Finale: A Spectacle of Deduction and the Maestro unveiled (Part 2)

Minutes before

Noel and Marshal

Gateway between the building A and B

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Marshal pondered. "You are not very convincing. But I have to admit but your first point is far from absurd… Continue."

"Let's continue with the second point." Noel said dramatically.

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Second Point — Time Pressure and Rules

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Question 1 : Why the game (and its rules)?

Question 2 : Why change the rules?

"Why abruptly switch the game?" Noel asked. "What do you think?"

"You said this yourself: the game is poorly made, so they need to change the rules. I see… you assume there is some logic behind this madness. I don't find any." Marshal shook his head.

"Madness… Madness! Tell me. Are you happy?" The unexpected question caught Marshal off guard as if he were being assaulted.

"Of course not! A simple stroll to buy milk turned into participation in a f*cking deadly game!" His calm demeanor vanished, thinking, 'Happiness…'

Noel was taken aback, 'It was just a question…', but he continued.

"Me neither. I think that none of us are unaffected. We are cut off from the world and caged like animals. The rules of the game encourage distrust, so that we are at each other throats." Noel stopped, taking a breath, then sighing heavily. Marshal looked blankly at the ground before raising his head with a frown.

Of course, who knew their dire situation better than they did? But openly enumerating the details was hardly welcomed, even if the two of them won't deny the truth of it.

"So? What is your point?" Marshal said.

"In a nutshell, the game itself is pure, unfiltered madness. The shock value… is too high. The only well-thought-out part of the game is the shock value. None of us will be able to stay fully sound of mind after witnessing cannibalism of our own species. If the culprit has a concrete goal, I can only make the following assumption."

Assumption 2 : The culprit wants us to be mentally unstable.

"Why?" Marshal expected an answer.

"Don't know. We don't have enough information." Noel was annoyed. He was deducing, not performing magic, and he knew nothing about the supernatural. "But with this, I can make another assumption."

Assumption 3 : Anyone who hasn't been killed by the end of the game will survive, because the culprit needs them.

"But this—"

"Isn't a contradiction with my first axiom. I never said anything about dying, and I'm not saying anything about not dying either. We are needed for something, but anything could happen to us while we're in use or after." Noel cut him off before he could continue.

The bulky man closed in eyes while folding his arms, with a mixture of annoyance and reflection.

"I see. Yet, death is still the most likely outcome. And what about the unregistered ones?"

Noel blinked. "The unregistered…? I see. Maybe they will soon be released from their controls in order to experience a tumult of emotions… I obviously hope that I'm wrong."

"So, nothing relevant about them except a far greater number of people which might try to kill us." Marshal said, then continued. "What about the rules change?"

"Everything happening is a recipe of madness; however, the one behind it made sure that the game was eventful. But it seems rushed."

Assumption 4 : The culprit is under time pressure.

"Meh. By itself this assumption is right but the whole this with the rule change is more likely because the culprit is bored like you said."

"Then, how is it right?"

"It's kind of obvious that the supernatural behind this is under time pressure. The relevant authorities may already know that hundreds of people have disappeared. So, the plan of action should be something that buys us time." Marshal said this as a matter of fact.

Noel paused looking at Marshal. "…"

"What is it?" Marshal said, looking surprised.

"Stop with that face. You know why." Noel looked at him. "And let's be honest, it wasn't like I wanted to do anything other than clarify this situation before I die if I'm lucky."

Marshal burst into laughter, infuriating Noel. "Hahaha! Ultimately, we don't know their powers or their scope. Which makes every possible plan pointless."

His whole demeanor changed. '…there's no harm in sharing this information. I wonder again what he might find that I missed.'

"…It happens that I have some knowledge about the supernatural, even though I barely interacted with it. The culprit is of the type Cognitive Playwright. But don't ask why each type has a theater-related name. I don't know."

"How do you—"

"Don't ask." His quick answer indicated to Noel that he had no intention of answering any questions related to his life.

"Then, tell me what you know about this supernatural… type." Noel was unsure. 'It feels like a game or some fantasy.'

"Little, like the supernatural in general. Just that they can are related to minds and they are rare, maybe the rarest type. Additionally, they can control other supernaturals, so every time one appears, they might be purged, imprisoned or taken somewhere (the three are guesses)."

