Tokyo Dome.

  An empty stadium built for fifty five thousand people possesses a unique atmosphere that makes one feel strange.

  A hollow cathedral of concrete, reeks of floor cleaner, ozone and cold steel, usually, its walls vibrate with the thunderous screams of fans but today it was like a massive hushed, frozen world. And the humming of the air conditioning system makes the air more oppressive.

  Reina stood in the 'Zero' mark, the center of the stage. Beneath her was a massive plexiglass floor now acting like a polished black mirror, reflecting the brutal overhead 5000-Kelvin rehearsal lights.

  Five years, she thought, her breathing becoming shallow and chaotic.

  Five years.

  I've stood on this mark for five whole years.

  This mark had been my home. It was supposed to be my throne. But today, it feels like a grave.

  "Places! From the bridge. Track 4: Supernova Symphony," the director yelled through the speakers.

  Reina moved into place. She forced her body to relax into the opening pose.

  A sharp, familiar pain shot through her left knee, an injury accumulated from years of dancing and jumping on the hard floor. The medical staff at LUMINA! didn't care. They always said-

  ‘It’s normal for an idol to have some health problems.”

  “It's a normal pain. Use a pain killer.”

  “Your condition is too good. Look at other idols. Do they complain like you?”

  And then they just handed her painkillers. And today also they just handed her painkillers and told her the Digital Twin would handle the hard dancing and jumping during the live broadcast anyway.

  The wave of violent music blasted through the massive towering line-array speakers. She felt as if a violent force was hitting her chest.

  She moved.

  To any observer, she still looked perfect. She started a rigorously fine tuned dance. Her arms hit their marks exactly on time. Every beat amplified her graceful dancing to maximum. Her back curved at the industry standard mandatory fifteen-degree angle in the turn. To the managers and company representatives watching from the shadows, she was a finished product, but inside she was drowning. The 'pathetic, broken senior' act was no longer entirely an act. From inside to outside she was truly exhausted. Like in this choreography, no matter how much effort she puts, how perfect her acting, dancing is, she was lagging behind. She felt heavy. Besides, she was pouring 90 percent of almost all her mental energy into maintaining the facade of a failing star, letting her shoulders slump and her breathing sound loud over the mics.

  During the eight-count rotation, the girls shifted from a tight diamond shape to a circle falling outward. This was the transition. This was supposed to be where Ami crossed behind her.

  Ami didn't do so. She didn’t cross behind her. She stepped right in front of her. And mimicked Reina’s every movement fluently to the extreme perfection. She was only 18, with a body not rusted by years of 'Weight Management' protocols, showing everyone exactly how much better the younger girl was if they were given a chance to lead.

  "You are late on the turn again, Reina-senpai," Ami whispered with a perfect, fake smile. She kept her eyes perfectly fixed on the imaginary audience in the venue.

  Reina played along. She let a flash of panic hit her face, looking like a cornered animal. "I know. My shoe is slipping," Reina breathed, telling a desperate, calculated lie.

  "Is it your shoe? Or is it your age, Senpai?" Ami made a flawless spin, nearly brushing Reina's shoulder. "The director showed me the data from the last run. Your biometrics are terrible. Your heart rate even goes high during the simple transitions. You're struggling, senpai. It's embarrassing and sad to watch."

  Reina bit her lower lip, letting her eyes fill with tears. This was the way LUMINA! Treats their failing artists. They didn't scream at you. They killed you with "sympathy" while the cameras were rolling.

  "I can do the bridge," Reina begged. She hated how real her "victim" persona sounded.

  "But you shouldn't have to," Ami countered, her tone dripping with false compassion.. "You look like you're going to break. Kaneshiro-san said the same thing this morning. He told me it’s a 'mercy' to let me take your Center spot for the finale. He wants to take the pressure off you. The Goshuin Council is already running predictive algorithms on KIZUNA. They're prepping the timeline for your sudden medical hiatus."

  KIZUNA.

  Reina was almost out of her breath.

  Ami spun again and moved to the center of the stage, forcing Reina to the edge.

  "And honestly, Senpai" Ami added, "KIZUNA's 'Air-Conditioner' algorithm is already running at its full potential on your feed. And whenever someone posts that you look 'sick' or 'tired,' it undergoes semantic dissolution. It Soft-Swaps the kanji in real-time so it reads 'working so hard' on everyone else's screen.' They are building the narrative, Senpai. Also they used your training and performance footage from your peak period from three years ago. And fed them into the AI. It looks incredible. It dances exactly like you used to. Also it doesn't get tired or cry. Also AI will render your bad performance and turn that into a masterclass in real time. And then overlay that live broadcast. Once the lights go out, no one will even know you are gone."

