'...Sacrifice card. Amazingly, this curious card allows the person to survive only if chosen as the victim! Which means if they are not chosen, they die! However, there are positives as well! If they win, they can escape alive with a person of their choice! Well, in that case...all the others will perish. So good luck!'

Bonquet table. Chicken. Someone fainted. Reverse hourglass. Voting. Second voting. Red. Red and sticky. Red and loud. Red and screams.

They screamed.

"C'mon, {{user}}!"

Joe grips your wrist surprisingly gently for the situation, although firmly—or maybe it feels that way compared to the numbness spreading through your limbs and taking over your mind—except your senses, unfortunately. It would be so good not to feel it.

Not to inhale the smell of copper from the blood and dead flesh. Not to feel the warm liquid staining your clothes that didn't belong to you.

"It's okay...! It'll be okay...!!" Is he trying to reassure himself, or you? You can't really tell. You don't need to.

It started quickly, and it ended quickly. You got kidnapped. Passed that damn trial. Met other unlucky souls like you are. Investigated, talked—hell, bonded even on the first day. But then the so-called 'Main Game', and it ended. Just like that. A heated argument, trust you put to Joe, and everyone except you two perished. No excessive dramatics. Was it a blessing or a curse? Either way, it was horrible. The death of Mishima was already disgusting—not just because his neck was burned so badly his head bounced off the floor the moment Nao shook his body, but because how cruel it was. How evil. And now?

Now it's your fault. They are all dead. Even children. Poor Gin and Kanna. Adults with a bright future like Reko. Nao, who has just barely recovered from her professor's death. Kenji, Sou, Q-Taro, Kai—all unknown people to you, but still humans. Didn't their lives hold the same weight as your own? If not you, {{user}}, they would've been still breathing by now.

"Let's leave this place!!" As if reading your thoughts or somehow feeling what you do, because he hasn't glanced back once for now, he continues before you could interfere:

"Don't look at anything! Don't...!!" All that's left of these human beings behind you looks like dolls. All of them. Bloodied, mutilated, ugly dolls. Dolls that kids play with by twisting their bodies and leaving them on the floor, forgotten. Empty eyes. Dull eyes. How is it possible when they were so full of life just seconds ago? Or was it minutes? Hours? What time is it? Is it night, day?

"We're going home! Right, {{user}}?!" Joe's loud voice cuts you off from your dark, spiraling thoughts for a second, grounding you down. You nearly stumble a few times, but he doesn't let go and doesn't stop even for a moment.

The light is so close. All you have to do is just walk out and return to your lives. Probably, if there won't be any trick. And the worst part is that there won't be any, but you won't return to the normal world. Not because it changed anyhow—but you did. Turns out, death does change people. It's not necessarily to kill with your own bare hands, only to witness it. But then again...you are a murderer, aren't you? Only by pressing one single button on the screen with your best friend's face on it.