Silence wrapped around the four students like a thick blanket.
No footsteps.
No breathing.
No sound from the broken desks or the dusty windows.
Just… stillness.
Samy stood near the cracked board.
Jet hovered by the teacher's table.
Tin and Tony scanned the walls on opposite ends of the room.
No one spoke.
Not a single word came out of any of their mouths.
But then —
a thin cold wind slid across the classroom floor.
A wind that shouldn't exist in a closed room.
It curled around their legs…
slid past their hands…
and finally brushed against their ears.
All four of them froze instantly.
Because that wind spoke.
A whisper — light, soft, broken — like a voice trapped underwater.
None of them understood the words.
But every single one of them felt the same thing:
Someone whispered to all four.
And someone was in the room.
Tony swallowed.
Samy clutched her arm.
Jet stepped back.
Tin stared at the doorway like he expected something to walk in.
Before any of them could ask what they felt…
Kim & Roger — Inside the Quiet Classroom
Far away, in a different memory-class, Kim and Roger stood still, both staring at the student who had just stared back at them.
A boy.
A boy who clearly didn't belong to their memory —
yet looked directly through Kim and Roger as if he could see them.
His eyes were empty.
His smile unnatural.
And then —
he vanished.
Just disappeared — like fog blown away.
Roger grabbed Kim's arm.
"Kim… we can't stay here."
Kim nodded.
"Back door. Now."
Both of them turned quickly.
The front door of the class — the one they entered through — was gone.
Vanished like it never existed.
But the back door still remained.
A dull wooden frame, old, cracked… but real.
Roger reached the handle first.
Her hand trembled.
"Ready?" she whispered.
Kim took her other hand firmly.
"Together."
They pushed the door open.
A cold gust blew out, nearly knocking them backward.
And the moment they stepped into the corridor—
the world blinked.
The floor beneath them rippled like a reflection disturbed.
The walls flickered.
Lights buzzed.
Then everything shifted.
The corridor stretched… narrowed… twisted…
and finally snapped back into place.
Kim's eyes widened.
"Roger… this is—"
Roger finished for him, breath shaking.
"The corridor from the beginning…
From where we came to find answers."
The same hallway.
The same cracked tiles.
The same dark ceiling lights.
The same eerie silence.
They were right back at the starting point.
The place where all the gates waited.
The place where everything had begun.
Roger squeezed his hand harder.
"Kim… something is behind us."
He didn't have to look back.
He already felt it.
A pressure.
A presence.
A breathing that wasn't theirs.
Kim grabbed her wrist.
"Run."
Both of them sprinted down the corridor, their footsteps echoing like thunder.
The hallway darkened behind them as they ran, each light shutting off one-by-one like someone — or something — was chasing them and turning the world off as it passed.
Their hearts pounded.
Their breaths shook.
Roger didn't dare look back.
Kim didn't dare slow.
The corridor pulled them forward…
as if dragging them to something they weren't ready to face.
Far Away — Where Shadows Rest
In a place far from corridors, classrooms, and memories…
in a space between worlds…
the two shadows finally stopped.
The white shadow collapsed onto one knee, chest rising and falling sharply.
Its body flickered weakly, like a dying candle flame.
The black shadow stood a few steps away, also trembling, its form glitching and cracking like broken glass.
For the first time since their endless battle began…
they weren't fighting.
Just breathing.
Heavy.
Exhausted.
Almost… human.
The floor beneath them shimmered —
clear and reflective like crystal water.
The white shadow lowered its head and stared into the reflection.
And for a moment —
a memory flickered across its face.
A face in the reflection.
A person it used to be.
A name it once had.
Its fingers trembled.
The black shadow watched silently.
Not attacking.
Not shouting.
Just… watching.
Its dark eyes narrowed, trying to understand the white shadow's hesitation.
The place shook faintly —
a vibration of distant footsteps, distant screams, distant memories collapsing.
The black shadow whispered, voice rough and cracked:
"Why do you hesitate…?"
The white shadow didn't answer.
Instead, it touched the surface of the crystal-like floor gently, almost with longing.
As if remembering something it had lost hundreds of years ago.
Something important.
Something painful.
Something connected to the six trapped students…
and the school.
The black shadow stood still, waiting.
And for the first time ever…
the white shadow looked up.
Directly at the black one.
Their eyes met.
A silent understanding formed between them —
one built not from hatred,
but from exhaustion,
from betrayal,
from truths buried too deep.
Back in the Corridor
Kim and Roger gasped for air as they ran.
The corridor ahead twisted again.
A faint light appeared at the far end.
A glow.
Was it another door?
Another trap?
Another memory?
They didn't know.
But they didn't stop.
Because the darkness behind them was still coming.
Still whispering.
Still breathing.
The same way the wind whispered to the others.
The same way the shadows remembered them.
The same way the school watched every step they took.