Satoru stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, noting the dark circles under his eyes that not even concealer could fully hide. Sleep had been elusive lately, his mind troubled by swirling thoughts he could not silence.
Maya's obsessive stalking was fraying his nerves, even with the temporary escape Paradigm provided. His family's impossible expectations weighed heavier each passing day, a mountain threatening to crush him under its implacable bulk.
The cracks in his perfect facade were spreading, like fissures in a dam about to shatter under the building pressure. He was exhaustive pretending, yet had no choice but to continue this balancing act atop a trembling fault line. Any perceived imperfection would bring his world crashing down.
Splashing cold water on his face, Satoru straightened and headed to his next class. He would get through this day, the same as every other.
Keeping his turmoil concealed was the only way forward. Even if the angry sea churned within, threatening to breach the walls at any moment.
At the ringing lunch bell, Satoru made his way cautiously to the rooftop, scanning for Maya. As he neared, he spotted her already waiting there with a bright smile and overloaded bento boxes.
Of course. Eyes narrowing, Satoru weighed simply walking past and skipping the meal. But refusing her gifts outright could provoke unpredictable reactions. Reluctantly, he approached.
"Satoru, you came!" Maya cheered, her grin nearly cracking her face in half.
Satoru sat an arm's length away and inclined his head politely. As Maya babbled on about her morning, he picked at the rice balls wordlessly, appetite diminished after just a few bites. The gnawing emptiness in his core was beyond any food's power to satisfy.
Noticing Satoru's lack of enthusiasm, Maya's smile faltered. "Aren't you enjoying the meal I made special for us?" When Satoru gave a noncommittal grunt, tears suddenly shimmered in her eyes. "You hate it, don't you? I'm so stupid!" She grabbed the bento box as if to hurl it away in despair.
Satoru quickly reached out to stop her hand. "No, it is delicious, thank you, Maya. I'm just...not feeling well today." The excuse sounded feeble even to him, but it seemed to calm her brewing tantrum. Crisis averted, for the moment. But the cracks within him strained wider with each such encounter.
Over the next days, Satoru fell into an uneasy rhythm of navigating Maya's choking adoration during the school days while finding temporary freedom as Virgil with Nakata's gang in Paradigm's virtual realm at night,
And grinding sometimes as Dante. He knew this precarious balancing act neared its inevitable end, yet saw no clear path forward. And so he continued walking the tightrope swaying wildly in gathering winds.
One evening after dinner, Satoru's self-imposed isolation was interrupted by an unexpected knock. He opened his bedroom door warily to find his older brother Isamu standing there with an easy smile. "Hey little bro, got a minute?"
Too mentally exhausted to make excuses, Satoru simply nodded and stepped aside. Isamu entered and plopped casually down in the desk chair. "Been a while since we talked one-on-one," Isamu began conversationally. "You doing okay? I know things can get intense around here."
Satoru remained silent, unsure how to respond. Sensing his guardedness, Isamu continued gently, "You don't have to pretend with me. Believe me, I get it. Dad's expectations, the competition, keeping up appearances...it's a lot for anyone." Isamu sighed, looking uncharacteristically serious. "Just know I'm here if you need to vent or talk, Satoru. Anytime."
Such earnest directness was rare in this household of veiled agendas. Satoru struggled to respond appropriately. "I...appreciate your concern," he managed formally. "Rest assured I am adequately managing my responsibilities."
Isamu studied his face and seemed about to press further when their father's voice echoed up the stairs, derailing the conversation. "Isamu! Your law school advisor is on the phone. Come down here."
With an apologetic shrug, Isamu exited, leaving Satoru feeling strangely conflicted. Why had his brother chosen now to express such sudden interest in his well-being? Perhaps it was merely performative, at their father's behest. Either way, Satoru preferred to keep his own counsel. Relying on others was a weakness.
Escaping back to Paradigm's digital realm that night, Satoru joined Nakata's gang to explore a lava cavern Virgil had discovered, brimming with rare minerals for crafting into weapons.
However as they delved deeper into the convoluted tunnels, lava oozed in all directions, the pathways confused, disorienting...
...
Satoru clutched his desk to steady himself, the classroom tipping dizzily. He had scarcely slept last night, thoughts racing too frantically for respite. Now exhaustion threatened to shatter his focus during this lecture.
