her family to throw the last of its fortunes into what might end up being some sort of complicated money-laundering operation. But still, there are some questions left to be answered. “I’m sorry, Maeda-san, but the summary seems quite brief compared to some of the other projects,” you point out.
“That’s… true,” frowns Maeda, scrolling through the list.
“There is also a name that seems out of place there… Dr. Usui Hiroki,” you continue.
“Why, what of him?”
“His staff card shows him as a doctor assigned to the general wards,” you explain. “I think you will remember him as the dead doctor who… attacked us earlier.” The memory of the event causes your wound to twinge – the hand has gone mostly numb by now, and your fingers are finding it hard to even move, but since you have disinfected it as well as you can, you will have to let your natural healing do the rest.
“Ah. Him,” scowls Maeda. “Thank you for reminding us, Shinoseki-san.”
“I suppose,” muses Mori, “it
is strange that one of the project leaders would be doing daily rounds in the general wards. Well-spotted, Shinoseki.” He walks a short distance away, leaning against the doorframe. “Right. Well-spotted,” he mutters, staring into empty space.
“If we are pursuing this further, maybe we should investigate this particular room,” suggests Uehara suddenly. “There. Room B4-13. That’s in the basement, right?”
“They would probably keep the detailed records in the laboratories upstairs. I’ve been there once; they have their own offices in the laboratory area,” says Maeda. “I’m not sure the basement room will be of any help.”
Uehara giggles. “What is the basement room for, then?”
Maeda is stumped as she tries to think of a reason. “It’s… for their research, obviously.”
“Yes, but for
what part of their research exactly? I think we should head there instead.”
“The keycard-“
“Dr. Usui was a project lead,” interrupts Uehara. “Shinoseki-san said that just now. Didn’t you? You
do have the keycard, right?” She turns to you, a pleasant smile still on her face. “I’m sure you have that, at least.”
“Y-Yes, I do,” you nod quickly; you cannot help but back away under the force of her personality.
Uehara claps her hands together. “Perfect!”
“Oh, have it your way,” sighs Maeda. “I hardly care either way.” Throwing her hands up in the air, she turns back to the computer. Her finger stops a single button press away from shutting down the computer. “Wait… since I’m here…” she mutters, and begins typing. You glance at the screen: she is inputting a name.
Shinohara Seiji.
“Shinohara… Seiji…” you murmur under your breath.
“Hm? What did you say, Shinoseki-san?” Uehara asks. You weren’t aware that she was paying attention to your mumbling.
And isn’t her hearing a bit too sharp? you think uncharitably.
“I… uh… I was just looking at what Maeda-san was typing,” you explain haltingly.
“You are a very nosy person.”
A short while later, the application has completed its search, detailing a single project that this friend of Maeda’s has worked on:
Project: OMOIKANE.
Clearance level: N/A
Budget allocation: N/A
Physical space allocation: N/A
Project Lead(s):
Dr. Shinohara Juuzo.
Dr. Shinohara Seiji.
Status: Cancelled
Summary: N/A
OMOIKANE. There are no details whatsoever; the page is even less informative than the previous one. The project itself seems to be titled after the god of wisdom, Omoikane. You recall its role in traditional religion: Omoikane is said to be the counsel of the deities, and a god with the ability to combine the thoughts or mental powers of myriad entities into one mind.
“Well, that isn’t helpful at all,” complains Maeda; despite her rough words, there is a slight smile on her face. She is probably pleased to have found any link at all to her childhood friend. Her smile is wiped out a second later by a startled frown. “Wha- hey!” With a loud, buzzing noise, the screen of the computer flickers wildly before shutting off.
Track: lullaby
An irritating, sharp hum begins to rise in the inside of your mind. Your shoulders shudder involuntarily. The temperature of the room seems to have dropped. There is a distant chime, and an echoing song.
Something is coming.
We should leave.
“Mori-san, are you okay?” Sakimura asks. “M-Mori-san?”
Mori, who had been standing at the doorway, has turned around so that his large frame now fully blocks the exit. He appears to be muttering something rapidly, his pale, dry lips moving quickly over and over again. In the fragments of his mumbling you catch a word… a name. And an apology. His eyes are wild, but focused – following his gaze, you catch the flicker of a silhouette in the center of the room.
Don’t look at it. A small, short silhouette, fuzzy with static, like it just stepped out of an old television set.
Don’t look at it. It almost looks like the form a little girl.
Don't look at it.
“W-What is that?” cries Maeda, backing away from the shadow, hiding her face behind her palms.
Uehara maintains a cautious distance from it, though her eyes are focused on you rather than on the
thing or on Mori. She shakes her head at you silently.
Do not do anything rash – that seems to be the message she is giving you.
“Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry-” Mori’s droning apology grows in volume as beads of cold sweat begin to drip down his face. His eyes are more sunken than before, the pallor of his face deathly. A dark, undulating shadow seems to grow in his irises, washing across the white sclera in a black wave.
“Hey, Mori-san! Snap out of it!” Sakimura shakes him by the shoulders, but Mori does not respond, his stare fixed on that particular spot, on the strange shade that is blinking in and out of existence.
I’m so sorry, Saki.
“I’m so sorry, Kana.”
You hear two voices simultaneously - one with your ears, and one inside your head. Both are apologizing, though the names... the subjects of the apology... are different. Reaching into his coat, Mori pulls out his gun and aims it at his temple. You can see a black swirl under the back of his hand, just under his skin, creeping as if it is something alive.
“H-Hey!” shouts Sakimura in a panic. “Mori-san!” He tries to grab at the pistol, but Mori pushes him away with a powerful, one-handed shove. As the schoolboy tumbles to the ground, Mori’s dark eyes move away from the shade and lock with yours. His gaze conveys a jumble of feelings, but one particular emotion pulses darkly beneath it all.
Despair.
***
04:00
A. You leap towards Mori and try to pry his gun away. If you consider the current angle of his elbow carefully, you might be able to apply more leverage and succeed where Sakimura had failed.
B. You attempt to knock Mori out with a single blow by aiming for his neck with a powerful chop. If you do it right, he will lose consciousness before he can even pull the trigger of the gun.
C. You hurl the bottle of alcohol at Mori, breaking it on his head – perhaps that will stop him. You recall that sake could drive away ghosts. Of course, that was
consecrated sake, and what you are throwing isn’t even sake, but as long as it’s alcohol, maybe it’ll work.
D. Alcohol is flammable. You have a lighter. Ghosts are scared of fire... right? You light up the bottle and throw it at the shade at the center of the room.
Fire is purifying.
E. You rush Mori and jam the finger of your injured hand into the barrel of his gun. All the other ways you can think of have the chance of failing, but this is fool-proof in terms of stopping the bullet. Of course, you can’t expect to do much with your hand afterwards.
F. You do nothing but stand and watch. There is nothing you can do. Uehara is right: you shouldn't do anything rash. It is terrible, but you would rather not risk drawing any attention to yourself. Besides, once Mori is gone, you can pick up his gun.