Noctis roamed around the main hallway, his footsteps slow and deliberate, his eyes scanning every corner, every pillar, every inch of the ceiling. He was hoping to find something — anything — that felt even slightly out of place.
But there was nothing that truly caught his attention.
"A crystal… the chandelier falling… and a birthday celebration. How do all of these align?" Noctis muttered to himself under his breath.
The three elements circled endlessly in his mind.
Then—
He remembered something.
Not a sight.
Not a clue.
A whisper.
'It fell and nobody could do anything. And Ian Vexwood did not look behind.'
Noctis stopped walking.
"Did this have something to do with Ian Vexwood?" he murmured. "Why did he not look behind? And what was there behind him?"
His thoughts returned to the chandelier once more.
Again and again.
He could only think that somehow, in some way, the chandelier was connected to Ian Vexwood.
But how?
That was the part he did not understand.
He pulled out his phone and checked the time.
2:00 PM.
Eight hours.
Eight hours left to figure everything out.
Everything that would happen in this mansion on June 4th.
But there was still another question that had remained unanswered since the very beginning.
'Who set all of this up?'
Because this certainly wasn't something science was capable of. At least — not yet.
Whoever was behind this.
Whoever had created this place.
Was no ordinary human.
"Was it God?" Noctis whispered to himself.
But then again… why him?
Why would God choose someone like him and put him through a trial like this?
He was nothing significant.
He had done nothing significant.
He was just another nobody trying to make a living.
There was nothing special about him.
Nothing that justified this.
But that wasn't his focus right now.
He brushed those thoughts aside, forcing his mind back to the chandelier.
Back to something tangible.
Back to something solvable.
He stood there, staring upward, when he noticed one of the servants setting up a large round table in the middle of the hall.
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Directly beneath the chandelier.
Noctis watched quietly.
He thought for a moment.
Then suddenly—
A thought formed.
It was ridiculous.
Unreasonable.
Something he did not want to accept.
And yet…
It made sense.
Too much sense.
He didn't want to believe it.
He didn't want to entertain it.
But once again, that whisper echoed inside his ears.
'It fell and nobody could do anything. And Ian Vexwood did not look behind.'
Noctis froze where he stood.
He didn't want to trust his own reasoning anymore.
He didn't want to follow this train of thought.
But the whisper was aligning everything too perfectly.
Slowly, he gathered his courage and approached the servant who was adjusting the tablecloth.
"Hello there," Noctis greeted.
"Hm? Oh— hello," the servant replied, slightly startled by the sudden approach.
Ignoring the reaction, Noctis continued.
"Why are you setting up this table here?" he asked calmly.
"Ah, this is where the cake is going to be kept. Along with the other food items," the servant answered casually.
Noctis slowly lifted his gaze.
His eyes travelled upward.
From the table.
To the chandelier.
Directly above it.
"Hah…" Noctis murmured quietly to himself. "Are you kidding me?"
"What was that?" the servant asked, unable to hear him clearly.
"Oh, it's… it's nothing. I'll be taking my leave now."
And with that, Noctis walked away.
The moment he turned his back, panic surged through his body.
His steps grew faster as he made his way back to his room.
Once inside, he shut the door firmly behind him.
He stood there for a moment, breathing heavily.
He couldn't believe it.
He didn't want to believe it.
But it was the only explanation that filled the gap.
The only explanation that connected the chandelier, Ian… and Ilya.
He spent several minutes standing in silence, trying to find another possibility.
Another outcome.
Another answer.
But there was none.
Eventually, he forced himself to accept it.
Today—
Was the day Ilya dies.
And the worst part of all—
It had to be done by him.
Noctis placed both hands over his head, fingers tightening against his hair.
"I can't do it… I can't… do it…" he muttered repeatedly.
If her death had come naturally — not that he wished for it — he might have been able to endure it.
But this?
This required him.
Directly or indirectly, her death would be caused by Noctis.
And that was what tore at him the most.
Noctis was not a violent person.
He was never someone who started fights.
He was never someone who raised his hand against others.
Let alone take a life.
He was just an ordinary worker.
An average man.
But now?
This mansion was demanding that he kill someone.
Take a life with his own hands.
He couldn't believe it.
He couldn't accept it.
There was no way he could.
Even if the people in this mansion were not human.
Even if everything here was part of some system.
It didn't matter.
He couldn't bring himself to do it.
Noctis lowered himself onto the desk, his thoughts scrambled beyond order.
There was nothing.
Nothing that came to his mind that could save Ilya.
Not a single alternative.
Not a single loophole.
He wanted one simple answer.
'Why did it have to be him?'
'What sin had he committed to be placed in such a trial?'
He didn't understand.
Not at all.
And whether the people in this mansion were human or not no longer mattered.
The question now was about his own sanity.
Time passed.
Silently.
Slowly.
5:00 PM.
Noctis glanced at the clock while lying on his bed, exhausted from thinking.
"Five more hours…" he murmured. "Ilya must have finished writing the letter by now… right?"
He stood up.
Put on his coat.
And walked toward Ilya's room.
Standing in front of her door, he raised his hand to knock.
But no sound followed.
He simply couldn't.
Not after knowing she was the one he was supposed to kill with his own two hands.
He stood there, staring at the floor.
Lost in his thoughts.
Until—
Click.
The door opened.
Ilya stepped out, only to find Noctis standing there.
He opened his mouth to speak.
But no words came out.
In the middle of his hesitation—
"Have you been standing here all this time?" Ilya asked, confusion evident on her face.
Perhaps even a hint of pity.
Noctis understood that look immediately.
He did not want to be labelled as some strange stalker.
"N-No. I just arrived…" he said, his voice slightly unsteady.
"…I see."
Ilya looked at him more closely this time.
"Are you okay?" she asked, concern clear in her voice.
Noctis let out a deep breath.
"Yeah… I'm fine."
"You don't look like it."
"Don't worry about me," he replied quickly. "There's nothing you should be concerned about. Or about your… party."
"If you say so." She paused. "Then come with me."
"Hm? Come with you? To where?" Noctis asked, slightly confused.
"To my… father's office," Ilya answered, still not fully prepared to face Ian Vexwood.
"Are you perhaps… scared?" Noctis asked carefully.
"No! …Maybe a little," she admitted. "This will be the first time in a while I'll be going to see him."
"Then don't," Noctis said firmly.
"Huh? What do you mean?" Ilya asked, confused by the sudden response.
"If you have truly written all your feelings in that letter," Noctis said calmly, "then just hand it over to the butler. From there, the letter will carry its weight. Trust me."
"I… understand." She hesitated. "But can you still accompany me until the door? I don't want to go alone…"
She gripped her arm lightly as she spoke.
Noctis glanced at her for a moment before closing his eyes.
"I don't mind."
"Really? T-Thank you," Ilya said, a faint smile forming on her face.
And just like that—
The two of them began walking toward the office of Ian Vexwood.