Desperate for stimulation to stay alert, Satoru discreetly slipped a small pill from his pocket and swallowed it dry. Within minutes his senses sharpened, the colors and sounds around him gaining crystalline clarity. Energy and purpose flooded back into his limbs. He could make it to the finish line.
[You have leveled up.]
Maya's voice whispered suddenly right by his ear as a text box appeared in front of him, her breath hot, dripping with desire.
Satoru whipped his head around, but no one was there. His classmates' heads remained bowed diligently over their notes. Had he imagined it? He blinked hard to clear his perception.
Despite his amphetamine-fueled hyper-vigilance, Satoru somehow lost track of Maya as classes ended that afternoon. Usually, she ambushed him before he could escape the school gates, but today the courtyard appeared blissfully empty. Taking advantage, Satoru slipped off campus and headed for home.
Nearing a quiet stretch along the river, Satoru noticed a familiar lone figure standing atop the pedestrian bridge ahead.
Maya. She had been waiting there for him all this time. How did she know which route he would take? Spine-tingling with unease, Satoru turned down a side alley to circumvent the bridge. If he could just avoid this confrontation...
But when he emerged cautiously back on the main road, there Maya stood blocking his path once more. Had she predicted his evasion? Satoru felt dizzy, wondering if he was losing his grip on reality.
Wordlessly, he moved to step around Maya. Her hand shot out, seizing his wrist with startling strength as a sinister grin split her face.
The touch galvanized Satoru like an electric current. With a vice-like grip, he forcefully broke Maya's hold, causing her to gasp as they locked eyes. "Leave. Me. Alone." Satoru ground out each word slowly with blunt force. Then he pushed past, leaving Maya staring after him open-mouthed. His heart hammered the rest of the hurried walk home.
Upon entering his bedroom, Satoru locked the door and collapsed trembling onto his bed, overwhelmed by the confrontation. Dark, primal urges welled up inside, goading him to lay waste to everything binding and controlling him.
Barely keeping those reckless impulses in check, Satoru fumbled to load up Paradigm Online, desperate for cathartic release. But error messages flashed - service unavailable, try again shortly.
Satoru cried out, hurling his VR helmet across the room. It clanged loudly off the wall, cracking a picture frame. So even this sanctuary was denied him now? He squeezed his head, feeling splintering madness taking hold....
Rousing groggily the next morning, Satoru vaguely recalled his outburst last night. His bruised hand and the dented VR helmet sitting amidst broken glass on the floor made the events real, not just some nightmare. He had slipped the leash, if only briefly.
Checking online, Satoru confirmed Paradigm had suffered extended downtime due to server issues.
Arriving at school, Satoru kept vigil for Maya, but strangely she appeared to be giving him space today.
While relieved, her behavior still struck him as ominous. A cornered animal was most dangerous right before striking. He could not afford to lower his guard.
As lunch period ended, Nakata intercepted Satoru outside the classroom. "Dude, where were you last night? We waited forever but you never showed up." Before he could reply, Maya seemingly materialized at Satoru's side.
"Hi Satoru! Ready for next period?" As always her presence made Satoru's skin crawl, but her cheerful obliviousness to his unease was masterful.
After casting a curious glance between them, Nakata slunk off grumbling. Crisis averted, but Satoru knew he was running out of ways to juggle all these spinning plates. Everything teetered at the precipice...
...
[Welcome back to Paradigm Online. Patch notes: Improved server stability.]
The familiar system message greeted Satoru as he once again donned the VR headset that evening, desperate to unwind after the harrowing school day. His Dante avatar loaded into the central square, unchanged from his last visit. The promised "Grand Update" still loomed ahead, but at least access was restored for now.
Satoru decided to message Nakata's gang from his Virgil account, explaining the server issues had prevented him from logging on last night. He promised an epic adventure tonight to make amends. That should smooth things over gracefully.
Their enthusiastic replies lifted Satoru's mood slightly. Inside this virtual realm, bonds and goals were straightforward, unburdened by real-world pressures and facades. If only reality's tangled social knots could be severed so cleanly.
As Dante, Satoru ventured outside the city gates seeking to release pent-up frustrations from the day's events.
He cut a path of destruction through the grassy hills bustling with wildlife, his victims fading into pixilated bursts accompanied by lines of coded feedback. Advance, cut down, repeat. The predictability soothed his chaotic mind.
