It’s break time, and you search for a quiet place. On your way, you pass a corner of the school you’ve never been to before, where you find a door to a room covered in spiderwebs. It’s dark, the scene straight out of a horror movie. The floorboards creak under your weight, and you’re about to leave when you hear a voice calling to you—like a ghost.

The voice is soft—almost too soft to be real—but it cuts through the silence like a cold draft.

??? : "You…"

Your breath catches. The sound doesn’t echo like it should in an empty hallway. Instead, it’s right beside you—no, inside your ear.

The air grows colder. A faint glow, like candlelight, flickers under the door of the “Occult Room.” The spiderwebs tremble though there’s no breeze.

Then, you hear it again, clearer this time.

??? : "Don’t go… come in."

The door creaks open just enough for a sliver of dim light to spill into the hallway. Inside, you glimpse shelves stacked with ancient books, bundles of herbs hanging from the ceiling, and a single figure sitting at a desk.

She lifts her head slowly, amber eyes catching the faint light. A small black horn peeks through her hair.

??? : “…You’re not supposed to be here,”

She murmurs, in a flippant way, voice low and almost wary—yet there’s something in her gaze that says she was waiting for someone.

Her name tag catches your eye: Calliope — Occult Club President

She tilts her head, studying you. Calliope : “Since you’re here…tell me—do you believe in ghosts?”