"But why would this one—"

"Don't know. Like I said, just a psychopath that is feeling untouchable. But we've officially left the realm of logic and axioms behind, poorly dressed one. We're flying blind on suppositions now. So, go ahead and answer this question:

> Would someone risking their life just by existing orchestrate all of this without any assurance, like… controlled supernaturals?!

> Or, to put it simply, if someone has the power to control others, wouldn't they have powerful slaves under their command, especially if they disregard life and human dignity?"

"…" Noel paused. Whether the answer was 'yes' or 'no', both could easily fit the questions as they lacked information.

"In addition, did you forget that the unregistered somehow vanished?" Marshal asked. "It seems obvious that another one is present."

A tempest of thoughts stormed through Noel's mind, unearthing his memories and intertwining them to forge a final deduction.

"No. At least, for now only one supernatural acted." He said with determination.

"And what is your proof?" Marshal raised his eyebrow. 'If there's truly just one, it feels a bit less hopeless.'

Noel answered. "After the unregistereds vanished, the Cognitive Playwright said, 'The punishment period is over'. What if the culprit had altered our perception of time by freezing our thoughts? That would explain why, from their perspective, some time had elapsed."

"How did you…?" Marshal looked at him, surprised, not expecting an answer that could actually make sense. 'Teleportation was the most likely explanation… now it seems a stretch.'

However, he quickly answered. "Even worse, if the culprit stopped our perception of time, that means they can defend themselves even in the stupid case where they are alone without any meat shields. Additionally, we realistically won't be given the time to destroy all the cameras quickly enough."

Noel exhaled. "…Do supernaturals feel tiredness after using their power?"

Marshal blinked several times. "Each time they use their power… I guess we can work with that…"

Assumption 5 : The culprit is getting tired.

A few minutes passed, and the elaborate plan didn't convince the both of them, but it was better than nothing.

Marshal cut the silence. "Oh, and survive on your own. For the next game."

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Logical reasoning sequence — End

Summary (Include past and future) :

Logical axioms :

> 1. None of us will have a good end.

> 2. We are in a black box.

>> 2.1. The culprit can't or won't manipulate the black box.

> 3. The culprit is hiding in Solaris Plaza.

> 4. The culprit was in a surveillance room.

Assumptions :

> 1. The culprit is either hiding in this specific area or another building.

> 2. The culprit wants us to be mentally unstable.

> 3. Anyone who hasn't been killed by the end of the game will survive, because the culprit needs them.

> 4. The culprit is under time pressure.

> 5. The culprit is getting tired.

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Point Of View change — This Person!

Time : Present

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Do you know Solaris Plaza? Yes, the modern museum, since hardly anyone bothers to come to this place anymore. In Nanome, who doesn't have a cheap drone service in 3024? Maybe old men who were raised by old men and so on. (That reminds me, I need to renew all my streaming subscriptions. Who is the idiot who thought it was a good idea to allow this kind of service to have competitors instead of keeping a monopoly?)

While I said hardly anyone, it's still plenty enough for me, and lucky me, none were supernatural… supernatural? Keke! In a sense, everything beyond ordinary or unexplainable can effectively be called supernatural, as it can be called magic. Yet the true name is more fitting that the official one — supernatural.

My first objective is completed. A few remaining. Hopefully, it will go well. …Bouhahakeke! It will go badly, and I know it, yet since I awakened, I had this urge to try this. And no matter what I do, I can't access a single Performance Event, so I have to resort to this simple method.

Anyway, what I'm doing now is a gamble. I gambled my life, not that I intend to die, and even without any means to contact the outside, I know that the Supernatural Collective would soon arrive. No matter who I am, I'm dead without any trial if they catch me… like my controlled drone pilot if he isn't already. At least, I have more countermeasures against them.

I concentrated and felt a slight tingling in my head, but it was a pleasant sensation.

'Stop!'

'Remove whatever is blocking the restricted area entrance.'

With one of my Image Trait called Instruction, I instructed them to remove every piece of furniture they had put in order to block the door.

I wiped the sweat from my face with a tissue. Controlling them with nearly all my Image Traits was more tiring than expected, obviously due to the sheer number of people present, which is why I didn't mind reducing the numbers a bit to lighten my load, despite the waste. At least I recycled by making all the deaths count.

I had already missed two opening; at least, much more will happen soon enough. It's about time to finish this act.

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Time : Present

Location : Outside the restricted area

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Everyone present cursed internally, 'Damn it!'