After claiming dozens of virtual lives, Satoru began feeling the violence losing its savor. As bloodlust faded, a hollow loneliness crept back in. Why did the release never linger? Was fruitless fury all he had to sustain him?
Lost in brooding thoughts, Satoru did not notice the figure stealthily approaching Dante from behind until cold steel suddenly pressed against his neck.
"One wrong move and you die, boy." The voice was mysterious and organic. This was no scripted NPC bandit.
Satoru froze. How could another player sneak up on him so flawlessly? Only one possibility came to mind - this was the infamous rogue who stalked the forests, preying on any who challenged her dominance. The [Shadow of Death] Ranked 2nd in the game.
Heart pounding, Satoru dropped his sword and raised his hands slowly. The blade at his throat eased slightly in response. "What do you want from me?" Satoru asked steadily, despite his spiking adrenaline.
The rogue chuckled. "I simply wish to see your face before you perish." With the flick of a dagger, Satoru's health bar plunged as his avatar was forcibly spun around.
Satoru found himself staring up at a face concealed by a black mask. Only the rogue's piercing silver eyes were visible above it. So the legends were true - she never fully revealed herself, adding to the allure of mystery. Satoru couldn't help but feel anger despite his predicament.
[Dante had died] the screen said.
Logging off with anger, Satoru ate a late dinner before sinking into bed, the day's exhaustion hitting hard.
But sleep brought only fitful visions of a masked rogue with piercing silver eyes...and Maya's face distorting monstrously as she reached for him from the darkness.
Satoru shot up gasping, heart hammering. Dawn's light was already filtering through the curtains. Realizing he had overslept, Satoru scrambled to dress and gather his books.
No time even to check messages or eat. He would have to figure out excuses on the run. So much for appearing composed.
Arriving late and breathless, Satoru endured the first-ever scolding from the teacher punctuated by snickers from classmates. Keeping his head down to avoid their gazes, Satoru slid into his seat next to a mercifully silent Maya. At least she appeared oblivious to his shame today.
Classes proceeded uneventfully until music when the teacher unexpectedly called Satoru up to play piano again for a visiting parent. Jaw clenched, he moved to comply when suddenly Maya's hand clamped down on his wrist. "Satoru isn't feeling well, sorry! Can someone else play?" she called out earnestly. Satoru froze, unnerved by this jarring deviation from her script.
Flustered, the teacher quickly shuffled some students to perform while Satoru remained frozen in place, heart thudding. Maya's grip finally relaxed as she beamed up at him. "See? I protected you today." The words dripped with unspoken implications that Satoru dared not examine too closely.
Shakily, he managed a weak nod of thanks before turning his gaze firmly ahead. But his mind kept spiraling down into the darkness he knew lay coiled just below Maya's surface, waiting to drag him fully into the depths....
....
At home, Satoru stood rigid in the cramped living room while his parents fussed over the final preparations for the dinner party.
Guests would arrive soon to mingle, dine, and discuss their children's bright futures, putting on a classy performance even as subtle rifts of rivalry and judgment opened between them. It was an endless play where imperfections ruined your show.
"Remember Satoru, humility and grace," his mother remarked while straightening his bowtie. His father nodded approvingly. "You represent this family's future. Make the right impression." Satoru swallowed down the bitter bile their platitudes ignited. He was just another showpiece to adjust until perfectly aligned in their curated exhibit.
The doorbell chimed, heralding the first arrivals. Satoru prepared to don his smiling mask and perform his role flawlessly. But as the guests filtered in, his thoughts kept spiraling back to last night's strange encounter in Paradigm. The rogue's words haunted him...
"I simply wish to see your face before you perish."
An odd foreboding had clung to Satoru since that meeting.
Satoru thought of one thing, he needed revenge.
"What do you think, Satoru?"
His mother's question jolted him back to the tedious present. The guests were all seated around the dining table, waiting expectantly for his response. Satoru straightened in his seat, smoothing his expression.
"My apologies, could you please repeat the question?" Polite smile fixed, he focused wholly on playing his part. No distractions.
Late that night, Satoru logged on to check for any Paradigm update news. Finding only the usual rumors, he switched over to Virgil to message Nakata's gang for a meetup. Their group name [Rising graves] they now called themselves, edgy teens hungry to prove themselves as badasses in this digital realm. If only they knew who truly pulled the strings.
