'Things weren't supposed to turn out like this...'
Clara muttered under her breath, her gaze locked onto the conductor at the center of the stage. His baton sliced through the air in sharp, fluid arcs, guiding the melody with each one of his movements.
Her grip on the walkie-talkie tightened. The earbuds in her ears dulled the sound but couldn't silence the music.
Somehow, someway, it found its way into her mind.
Click!
"Resist... Resist... Resist..."
Her mouth opened and closed on repeat, the same words tumbling out over and over. What once used to be something she said to remind her squad members was now something she said in order to keep her own sanity. She feared the music would consume her entirely if she stopped, even for a second.
If she faltered for even a moment...
Clara bit her lip.
'How did things turn out this way?'
The first sign that something had turned awry had been the Jester. Its presence alone should have been a red flag. Anomalies like that didn't just appear—they were warnings, omens of something within the Gate changing.
But as the captain of a ranked squad, Clara thought she wouldn't struggle with a
Even if Anomalous-Type Gates tended to have the lowest survival rates, she shouldn't have struggled like this. She had made enough preparations to succeed.
From the noise-cancelling devices to reduce the impact of the music, to the numerous dampening devices that they had brought in advance.
None of it.
None of it worked.
"Aghhhh—!"
A scream—raw, wet, and broken—tore through the symphony.
Bang!
Clara flinched.
'N-no, stop... This needs to stop...'
Her hands trembled as she forced herself to look ahead. The conductor's lips, grotesquely sewn shut with blackened wire, stretched into a sickening grin.
He was enjoying this.
And Clara, for the first time in her life, felt something deeper than fear.
Helplessness.
Her entire squad was made up of ten elite members, all trained to deal with such situations. But this... this was different.
Even as an Anomalous-Type Gate, which was considered to have the lowest survival rate amongst all types of Gates, things shouldn't have been this difficult.
Something had gone wrong.
Horribly so.
This was no
The music pulsed through the air, every note forcing her mind to grow numb, slowly inching towards her mind, sucking her into this strange state that made her fingers twitch.
'Think, think, think.'
Clara's mind churned, all sorts of possibilities running through her mind.
She still had time.
She needed to think of a way to help herself, alongside the squad, out of this predicament. In spite of the music slowly draining away her mental capability, she was still able to remain rational enough to think.
—C..Captain. I can't resist much... longer.
—Ca-ptain! Should we just attack? We might not be able to... defeat it. But at least, it might be able to stop it!
Defeat it?
Clara raised her head and looked at the conductor.
She hurriedly shook her head. That was impossible. She could feel it with every bone in her body. This was not a creature they could defeat.
The only way to defeat him was through the rules.
—H-help. I'm about to...!
Think, think!
Overhearing her squad members' cries and pleas, Clara bit her lips. Her eyes darted all over the hall, trying to find a way to solve this predicament, and yet, regardless of how hard she tried, she couldn't find a way out.
This... situation.
'It's helpless. It's...'
It was amidst her helplessness and despair that a certain voice whispered from the walkie-talkie.
—If you want to live, do as I say.
'What...?'
It was a voice she couldn't recognize, and most importantly, it carried an extreme calmness that seemed unfitting for the situation.
A chill ran down Clara's spine. Slowly, she turned.
The Jester.
He too... was holding onto a walkie-talkie.
'How...?'
With a shaking hand, she pressed the device to her lips.
"Who... who are you?"
Silence.
Clara's breath hitched.
Across the room, the Jester's expression changed—his face tensed, his features twisting into an unpleased frown.
Then, he spoke again.
—That is irrelevant. You don't have much time.
Clara bit her lips, every part of her telling her to ask questions such as, 'Why are you here? Are you human? What is your purpose?' and so on, but understanding her current predicament, she knew that she didn't have the luxury to waste time.
And for that reason, she had no other choice but to bring the walkie-talkie to her lips again.
"What do you need us to do?"
Another pause.
The Jester's face twitched again, his cheeks bulging just faintly as if suppressing something.
Clara let out a nervous breath. Was her answer unsatisfactory? Was he going to leave? What—
And then, the reply came.
—Insult the conductor.
"What?"
But it wasn't the answer she expected.
Insult the conductor? Clara's head flicked towards the conductor, and her expression wavered. What sort of joke was this?
A trick? Was the Jester toying with them before their inevitable deaths?
—C... captain?
—I... can't hold on much longer.
—Don't... listen. It might be a trap.
Her squad's strained voices wavered through the static. Some pleaded. Others warned. But all of them waited—for her.
The Jester's voice came again, sharper this time.
—Are you going to do it or not?
Clara's fingers tightened around the walkie-talkie. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. The choice felt impossible, but in truth, there was no choice at all.
"Do it..."
—Captain!
"Do it."
The words barely left her lips before she turned to the conductor and forced out the first thing that came to mind.
"This... is boring."
'Even if this is a trap, what other choice do I have? Since we might all die, we may at least try this!'
Her words triggered a ripple. One by one, the squad followed suit, their voices shaky but growing in confidence. Insults. Boos. Mocking laughter. Some sounded hollow, others desperate. But they all spoke.
"...I've heard better."
"Can we make this stop?"
"How disgusting."
"I... want to kill myself with how bad this i—!"
Crack!
A crackling, sickening sound suddenly filled the hall.
The conductor had stopped.
And so did the music.
"....."
He stood in silence.
The faint, rough yet strained breath of all those present echoed across the entire theater.
That was when it happened.
Swoosh!
The faceless audience turned in unison, blank 'eyes' fixed on them.
Clara's body went stiff, every muscle locking in place as a sickening, wet rip echoed through the theater. It came from the conductor.
"....!?"
With a sharp, violent jerk of its head, the stitches sealing the conductor's mouth snapped. Its lips tore apart, the flesh splitting with a sickening rip.
Jagged edges of shredded skin hung loosely as its mouth gaped open.
Then, a hoarse, crackling voice slithered from its throat, echoing through the theater.
"W...what did... you say?"
Its gaze...
Locked firmly towards the expressionless Jester.