  It was a perfect, poisonous strike. Ami wasn't just stealing her spotlight, she was burying Reina alive with a smile.

  Reina played along, acting broken. She let her posture fail. Her arms drop significantly lower during the practice than they should be. To anyone who was watching the monitors, all assumed the legendary phenomenon idol Reina Shiratori was finally breaking under the weight of her own legacy.

  Reina lowered her head, acting thoroughly defeated, letting her arms drop half an inch lower than the choreography dictated. To anyone watching the monitors, the legendary Reina Shiratori was finally breaking under the weight of her own legacy.

  "Cut the track!" the director yelled. "We're moving to the 'Chaos' sequence. Lighting tech, give me the single overhead spot for the blackout.""

  The Dome went into darkness, except for one blinding beam of light over the stage. And the 6 girls started to move.

  "Three, two, one. Prepare for the drop," the choreographer commanded.

  They moved into a circle for the "drop" move. They all hit the ground on one knee, heads down, waiting for the beat to drop and the stage to explode with flares.

  "Five, six, seven, eight."

  Reina dropped her knee with a thud to the black plexiglass, Her already injured knee began throbbing with extreme pain. She bowed her head and let her hair fall over her eyes but she could see the floor clearly. The stage was like a black mirror. And under the 'Zero' mark, there was a massive trapdoor, a hydraulic lift used to lift artists from under the stage. And from the tiny gap between the lift and the main stage she could see the glowing green light, indicating the safety latches were on.

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  Under a bright overhead light, it created shadows for every person standing in the circle.

  The shadows of six individual, six sharp, black shadows stretched throughout the stadium and made the floor like petals of a dark flower.

  Reina stared at the floor.

  Subconsciously she counted the dark petals on the floor.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Four.

  Five.

  Six.

  Seven.

  There were supposed to be six.

  She counted seven.

  She nearly choked on her own breath, forcing herself to cough so no one would hear her panic.

  Seven shadows.

  The seventh shape was long, terrifying and unnatural. It didn’t come from the girls. It fell straight down from the high, dark metal beams above the stage that should be off-limits. The shadow stretched all the way to the edge of the central hydraulic lift.

  It was a shadow of a person, watching the girls from the darkness and he wasn't moving.

  She again looked at the reflection in the black mirror of the stage, And saw a tiny, rectangular glow of pale blue light hovering overhead.

  A tablet screen.

  Why was someone standing directly above the drop zone? Why? Why?

  And then Reina’s training kicked in. Her mind, trained for survival, began to move at a rapid speed. She stopped random thoughts from her mind and began to process the environment not as a stage, but as a battlefield.

  Without moving her head, she shifted her eyes to check the reflection of all possible exits in the polished floor. Usually, the Dome required at least 200 guards for a rehearsal of this scale, specifically to eliminate all risks of being suddenly attacked by a frantic fan or stalker and monitor all possible the blind spots and entrances.

  But now in the reflection there were none. Almost all the entrances were empty.

  No guards. No radios. Only darkness.

  Then she remembered Sayuri’s voice mail which got on her tablet, during her return from the disgustingly hot Roppongi rooftop pool. When returning to the company because of her tiredness she didn't hear the mail clearly. Only she heard some glimpse of it.

  Exe…ive …der 44. Be…se …. cost ….curity ….uced to 30% … rehearsal.

  And now she understood the whole mail.

  Executive Order 44. Because of excessive cost, security will be reduced to 30% during rehearsal.

  It wasn’t about saving money. You only cut security if you wanted a breach to happen and a major disaster occurs.

  She looked above her head and then at the floor beneath her feet. The safety latches for the hydraulic lift weren't glowing green. The stage wasn't safe. It was a trap.

  The pieces naturally fell into place with a terrifying logic.

  Ami’s casual comment about pulling out matrices, her fading out from the public and KIZUNA algorithm.

  Kaneshiro’s sudden rush for firing their cashcow and rush to introduce and use the Digital Twin overlay during live broadcast.

  The missing security personnel.

  The unlocked hydraulic lift.

  The person waiting above their head during the blackout.

  They weren't just going to let her "graduate." Kaneshiro wasn't just firing her; he was going to do something more sinister to her. Usually a retired idol is forgotten within a year.

  But what if a legendary idol dies in a tragic accident on the stage of Tokyo Dome during her final performance?

  She would become a billion-dollar worth martyr mascot.

  The LUMINA! stock would soar through the sky just by playing sympathy cards. Then they would play the Amaterasu disaster protocols on KIZUNA, plunging the country into digital mourning. And then her AI twin would make billions just selling her image and merchandise for the next twenty and so on years.