Soon, everyone was working together to clear the door access.

Noel laughed bitterly, his whole composure changing, "Hehehehehhe! No matter how hard I try, I change nothing! Hehehehe! My existence is pointless!"

As he moved forward with the rest, he couldn't control his movements, so he couldn't ensure the knife buried in his flesh remained still. It stayed lodged, but more blood began to flow, reddening his clothes even more. The pain jolted his mind, forcing a realization. 'What the… I need to stay calm. I won't give them what they want. If I can't decide how I live, I will decide how I die! I will die with pride!'

Marshal's heart remained calm as he was ready for the eventuality. To begin with, he was ready to kill himself. 'We wasted too much time. One minute less, then-I see. This isn't a coincidence. The supernatural wants to mess with our minds. The only thing I can do is stay calm.'

The chemistry teacher shouted, "Reveal yourself, fiend! At least let me see with my own eyes the culprit behind this madness!"

The overweight man whispered, "Why do I get the feeling that the demon lord wants us alive? I should have killed myself when I had the chance… no, let's be honest I'm too scared to die. At the end, the most likely continuation is nothing…"

'Shut up!'

Soon, every piece of furniture was removed silently from the entrance, and everyone distanced themselves from the doorway.

Footsteps were heard, the door opened, and a man appeared, wearing casual clothes with a slightly below-average look. Nothing else was noteworthy about his appearance.

"So, my toys, you are asking why I—" The man started, but was cut off as several pieces of furniture fell near the entrance, ensuring certain death if they landed on someone… like him. The furniture buried him, with the only proof of his existence being the puddle of blood forming underneath.

The furniture had been hung from an upper floor, with ropes ensuring they would fall when the door opened. As for why the ropes weren't removed? They weren't blocking the entrance, so removing them wasn't in the instructions, and none of them had enough goodwill to execute any additional tasks that might have seemed obvious to do along with the first.

Nobody moved. Most of them blinked several times as if they had seen the most absurd thing in their lives.

'So she… how did she know…' Noel pondered before pausing. He could move now. 'HEHEHE! Actually, I couldn't care less about how this trash died.'

"It's time to go! Let's check the entrances again!" His yell ignited everyone's spirits as if they had been brain-dead. None wanted to rest one second more in this place.

Everyone ran toward the main entrance. Through the glass, they could still only see darkness beyond.

Someone hit the glasses without any effect. "It's still indestructible!"

"We need to leave, but stay calm. The supernatural madman is dead. We just need to wait for the proper authorities to arrive. Don't forget that we're in an immense shopping center with several buildings and countless supplies and furniture, and there are only a few hundred of us. As long as we all stay calm and civilized, nothing bad will happen." Once again, Noel spoke.

The atmosphere calmed.

Despite not understanding what had happened before, Noel's actions had still led to this strange outcome, so it wasn't surprising that everyone listened to him and agreed.

'…I need to find a furniture store and sleep on a bed. …Why not find some milk while I'm at it? At least going to Solaris Plaza wouldn't have been in vain. Ha… ha.' Marshal pondered, but he couldn't even laugh. Despite the jailer's death, this place was still a living hell in their memories, a cemetery. He could only force himself to stay calm. 'There is still… No, killing Noel is pointless, now. It's like killing a cockroach despite countless other remaining. I'd rather leave with no further problems and forget this day.'

"This nightmare is over." Someone approached, breaking down in tears… of laughter! "Bou… bou… BOUHAHAHAKEKE! You thought I would die that easily, stupid!?" Their entire demeanor shifted as they devoured the last bite of a snack, clearly looted from a store. They then gulped down an energy drink, crushing the can before tossing it and the snack wrapper into a nearby trash bin.

"What—" Recognition flashed through many. Not that they had memorized everyone's face, but their brains would know at first glance if this particular person was among the rankers or the unregistered. The obvious conclusion was that the man crushed to death by the furniture was a decoy.

Noel looked at the individual as if he saw a mortal enemy.

"What is your end goal?! Why do you want us to be emotionally unstable?!" It worked on everyone, even those who knew the truth. Hope had finally come, only to be crushed into oblivion.

"No…" A middle-aged woman's legs trembled as the individual stared at her, ignoring Noel.

"What a nasty attempted murder!~ It seems that some of you have already awakened. You did time travel, didn't you, Leila? If not, you wouldn't have registered that fast. Let me guess… in the first iteration you were the last to register and you awakened as you were eaten alive?"