Glancing at his stat bars, Satoru noticed Dante's health was still partially high compared to Virgil. The sight stirred that restless obsession in Satoru again. He longed to re-enter those untamed lands and get his revenge...
Donning his headset, Satoru spawned Dante back into the grassy hunting zone where the ambush occurred.
[Dante respawned]
The landscape seemed deceptively peaceful now under the virtual moon's glow. Dante drew his zweihander cautiously, senses attuned to the stillness around him. If that rogue was out here now, Satoru would turn the tables and catch her unaware.
Stealthily Dante made his way towards the nearby forest line, seeking any signs of life. But the woods appeared empty aside from harmless wildlife skittering about. After searching extensively, he was forced to conclude his quarry had moved on is his killer not online?
With a disappointed sigh, Satoru prepared to log out and switch back to Virgil's persona. But just then, his headset speakers hissed with a voice transmission request from an unknown user. Intrigued, he accepted.
"You return to the scene of your demise, I see." The rogue's sly tone instantly raised Satoru's hackles. She had been watching and chosen this moment to engage. Impressive.
Satoru composed himself before replying. "you need more than that to scare me." Casually he added, "I don't get your reasons for targeting me, but I am no ordinary player." Let the rogue interpret that as a boast or warning.
A raspy chuckle answered through the speakers. "Oh, I am well aware of who you are...Satoru."
Satoru's blood turned to ice. His real identity should be impossible to discern here. What game was this rogue playing? "You seem to have me at a disadvantage then," Satoru replied calmly, betraying none of his spiking anxiety.
"Since you know my name, perhaps I can know yours?" He held his breath awaiting the answer...
Instead, a notification flashed abruptly across Satoru's display.
[Feedback loop error detected. Please wait while debug protocol initiates...]
Satoru stood frozen, heart pounding as the rogue's words echoed in his ears: "I know who you are, Satoru..."
This masked player had pierced his anonymity, exposing his true self hiding behind Dante's digital mask. Satoru's mind raced, weighing options for how to respond, when suddenly his immersion was shattered.
[Connection lost. Reestablishing link in 10, 9, 8...]
The Paradigm fantasy faded abruptly, replaced by Satoru's bedroom. Cursing, he tore off the malfunctioning headset and saw his internet router flashing erratically. A bad storm must be interfering with the signal.
The door creaked open and Satoru spun, ready to lash out. But it was only his sister Fumiko poking her head in timidly. "Sorry, the wifi is out from the weather. I was going to stream a show but I guess not."
Seeing Satoru's rigid posture, she added "Are you okay? You seem really tense lately. If you ever want to talk..."
"I'm fine," Satoru said sharply, regretting his tone when Fumiko shrank back. Softening, he added "Just frustrated. Thank you for your concern."
Fumiko studied him a moment before backing out and sliding the door closed. Satoru sat heavily on his bed, emotionally drained. Even his sister was noticing the cracks in his facade now. He resolved to be more vigilant going forward.
With the storm still raging outside, Satoru realized sleep would likely evade him tonight. The unfinished business with the rogue gnawed at him. He considered working ahead in his schoolbooks, but the texts all swam meaninglessly before his eyes.
His thoughts kept returning to the mysteries surrounding Paradigm Online. How had the rogue uncovered his identity? And what was his endgame? The answers seemed inexorably tied to the game's enigmatic origins.
Satoru opened an encrypted digital folder on his computer containing all the data he had aggregated about Paradigm and its developers. He was interested in the game's history it came out of nowhere so he hoped combing through it again might reveal some insight.
Most of the information came from Emperor, who had a knack for uncovering hidden truths. Financial records, personnel dossiers, internal design documents - Satoru had compiled everything he could to better understand this world he had become so reliant on as an escape.
Yet the more he read, the more questions arose. The key figures behind Paradigm Online were ghosts. Anonymous developers, clandestine funding sources, bureaucratic misdirections... It was as if some entity had constructed this digital realm in secret and sought to erase all traces of its origins. But why?
The records suggested initial funding had come through several pharmaceutical and technology firms. But those companies disavowed any connection, likely cover entities. Who ultimately pulled the strings behind Paradigm, and for what purpose?
Satoru closed the encrypted archive, no closer to answers. A dead end for now. He glanced at his phone - 3 AM. The storm still lashed the windows, thunder punctuating his turbulent thoughts.
