Saint Lycoris Academy — 00:34 hoursMission Zone: Faculty Quarters / Eastern Garden
The rain returned tonight.They say the lycoris blooms brighter after a storm—But here, the petals never change shade.Maybe it's because it isn't raining that feeds them.
Mission Log — 14-A / Operative "Lycoris Noir"
Target: Professor Mikael SoenClassification: suspected defector/data leakLocation: Garden Quarters, Wing BParameters: silent entry / silent exitWitnesses: noneExtraction: 01:00 hours
I move through the corridors in near-silence, every step balanced on years of conditioning.Every door opens like a memory; every shadow feels familiar.But tonight there's something … different.A hesitation I can't name.
The target's window glows faintly — warm, domestic light, the kind the academy tries to erase.And in the reflection of that glass, I see him.
Ren.
He shouldn't be here.He's holding a book — one of mine.He must have followed.
Stupid.Brave.Unforgivable.
Internal Echo — Tactical Angel vs. Crimson Doll
[Tactical Angel]: "Mission integrity at risk. Remove variable."[Crimson Doll]: "He followed because he cares."[Tactical Angel]: "He followed because he's curious."[Crimson Doll]: "Curiosity is love with bad manners."
I exhale through clenched teeth.Focus.Execute.
But the hands that draw the blade don't feel like mine.
Inside the Garden Room
The professor looks up as I enter—tired, unsurprised.His hair is silvering; a cup of tea trembles between his fingers.
"So it's me this time," he says quietly. "Who sent you? Violet?"
I don't answer.My voice isn't required for murder.
I step closer.
"You're not like the others," he murmurs. "Your eyes still ask why."
That single word lands where it shouldn't.Why.
The blade lowers a fraction.He notices.
"If you don't kill me, they'll kill you instead.""Then we both die," I say.
A faint scuff behind the door — shoes on stone.Ren.
Internal Split — Dollmaker (First Awakening)
[Voice: Dollmaker]"He saw us again.""He shouldn't have.""But now we can keep him.""We'll keep them all.""Make them beautiful forever."
Something in me breaks —not like glass,but like a thread snapping after being pulled too tight for too long.
The blade slips from my hand.Metal kisses marble.
The professor exhales — not relief, not fear, just disbelief.I turn toward the door, toward the heartbeat hiding there.
"Go back to your room, Ren.""Not until you tell me what's happening.""I can't. You'll hate me.""I don't think I can."
That line cuts deeper than any weapon the Academy forged.
The Choice
Footsteps echo down the hall — the Order's cleanup patrol.They'll kill both of them if I stay still.
So I move.Not as they trained me, but as something newly born.
I grab Ren's wrist, drag him through the side door, out into the rain.
KANA: "Run."REN: "What about you?"KANA: "I'll catch up."REN: "You're lying."KANA: "I'm practiced."
He looks like he wants to argue, but then he sees it—The red light pulsing from the chapel spire.Purge Protocol Activated.
He runs.
Back inside, the professor kneels amid the scent of wet incense.
"You're not supposed to feel pity," he says."I'm not supposed to feel anything," I whisper."Then you're already free."
Gunfire splits the air before the thought can land.He's gone before I can move.
Blood spatters across the prayer book on the table.Its pages flutter open—final entry written in crimson ink:
"Forgive them, for they bloom without choice."
Diary Fragment (Post-Mission)
[Fragment Log #08 — Operation Garden Fall]Objective status: incomplete.Witness: Ren Kaido (escaped).Emotional interference: maximum.
Handwritten note:He saw the blood again.He ran into the rain again.I let him go again.Next time, I'll build something that doesn't leave.
Internal Echo — Dollmaker's Lullaby
"Don't cry.""We'll keep them all safe now.""If they die, we'll remake them.""If they leave, we'll sew them back together."
My hands shake.Blood pools in perfect circles across the marble floor, arranged like petals in a shrine.
I dip a finger into one and trace Ren's outline on the wall —a face made of red and rain.
Outside, thunder folds itself into silence.Sirens wail somewhere far away, too late to matter.
By morning, the Academy will call this another act of Divine Justice.But I know better.
Justice doesn't hum lullabies.
End of Diary #8 — "Operation Garden Fall."