"Okay, let's go."
"I'm sorry, guys. I can't come," Wal said calmly. "I've got some business to take care of."
"Alright," Decible replied. "I'll show you around this place, Cris."
Wal turned and left the building.
After a few minutes, Decible stopped in front of a room.
"Finally, this is the final music instrument hall," he said. "Please come on the 23rd of December. We're hosting a program."
"Okay, sure. I'll come," Cris replied.
Meanwhile…
As Wal walked alone, his mind felt restless.
What just happened?
Why did he suddenly act like that?
Damn it… my plan is ruined.
Lost in thought, Wal suddenly bumped into a girl.
"Oh—sorry!" she said.
"Watch where you're walking," Wal replied coldly.
"I'm sorry, sir."
Wal turned away immediately, but—
"Excuse me," the girl called out. "You look like you're in a hurry. Do you need any help?"
"That's none of your business," Wal said.
"O-Okay…" she replied, clearly disappointed.
As Wal walked away, a memory echoed in his mind—
words once spoken by an orange-haired girl:
"Help everyone who needs it."
Wal stopped.
"…Okay," he muttered. "If you really want to help, introduce yourself first. My name is Wal."
The girl smiled brightly.
"Nice to meet you. My name is Tuna."
"Drop the 'sir' stuff," Wal said. "Just call me Wal."
"Okay, Wal. What can I do for you?"
"I'm new here. Can you tell me about this place?"
"As you wish."
Tuna guided him through the building, showing every section carefully.
"Wow," Wal said, looking around. "You've got some impressive music artifacts."
"Oh, thank you."
"I'll be leaving now."
"Oh—before you go," Tuna said quickly. "There's a program on the 23rd of December. Please visit us."
"Okay."
Later that day…
Wal and Cris exited the building at the same time and headed back to their base.
Unnoticed, someone followed Cris from a distance.
Cris entered the base cautiously.
"Where are you, nerd?" he muttered.
He searched every room—until he stopped.
Wal stood shirtless, doing intense exercises.
His body was covered in scars.
The moment Wal noticed Cris, he quickly grabbed a shirt and wore it.
"Working out?" Cris smirked. "Thinking you can beat me?"
Wal disappeared.
In the blink of an eye, he reappeared inches away from Cris.
"You rely too much on your powers," Wal said quietly. "Dumbass."
The next morning
"Hey, idiot," Cris said. "Loki texted me. Some teammates are coming to help us."
"Okay," Wal replied.
A few minutes later, while inside the base, a faint ping-pong sound echoed.
"…Looks like the new teammates are here," Wal said.
He opened the door.
"Hello, guys. We're back," Yoru said.
Behind him stood a boy dressed entirely in white.
"Hello," he said calmly. "Nice to meet you. My name is—"
Suddenly, an ice ball shot toward him.
Before anyone could react—
A scythe materialized in his hand.
CLANG.
The ice shattered instantly.
"Hey," the boy said gently. "Be careful. You might hurt yourself."
His eyes glowed faintly as the scythe dissolved.
"That's enough," Wal said. "Calm down."
"Yeah, calm down," Yoru added.
Wal looked at them seriously.
"You all know our target, right?"
"Yeah," the boy in white replied. "Something related to sound."
"Exactly," Wal said. "So I want all of you to visit this location on the 23rd of December."
December 23rd — Unknown Location
The old building stood crooked beneath the pale winter sky, its walls cracked, its windows dark like hollow eyes.
Wal stopped in his tracks.
"Woah… I didn't expect this place to be this crowded," he muttered, watching people stream inside as if nothing was wrong.
Cris adjusted his jacket and glanced at the entrance.
"Let's go inside. Come on."
The moment they crossed the threshold, the air changed.
The interior was vast—far larger than the building suggested from outside. Neon lights pulsed softly along the walls, and the sound of distant music echoed like a heartbeat. As they walked deeper, the hall split into four distinct paths, each radiating a different aura.
Wal felt his chest tighten.
Four paths. Four choices.
The Four Rooms
First Path – A brutal, chaotic energy.
A total rock, rap-type vibe, loud and aggressive.
Second Path – Dark, heavy, and hypnotic.
A phonk-type atmosphere, dripping with menace.
Third Path – Calm and warm.
A soft and sweet melody, soothing yet strange.
Fourth Path – Everything at once.
Rock. Phonk. Soft tones. Chaos and harmony blended together.
Classy exhaled slowly.
"Looks like we'll have to split."
Yoru smirked.
"Yeah."
Choices
Classy stepped forward first.
"I'll go into the second room."
Yoru cracked his neck, eyes shining with excitement.
"This feels like a music-themed zone. I like rock—stylish, loud."
He pointed toward the fourth room.
"I'm going there."
Cris clenched his fists.
"I've got my reasons."
Without another word, he walked into the first room.
Wal swallowed. Only one path remained.
"Looks like the third room is mine."
And just like that, they were separated.
Scene Shift — Yoru
The fourth room exploded with sound.
A massive stage dominated the center. Guitars screamed, drums thundered, and a live rock band performed with terrifying intensity. The crowd was alive—jumping, shouting, completely absorbed.
Yoru scanned the room.