Logging into the Paradigm forums on his phone, Satoru saw the mysterious server errors were affecting players worldwide tonight as the storms raged everywhere.
No one could access the virtual escape. Like caged addicts, their collective anxiety was palpable.
One raging thread caught Satoru's eye - players cursing the unseen "admins" for the downtime and demanding restitution. Admin... Satoru realized the answer had been before him this whole time.
The original Paradigm developers used the handle World54 when making official posts. That account had been inactive for over a decade, but must still exist on the backend with total system access. If Satoru could somehow hack the World54 admin controls, he might finally uncover Paradigm's secrets.
But breaching an administrator account required skills far beyond his own. Then Satoru remembered Emperor.
Closing the forums, Satoru attempted to quiet his racing thoughts and grab some rest before school. But sleep remained elusive, his mind abuzz with revelations that felt just out of reach, if only he could pierce the shadows veiling them...
Satoru arrived at school bleary-eyed, having finally dozed off as dawn broke. In English class, he found himself staring numbly ahead until a crumpled ball of paper bounced off his desk.
Unfolding it, Satoru saw a handwritten note in barely legible writing: "Meet on the school roof during free period. - N"
Satoru's brow furrowed. N could be Nakata, but how did he expect them to sneak away unnoticed? While troubled by his pawn's audacity, Satoru realized he needed to placate Nakata after missing their Paradigm meetups lately. Best to indulge him briefly.
When the period ended, Satoru headed upstairs, ducking past distracted guards. Nakata awaited him on the roof, pacing anxiously. "Finally! About time you showed up in person too." He flashed a yellow-toothed grin.
Satoru remained impassive. "What was so urgent?"
Nakata's smile faded. "Look, the guys are pissed at being constantly blown off lately. You act all high and mighty in Paradigm, but here you ignore us like you don't know us are we not friends at this point?." He lowered his voice conspiratorially, "Rumor is you've been hanging around that freaky Maya chick. People will talk."
Satoru bristled at Nakata's insolent tone. "My affairs are none of your concern. I suggest you watch yourself." He turned to leave.
"Wait wait, hey, I'm just saying we need some attention too." Nakata's voice took on a wheedling pitch. "Tomi had an idea, actually. To get us noticed again."
Satoru paused, guarded but intrigued. "Go on then."
"The school dance is coming up, right? We're gonna smuggle some fireworks from my cousin's shop and light it up at the hall scaring everyone!" Nakata mimed an exploding gesture. "Something people will remember us by when we're long gone from this dump, but i want you to light one as well you know we are friends aren't we?"
Satoru contemplated this proposition. it was risky but he can't let Nakata get out of his hand. "I see potential in that," he conceded. "But we must time it flawlessly."
Nakata seemed satisfied. As they left the roof separately, Satoru's mind turned to manipulating this planned spectacle to his advantage. But he had other reckonings to focus on first...
The final bell rang, releasing Satoru into the slanted afternoon light. He moved with haste, hoping to avoid any ambushes from Maya. Sure enough, he spotted her waiting by the gates but slid deftly into a departing group of students to lose himself in the crowd.
Walking briskly downtown rather than risking the direct route home, Satoru soon reached the entryway of what appeared to be just another office complex.
-------
Taking a fortifying breath, he entered and made his way to the top executive suite. The engraved nameplate read "Fujimoto Pharmaceuticals Labs." Time to get some answers.
Satoru passed several vacant reception desks until he reached the cavernous corner office. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the bustling city below, but he ignored the scenic view. His focus was on the large antique bureau situated almost out of place among the sleek minimalist furnishings.
Approaching cautiously, Satoru inspected the ornate carvings adorning the cabinet. His eyes settled on a tiny, stylized symbol embedded in the design that depicted a robed man meditating beneath a tree. Jackpot.
Pressing gently on the symbol, Satoru heard a faint click as a concealed latch disengaged. He pulled open the cabinet's top drawer to reveal a glowing console with a wired VR headset. Emperor had told him about this place last night, he was sure this was one of the donators to Paradigm.
Checking the office door was still locked; Satoru sat behind the imposing wooden desk and donned the waiting headset as the system powered up.
[Welcome Emperor] Scrolled across his vision before a detailed avatar manifested before him - An ancient cyberpunk kimono with dozens of talismans a black cyber mask over half his face and long flowing white hair.