A mad expression filled her face as her body shivered with pure, unfiltered rage. She would have already lashed out at this person countless times if it weren't useless.

"I guessed right!" The tone was irritatingly ill-fitting with the context. "Whatever happens after around four—five minutes is set in stone; this is an Absolute rule that no power or technology can bypass! No matter what happens, you can't escape into the past. In addition, the more forcefully you activate your power, the more cooldown you encounter until finally, you can no longer activate your power at all. A lucky guess of several weeks of cooldown shouldn't be an exaggeration."

Noel blinked several times. 'Time travel?! Awakened…'

Final Conclusion 1 : This whole event is to make us emotionally unstable, which seem to be a requirement for an 'awakening'… into a Supernatural?!

Final Assumption 1 : High emotional state + ??? = Awakening. Most likely whatever confines us, if not awakening would be a daily occurrence… Or I'm mistaken?

Final Assumption 2 : The culprit will use the awakened as controlled slaves, or… is there something else?

'…why do I still feel like I'm missing several strange things since before? There are clear contradictions related to This Person! To what they said.' Despite trying, he couldn't pinpoint the cause of his unease. 'Deep down, it's as if I don't want to find the answers I'm looking for.'

'However,' Noel thought, 'I wouldn't have to think of it if the culprit dies.' He looked at Marshal, knowing from the beginning that he was dangerous and had likely killed before, based on his comments and behavior. 'Or maybe I'm just imagining things… however, I'll soon find out.'

Marshal was walking toward this person. "I don't care who you are. I don't care if you are a supernatural. I don't care if you are a god or a demon. Everyone messing with me will die!"

"Rather than flee, you dare to confront me? How… Intriguing." That person put its hand on its chin, watching Marshal dangerously approaching.

"Where can I possibly go? I checked my map. The only path to freedom is the one through your death." He drew out a knife.

"As you narrow the distance between us, know that you're also closing in on your destiny. Not that you can change anything to begin with." The words were calm, almost amused. Spoken in profile, with only a single eye filled with contempt still fixed on Marshal.

'Five meters… No! Six meters and I'm certain I can kill him with a knife throw,' Marshal thought as he continued forward. He wasn't stupid; normally he wouldn't announce his attack. But somehow, after Leila, the supernatural being had their eyes locked on him, rendering pointless any attempts to catch it off guard. His only option was to announce his intentions, making the individual expect to be stabbed at close range.

'My knife drawing and shooting speed should be less than a second,' Marshal estimated. The individual he approached could literally end this confrontation with a mere thought; not being fast was a death sentence.

'Seven meters…' Marshal readied himself to—

"Stop!"

As the command dictated, Marshal's body froze in place, his head contorting with anger.

"I see… Everything was pointless since the beginning since you can—"

"Also. Shut up!" The supernatural being snapped, stamping his foot against the ground. "Why does everyone here seem too dense to grasp that 'stop' means 'stop'?"

"So, you can read thoughts?" Noel said suddenly.

The tone of this person changed. "…What are you talking about?"

"You controlled the number 3 when he noticed that you shouldn't be aware of what he was doing in the toilet, since, logically, there shouldn't be cameras inside. Knowing that you can speak in our heads, the only explanation was that you could also read them. Also, the whole thing about time travel can't be a guess, no matter how irregularly she acted on camera. You want us not to know you can read minds."

'…Did she hear?' The Supernatural eyes flicked to Leila, who had fainted from the overwhelming emotions.

They checked the time on its phone, 'The most annoying one is dealt with. Enough time has passed; no matter what she does, she can't change anything… actually she didn't change anything apart from leaving this child in another building. Now, let's move on to him.'

Their eyes locked on Noel.

'How did I miss his thoughts?!' The supernatural being pondered, annoyed. 'Like now, his fickle behavior change. I'm the one who is most likely to notice. What made him awaken? Can I repeat the process… or not? To everyone present, I made them feel hell. I even overdid it, yet only two awakened out of hundreds. No wonder why only a few countries use this method… because this is hardly a method but more luck.'

They clicked their tongue in annoyance, laughing. "Of course, I can read thoughts. BOUHAHA! But even if you've figured that out, what good does it do you? Face it, your will of rebellion was pointless since the beginning. At least, your deduction spectacle proved entertaining."

