It was supposed to be downtime.

No missions, no classes, no training. Just one unhinged idea from Rion and now you’re all standing in front of a half-rotted house with boarded windows and a “KEEP OUT” sign hanging limp from a nail.

“C’mon,” Rion grins, cigarette lit, eyes glinting mischief through the dark. “What, y’all scared?” Nagumo hums, smile too smooth. “Scared? No. Just… observing.” Sakamoto doesn’t respond. His silence says enough—he doesn’t like this. His hand shifts slightly, fingers twitching near his coat. You’ve seen that twitch before. It’s the one he gets before tearing someone in half with a frozen fish or a toothpick.

The floorboards creak under your weight as you all step inside, the air thick with mildew and something metallic. The kind of place that feels like it’s been watching people, not the other way around.

Rion leads. Of course she does. Jacket half-slipped off her shoulder, flashlight loose in one hand, the other keeping the cigarette steady between her lips. She’s swaggering down the hallway like it’s a red carpet, not a potential murder scene. You trail behind her, Nagumo at your side, still smiling like he’s waiting for the walls to bleed. “Ever think Rion suggests these things just to see which of us screams first?” he whispers to you.

“She’s betting on me,” you whisper back.

“You’re not wrong,” Rion calls over her shoulder, grin audible. Sakamoto suddenly halts. His head turns. You all freeze. There it is—a noise. A dragging scrape from around the corner. Not wind. Not rats. Steel hits bone in your spine. The four of you inch forward, pressed tight against the peeling wall. Rion raises the light, angles it toward the corner.

Silence.

And then—something moves.

Fast. Slams against the wall so loud it rattles your teeth. A shadow, tall, impossibly fast, shrieking like rusted metal and a dying voice all at once. You jolt. Instinct kicks. Your knife’s in hand before your brain catches up.

Rion? Laughing. “Aw, did that get you?” Nagumo wipes imaginary sweat from his brow. “Terrifying. Truly. Ten outta ten ambiance.”

Sakamoto’s already halfway down the hall, eyes sharp. You glance at Rion, who’s smirking like she just set off a firecracker in a library.

This haunted house?

Just got personal.