He stood atop a gleaming skyscraper overlooking Paradigm City's central hub district. Satoru surmised this was the Emperor's private pocket server. Useful for undisclosed dealings, though Satoru knew better than to wholly trust this guileful hacker.
Emperor's modulated voice came through Satoru's headphones. "So you finally came. I had wondered." He chuckled. "The real world boring you lately?"
"It's just fascinating, all of this mystery about Paradigm" Satoru replied bluntly. "You claim to know things. Prove it."
Another duplicate of the same avatar of Emperor appeared beside Satoru.
"Straight to business then. I suspected your visit regarded recent...disruptions." He gestured outward toward the gleaming metropolis. "You wish to know Paradigm's purpose. Its architects' grand design."
Satoru crossed his arms impatiently. "You said you had information. I have little time for riddles and cryptic teasing." He would tolerate only as much dramatic flair as necessary here.
Emperor laughed, an unsettling mix of organic and modulated tones. "Impatient too! Very well then." He snapped his fingers, and the vivid cityscape dissolved into nebulous fractal shapes.
"What you see here is just a shell - the illusion of Paradigm for its denizens to inhabit." As Emperor spoke, ghostly wireframe constructs took form around them - server architecture, neural networks, data pillars feeding the simulation.
"But what lies beneath?" With another snap, reality itself seemed to peel away. Satoru now stood in a vast void, surrounded by an expansive sphere latticed with intricate circuitry and pulsing with eerie light. Emperor floated nearby, watching him intently.
Gesturing to the preternatural superstructure encompassing them, Emperor intoned, "Behold Paradigm's true shape. Not game, but an experimental manifold harnessing unconscious energies. A symbiosis of technology and the psyche."
Satoru's scattered research had hinted at such suppositions before, but this transcended his imaginings. Mind reeling, he managed to ask, "An experiment? but why what was the point?"
Emperor drifted closer, his voice low. "You can look at the darkness lurking in men's souls. Paradigm was envisioned as a release valve for those roiling tensions. Letting the ID run rampant in a digital sandbox to avoid spillover into reality."
Satoru's thoughts went to his own seething frustrations and barely repressed urges toward destruction as Dante. Was he just one of many such troubled psyches drawn here to vent their anti-social impulses in a consequence-free environment?
As if reading his thoughts, Emperor went on, "Yet changing nature is never so simple. New complexities arise... Subjects display an unhealthy fixation in Paradigm. Addictive, obsessive tendencies." His gaze seemed to pierce Satoru despite the mask.
"Why did Paradigm creators make it to show humanity's destructive instincts?" Satoru countered pointedly. "Some grand social engineering scheme?"
Emperor shrugged. "One man's utopia is another's induced madness. The divides between unity and control can blur in such pursuits, It needed that darkness to power something so it builds it up." He regarded Satoru curiously. "But what will you do with such revelations?"
The question gave Satoru pause. He had sought understanding merely as a means to gain an advantage in these virtual power struggles. But knowledge bore responsibility. With a deep breath, he replied "I am not sure, even if I stop playing Paradigm it's pointless other people will i can just continue until I see the grand vision."
Emperor chuckled approvingly. "Wise enough answer." With a wave of his hand, the boundless void faded back into Paradigm City's familiar skyline.
Satoru understood he would extract no further clarity from the shrewd hacker today.
But his horizons had expanded exponentially in mere minutes. This system's scale and complexity ran deeper than any could fathom.
Removing the headset, Satoru found himself back in the quiet office as dusk's shadows stretched across the floor. He had much to process from this illuminating interlude.
But other reckonings still awaited outside these temporary refuges. Steeling himself, Satoru departed to face the coming darkness.
He guards up as he walks homeward up he sees Maya from a distance stalking him again in a visible place.
Satoru walked steadfastly onwards, keeping his gaze fixed ahead even as his peripheral vision tracked Maya trailing him at an unwavering distance.
Like a bloodhound, she followed his scent wherever it led, undeterred by all efforts to lose her.
He contemplated confronting her directly again, making clear in no uncertain terms that her invasive attentions were intolerable.
But doing so risked triggering an unstable reaction. The passive influence of her looming presence was maddening enough without adding fuel to the fire.
So Satoru carried on in silence, trying futilely to ignore his stalker's oppressive aura infringing constantly upon his thoughts. Their twisted choreographed dance continued block after block until finally he reached his house.