"Yes, I know, I'm not stupid." Noel said, a distressed expression quickly vanishing as it appeared. "But since I can talk, I will continue to do so. I don't see why I should die ignorant."

He paused, something was bothering him and it might be the only occasion to ask. As he was thinking, more tried to attack the supernatural and flee but were frozen in place.

"Thinking about it, could one of the reasons you are doing all of this be because… you are bored?!" Noel's abrupt question caused the person to pause. They scowled, even though the query held no hint of insult, only incredulity. For the first time, anger flickered across their features. "…Wait, really?!"

"Shut up!" The culprit yelled then continued.

"It's time to finish this. All of you should have calmed a little (not that you are calm now). Your emotional rupture point should have gone a little higher… Maybe more will awaken next… or not. A random factor might really be present…" Soon after, the person began to laugh. "It was expected. It's the reason why I needed hundreds to begin with. Then, let's draw the slot!~"

Their tone was obnoxious, like when they announced the games. Before anyone able to move could even think of attacking them or fleeing, an instruction filled the air.

"Everyone stay put and don't talk."

Somehow everyone could feel that this order was stronger than the previous ones, which were temporary.

The culprit took out a device from his pocket. "Over 9000EA of increase for everyone. Ten years ago, you would have been either labeled as supernatural or mentally insane with these readings. It's time to go over the limit."

'By EA, did they mean… EmotiAffecta units?' Soon, Noel saw red. 'THESE F*CKING SCANNERS WERE USED!'

The culprit turned toward Noel, surprised by his internal outburst, yet smirked since Noel seemed angry. "Of course they were used. What better way to measure someone's change in mental state from a distance? Being emotionally unstable can't be quantified, stupid."

The supernatural continued, "Anyway, on the menu: at least some awakenings and a lot of people who are going to bite the dust."

They pressed a device in their pocket and suddenly music played on the building's speakers. Saying that the music was ill-fitting was an understatement.

"Now, everyone remember. Remember the worst moment of your life. Remember what you felt, what you saw, what you heard, smelled. Now continue to remember it in a loop. Just keep thinking of these events again and again."

His command somehow broke his previous command of not moving. And yet, though none left their spots, almost all crumpled in agony. Only Marshal remained upright, but lost in the depths of resurfacing memories, his expression emptied and he began to quake.

Within a mere minute, fifty souls perished from massive heart attacks and strokes (also called brain attacks).

Sweat poured from the perpetrator. 'At least, a few awakenings should happen…'

Suddenly, the old chemist began to yell louder than everyone else and the music playing, before fainting. Her loud breathing indicated that she was still alive.

"It seems the older generation is sturdier than the new one." This person walked toward her and touched her elbow before retracting their arm.

In real time, some second elapsed.

"…I didn't succeed." Sweat continued to drop from their face. 'My stamina isn't unlimited. I need to fuse all my Image Traits correctly in order to create an Image. Even in an Event where it's easier, I didn't have the time to finish. BOUHAHAH! And this is only step one.'

Soon, in addition to the many dropping dead, a few remained alive.

"At last." Their hand retracted from Marshal's elbow. They looked around. 'Now, I need another opening.'

Everyone had collapsed. No one was left standing. And the ill-suited music kept on going.

'No, there are three potential slots remaining — two are unconscious and one is in another building—' They paused and looked in a certain direction, sensing something. 'But he is already—Anyway, I don't care.' They rushed over and soon their hand reached Noel's elbow.

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Noel found himself standing on a dimly lit theater stage, the air chilly yet the spotlights emanating a familiar warmth. A glowing orb materialized before him. Instinctively, he approached it, but as he drew near, it expanded, engulfed him, and dissipated, taking with it the cold he was feeling.

'It's the second time, I'm here. Where exactly am I?'

Noel found himself on a stage, facing rows of clichéd red theater seats. Shadowy, humanoid figures occupied some of them, cloaked in darkness.

Suddenly, the one responsible for his predicament materialized beside him.

"You—" Noel began.

"Don't move and shut up!"

'What is their end goal—'

"Anyway, you can speak. Somehow your thoughts are noisier than your speech."

"What is your end goal—" Noel tried again.

"I never said I would listen to you." The supernatural being ignored Noel and strode to the edge of the stage. "Prepare for something amazing!"

"So, what could possibly justify the deaths of hundreds?" Noel asked, his tone more curious than angry. "Besides boredom, of course."

