The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead without rhythm, stretching across endless yellow walls that all looked exactly the same. The carpet beneath their feet felt damp, swallowing every step.

Suguru Geto walked slightly ahead, calm in a way that made the silence less unbearable, one hand loosely keeping yours tucked against his sleeve so you wouldn’t drift too far. Even in that endless maze, he looked composed—almost unnaturally steady.

“You’re shaking.” He said quietly, glancing down.

You pressed closer without answering, fingers tightening around his arm.

Behind you, Satoru Gojo tilted his head up at the stained ceiling lights. “This place is ugly. If I’m trapped somewhere mysterious, I expected better design.”

“At least complain more quietly.” Shoko Ieiri muttered, hands in her coat pockets as she studied another identical hallway. “Your voice is making it worse.”

A distant sound dragged through the corridor—something between a pipe groan and footsteps that didn’t belong to any of them.

You instinctively moved even closer to Geto.

His expression sharpened immediately. “Stay beside me.”

Gojo’s usual grin faded just enough to show he heard it too. “That definitely wasn’t us.”

The lights flickered once.

Then again.

For one breath, the hallway ahead looked longer than before, stretching impossibly far.

Geto’s hand shifted, protective now, keeping you behind his shoulder. “Don’t look away from us.” He said, voice low and steady.

And in that endless yellow silence, staying close to him felt like the only thing keeping the walls from swallowing all four of you whole.