  Kaneshiro will be orchestrating a live execution of her in front of thousands of people.

  Reina bowed her head and knelt there under the blinding spotlight. To everyone, she was now looking like a pathetic, broken girl.

  But in that moment something woke up inside her. She didn’t feel panic anymore. As if the ghost inside her fed all of her fear, panic and hesitation. And replaced them with a dangerously cold calmness.

  Everyone in the company thought she was a cornered animal.

  But they were wrong. They just locked themselves in the Dome with a woman who was ready to self-destruct at any moment.

  "Okay, cut! Good drop!" the director yelled at the top of her voice and shattered the suffocating silence. "Now. Take a fifteen-minute break. After that we will do the finale."

  Reina stood up slowly, and limped off-stage, playing the victim card until she reached her private dressing room. She locked the door and went inside the attached bathroom to turn on the bathroom fan to hide any noise and after that she checked the air vents and the mirror edges for hidden cameras. And when she found the room was clean, she dropped her act.

  She went to her bag. Inside the bag, there were many expensive LUMINA! branded makeup, countless powerful painkillers. She reached the bottom of the bag and pulled out several rolls of heavy-duty athletic tape.

  She removed every single piece of fiber from her body and looked in the mirror. She was too thin. But her muscles were dense.

  She knew the stage was a trap. If they were going to drop the stage she had to be ready to face the trap.

  If she ran or screamed for help, Kaneshiro would just try again later, perhaps he will use even more despicable means. To win this, she had to allow them whatever the company was planning.

  She knew that she couldn't stop whatever the company was planning. If they really were going to drop the stage, she needed to control how she fell.

  A fifteen-foot drop from the stage to the concrete floor wouldn't just destroy her career, It would obviously kill her if she is caught in it off guard. It would either kill her and would make her paralyzed. If she landed on her feet, the impact would likely shatter her heels, ankles and worst case scenario even maybe her back or pelvis would shatter. But if she landed on head or neck, her internal organs would be damaged and in the worst case scenario she would definitely die.

  FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

  I WILL KILL THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS. I WILL ABSOLUTELY OBLITARATE THEM AND THEIR WHOLE WORLD TO GROUND IF I SURVIVE.

  She bit off the end of the tape. With quick movements, she wrapped her ankles tight, locking the joints so they wouldn't snap when she hit the floor. She wrapped the arches of her feet to absolve the heavy shock of the fall and taped her knees to keep them from buckling under her weight. Beneath her tall, black boots, the tape pulled so tight her skin burned.

  If she falls then she would just perform the ‘Parachute Landing Fall’. All she has to do is a carefully calculated five-point roll and try to land on the balls of her feet, let her knees bend like springs, and immediately tumble to spread out the impact.

  She put her clothes back on. Checked her range of motion. It was stiff. The fall would hurt like hell. But she wouldn't die. At least she would survive.

  Now all she had to do was maintain a stable heart rate, otherwise the biometric monitors would send alerts. And then she would have to face mocking looks from her team members and also get yelled at. She closed her eyes and carefully checked and visualized every part of her plan.

  She started her breathing exercise-

  Breathe in for four seconds.

  Hold for four seconds.

  Breathe out for four seconds.

  She had two days to let Kaneshiro think he had won. She looked at her reflection, her eyes cold and made a terrifying smile.

  Let them drop the stage.

  Let them turn out the lights.

  We will see who knows how to move in the dark.

  > [SYSTEM LOG: LUMINA!_ASSET_MONITOR_7]

  > Asset: Reina Shiratori

  > Location: Tokyo Dome (VIP Dressing Room 1)

  > Biometric Note: Asset heart rate stabilized abnormally fast. 155 BPM dropped to 58 BPM in under 40 seconds.

  > Warning: Kinematic sensors detect subtle rigidity in lower extremities.

  > Observation: Asset spatial awareness during 'Chaos' sequence registered anomalous eye-tracking. Asset focused on floor reflections rather than ‘Zero' point.

  > Note: Security staffing currently at 30% capacity per Executive Order 44. Corridor C is unmonitored.

  > Threat Level: [RECALCULATING...]

  > Threat Level: 0%. Asset is isolated and securing physical injuries. Deploying 'Komorebi' audio-visual filters to Asset's private feeds to induce a docile, compliant state.

  > [SYSTEM LOG: KIZUNA_NETWORK_INTERNAL]

  > Module: Air-Conditioner (Semantic Oversight)

  > Trigger: Keyword surge [Reina, Tired, Rehearsal, Tokyo Dome]

  > Action: Enjo package 4A deployed. Soft-Swapping negative sentiment to "Anshin" (Peace of Mind) parameters.