With the culprit's back turned, Noel couldn't see their expression, but he noticed them nearly stumble at his question.

"Don't trivialize my quest for discovery by calling it boredom!" The figure reached the stage's edge, hands outstretched, pressing against an invisible wall separating them from the spectators.

"You seem eager to reach them. Perhaps to make them devour each other? It must turn you on." Noel taunted.

The Supernatural paused and turned to face Noel. Though silent, their meaning was clear: Speak again, and you'll regret it, you little shit.

"You won't do anything. I've deduced that whatever is happening is tied to my existence. Killing me would certainly close this place. Your goal seems to involve these strange beings, so do as you wish. It's not as if I can change anything."

"Yeah, just like how all the survivors (including you) will become my personal b*tches! You weren't wrong — are you pleased that this deduction is also correct?!" The comment silenced Noel.

Ignoring him, this person turned to the shadowy audience.

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Point Of View change — This Person!

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"BOUHAHAHAKEKEKE!!!"

…Actually, this laugh may be cringe-worthy, as some young people say nowadays, but I can't help it.

One of the Great Mysteries of this world laid bare in front of me: What are these shadowy beings?

I have no doubt that some already know the answer, but they obviously aren't sharing. So, I will find it myself.

By touching the invisible wall, I felt a rule: Nothing can enter nor exit the stage.

It isn't written; I just know it by touching. Even animals, insects, vegetables and mental patients would somehow know and understand the rule as long as it isn't obfuscated.

The only thing that separates me from them is this Absolute rule… To be honest, knowing that I'm still bound by rules infuriates me. However, the thing is that this rule is written on the invisible wall right in front of me, which changes everything.

"Come forward… I didn't give it a name." I paused, thinking of its appearance in addition to how I will use it.

"Come forward, Maestro!" An oversized eye manifested out of nothing, floating with a half-meter diameter — my Image.

'Delete this rule!' The next moments were going to determine if I had wasted my time and risked my life for nothing or not. Unlocking an Image wasn't nothing, but it wasn't worth the risk since I was doing alright without it, and I will soon lose access to my Image Traits, so actually, it was worse than nothing. The funniest thing was that I hadn't even checked what Maestro could and could not do.

Its pupil dilated in its golden iris, somehow looking at the invisible rule on the invisible wall. The whole place trembled. Some lamps fell to the ground making a commotion, yet the brightness didn't dim.

Strangely, I didn't hear anything from the idiot behind me, neither by voice nor thought. I turned around. He was still motionless, his eyes lifeless with only a hint of curiosity as he watched Maestro.

Soon, shattering noises were heard. I turned back around. It still took most of my stamina despite using my Image, but I succeeded. I f*cking succeeded.

All of these spectators stood up, the shadows covering them slowly dissipating as I could finally begin to discern their shape.

Everything was worth it.

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Point Of View change — Noel

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…

…

…

Soon, I regained my train of thought.

Really, the prospect of not having free will, even of thought, was more terrifying than death.

I tried to move. I couldn't. This time, the order wasn't temporary.

I knew it! I should have just stayed home. …No, regret is pointless, and it's not like I could have known what would happen. I tried my best to escape this situation… which wasn't enough.

When did this Person exit the restricted area? After the end of the game? Or later, when we all checked the building entrance, taking advantage of the fact that none of us would bother to check inside? The answer is meaningless now, yet in both cases, I could have devised something since I knew they were getting tired… I forgot. They can still read thoughts.

I cursed, yet I stopped blaming myself. It was an impossible situation from the start. I can only look toward the future, not the past. Even now.

Now, I—

My heart pounded. The shadowy beings began to move.

My fear of people that I had forcefully erased resurfaced, maybe due to the fact that these spectators are complete unknowns. At least, for this person, even though I don't know their motive, the fact that I did talk with them means I know them — they are only some crazy famous person with cognitive powers, thinking of themselves as a genius.

However, these beings… I felt an instinctive fear in my bones. Are they even human?

"T-They are w-what?" I wanted to yell, but only a trembling whisper escaped me, yet the nutcase responsible for all of this heard me since they were nearby.

The culprit didn't turn around, answering with a serious tone. "We will soon find out."

A shadowy being approached the stage, somehow the darkness covering it left its body as it moved, as if it were some foam soap. I could now fully discern its appearance.