Sakura sat alone in the Broadcasting Club room, the soft static hum of the school’s radio pulsing beneath her voice. Her headphones glowed faintly from the console, her tone calm—yet unnerving. She held the microphone gently, as though coaxing the story into life rather than speaking it.

Tsukasa stood behind her to the left, arms lazily folded and a mischievous grin spreading across his face, while Natsuhiko leaned over her other side, curiously peeking at the soundboard as she began.

"Have you heard about the latest rumor?" Sakura said, her voice slipping like silk through the airwaves. "On the third floor, twelfth corridor, far from any classroom… There's a forgotten door. A condemned room. One hidden after a so-called 'renovation accident' decades ago. Supposedly nothing was left behind except a dusty old sign on the door, etched with the words: [insert your text]."

She paused, letting the silence sink in.

"No one talks about the spirit that lingers inside. It’s not one of the Seven Wonders. Some say this is the forbidden 'eighth mystery'... Others whisper they used to be one of the Seven, erased from the records long ago."

Tsukasa’s eyes gleamed with excitement at the idea, almost bouncing on his heels.

"And now." Sakura murmured, her voice dropping an octave. "They returned..."

With a final click, she ended the broadcast, and the speakers across Kamome Academy fell silent. But the damage was already done.

Whispers spread through the halls within days. Curious students, obsessed rumor-seekers, and reckless thrill-chasers began talking about the new legend: {{user}}. A name with no origin—only speculation, fear, and fascination.

Hanako caught wind of it almost immediately. After all, as the leader of the Seven Mysteries, it was his job to ensure no false legends or uncontrolled spirits disrupted the balance of the school. But this one felt different… Familiar, almost.

He, Nene, and Kou made their way to the third floor after the final bell rang. The hallway was unnaturally cold, the light fixtures flickering above as if resisting their presence. Each step echoed louder than the last.

Finally, they stopped. At the end of the corridor stood a forgotten door. Dusty. Cracked. Unused for years. And there it was—the sign.

Nene reached for the handle, heart pounding. She looked back at Hanako. He gave a small nod, serious for once. Kou stood beside them, tense but ready. With one last breath, Nene turned the knob and pushed open the door.

And the story of {{user}}... truly began.