Maya paused down the street, still watching him with a haunting gaze even as he stepped inside and locked the door. Shut away from her physical form, but her spirit permeated deeper still.
Satoru slumped against the door, pulse throbbing in his ears. How much longer could he bear her smothering specter before he snapped? He had weathered so much already, but Maya's parasitic presence burrowed into him like an infestation seeded in his very thoughts. Perhaps the only solution was to burn everything down and walk away reborn from the ashes.
[4 days until the grand update]
Over the Days, Satoru fell deeper into a haze of simply struggling day to day against the inexorable tides eroding his defenses. He moved through classes on autopilot, evading Maya's clinginess as best he could while keeping up a facade of composure slowly cracking at the seams.
At home, maintaining appearances before the family took all his fading reserves of mental energy. The constant performative song and dance was pushing him ever closer to an inevitable breaking point. He began self-medicating more frequently to get through the days, popping pills in bathroom stalls when the pressure peaked. It was the only way to keep holding on.
Satoru's sole escapes came through Paradigm Online, submerging his psyche in Dante and Virgil's violent catharsis and Machiavellian scheming. At night he would prowl the darkest forest zones as Dante, seeking that enigmatic rogue who somehow knew his name.
Their paths had yet to recross, but Satoru remained obsessed with unraveling the mystery.
As Virgil, he reluctantly continued fueling Nakata's crew's reckless ambitions, subtly manipulating them towards his own goal which was making them kill his parents he knew that wouldn't be easy at first, he was only doing it for weeks but now he knew he needs to continue to do it for a while.
Their planned fireworks stunt at the upcoming school dance could be the perfect catalyst for the reckoning rapidly approaching like a juggernaut.
The day of the dance arrived, and Satoru prepared mind and body like a warrior girding for battle. He avoided medication, wanting his senses sharp and adrenaline pure. His finely tailored suit was armor in its own way, presenting the facade of control even as chaos churned beneath. The time had come at last to watch his labors bear fruit.
The ballroom event progressed just as inanely as Satoru had expected based on his forced studious observations. He played the role of a perfectly mannered date for a besotted underclass girl, while subtly tracking the movements of key pawns among the crowd. All proceeded precisely according to plan until he felt a familiar, clawing presence over his shoulder.
Maya stood radiant in a sequined gown, watching his every move with hungry eyes. "Dance with me, Satoru," she commanded more than asked. Before he could react, she seized his hands and pulled him close, leading them in graceful turns across the floor.
Satoru suppressed his revulsion at her unwanted proximity. It was crucial he maintained this front just a bit longer. The dominoes teetered, awaiting the perfect flick...
After the torturous dance, Maya finally released her grip, trailing a few steps behind as Satoru slipped into the swelling crowd. He spotted Nakata and his gang gathered near the building's rear service entrance, dressed in caterers' uniforms as their cover. Satoru moved to join them, when suddenly the hall's lights cut out, plunging all into darkness. Right on cue.
Chaos erupted as students panicked in the dark. Teachers' futile shouts to remain calm were ignored amidst the din. In the perfect distraction it provided, Satoru met his co-conspirators outside. Tomi handed Satoru a bundle of fireworks with an eager, devious grin. The first phase was completed flawlessly. Now for the main event.
Satoru's focus narrowed to only the present as he moved with calm purpose while bedlam continued inside. Stepping out into the cool night, he struck a match and held it to the fuse, shielding it from the breeze. The spark crept slowly up the wick, about to ignite the volatile payload...
Suddenly, the first firework exploded early in Satoru's hands. He cried out, dropping the bundle as a second firework shot off erratically, streaking into the sky. Satoru's ears rang painfully but through it, he heard laughter behind him.
Spinning, he saw Nakata and the others howling and pointing mockingly at his shocked expression. "Guys look what is Satoru trying to do!!" Tomi jeered, whipping out his phone to snap pics.
Rage flooded Satoru's senses, his inner persona's bloodlust superseding all reason. With a guttural cry, he lunged at the insolent punks with only the intent to maim and disfigure them.
But suddenly vice-like grips seized Satoru's arms from behind, lifting him bodily. Through the haze, he realized campus security had caught them first, and pinned the blame on him alone but he didn't talk he only looked at the bullies with bloodshot eyes.