"Looks epic. Some of these guys are seriously talented…"
His eyes narrowed.
"Let's hope nothing weird is going on."
The lights suddenly cut out.
Silence.
Then—
a deep, distorted hum crawled through the darkness.
Red emergency lights flickered on, bathing the room in a horror-like glow.
Yoru clicked his tongue.
"Oh shit… speaking of devils."
A distorted voice echoed from the stage.
"Hello, guys."
A shadowy figure stepped forward.
"Everyone here… is going to die."
Before anyone could react, the figure grabbed a random person from the crowd—
—and ripped his head clean off.
Blood splattered the stage.
Screams erupted.
The audience rushed toward the exits, panicking—but the doors wouldn't open.
Then the floor moved.
A shadow-like substance spread across the ground, swallowing people whole as they screamed and vanished.
Yoru stepped back, calm but alert.
"Shadows don't just appear without a reason."
The figure laughed.
"You dare challenge the great Kiro?"
Kiro raised his guitar, strumming a single violent chord.
A compressed soundwave tore through the air, firing straight at Yoru.
Yoru Awakens
Yoru didn't panic.
He dodged lazily, the soundwave tearing past him.
His shadow began to move—wrapping around his body, reshaping itself. A dark hoodie formed, fabric-like shadows clinging to him. His movements became blurry, unreal, as if space itself bent around him.
Yoru smirked.
"Relax. This is my cool side."
His eyes glowed pure white.
Scene Shift — Classy
The second room was elegant—almost peaceful.
Soft music played. Crystal lights shimmered.
Classy smiled faintly.
"Nice… I didn't expect this concert to be this good."
He clasped his scythe loosely.
"Please, God. Let there be no evil here."
The music distorted.
The room transformed—walls dripping with a red-and-black blood-like aura.
Classy's smile widened.
"Ahh… perfect timing."
A voice echoed from the shadows.
"Ladies and gentlemen… hope you enjoyed the concert."
A chuckle followed.
"Oh, sorry. This is actually your last concert. You're all going to die."
Classy tilted his head.
"Even kids don't get scared by you."
The figure growled.
"Who are you?"
Classy lifted his scythe.
"Your end."
Kiro fired a barrage of soundwaves, shattering objects around the room—
—but Classy blocked everything effortlessly, his scythe slicing through sound itself.
He stared coldly at the villain.
"If I remember correctly…"
His eyes narrowed.
"Your name is Wils."
The End of Wils
Wils froze.
"How… how do you know my name?"
Classy stepped forward.
"Because you're not me."
In a single motion, Classy slashed the drums beside Wils.
Wils screamed.
"No—my instruments!"
His hair began to fall out. His skin wrinkled. His body aged rapidly.
Classy spoke calmly.
"Oh. I forgot to mention—my vital instrument destroys other vital instruments."
He smiled.
"They die of old age instantly… and I absorb their power."
Wils reached out, terrified.
"Why… are you saying—"
His body crumbled into ashes.
SileKi.
The stage trembled.
Not from footsteps—
but from sound.
Invisible waves rippled through the massive concert hall, vibrating the air itself. The lights flickered faintly as if struggling to stay conscious. To the untrained eye, it was just loud music.
But to Cris, it was unbearable.
He clenched his jaw, icy breath escaping his lips.
"Ahh…" Cris muttered, pressing two fingers against his temple. "It's been thirty minutes already… and the decibel level is still rising."
Every second felt heavier. The sound wasn't just noise—it was pressure, hammering directly into his senses.
Then—
The lights shifted.
A hush rolled across the crowd like a wave pulling back from shore.
From the top of the grand stage, a beautiful woman stepped into the spotlight.
She wore a flowing white dress, pure and radiant, her long hair loose, cascading freely down her shoulders. The moment she appeared, the audience erupted. Cheers thundered from every direction, drowning out even the instruments.
And when she opened her mouth to sing—
The song didn't just play.
It descended.
The melody wrapped itself around the hall, powerful yet gentle, sending chills through the audience. Even Cris felt his irritation fade slightly.
"This… is getting epic," he whispered.
Scene Shift — Yoru
Far from the spotlight, buried within the shadows of the backstage corridors, Yoru leaned against the wall, eyes half-lidded with boredom.
"Ahh…" he sighed. "This is boring. Don't you have anything better than sound waves?"
His gaze flicked toward Kiro, who stood proudly near a control switchboard, fingers twitching with anticipation.
"That ability of yours," Yoru continued, voice sharp and mocking, "it's painfully dull."
Kiro's expression darkened.
"How dare you insult my move?" he snapped.
Yoru smirked.
"Relax, Grandpa," he said casually. "This ends quickly."
And then—
Yoru vanished.
No footsteps. No sound.
He slipped into his shadow, dissolving like smoke.
Kiro's heart skipped.
"What—?"
A presence appeared behind him.
"Pikaboo."
Before Kiro could react, multiple punches crashed into his body—fast, precise, brutal. Each blow felt like it came from a different direction. Then Yoru disappeared again, melting back into darkness.
Panting, blood dripping from his lip, Kiro steadied himself.
He closed his eyes.
Focused.
A low hum built in the air as sound waves condensed, surging through his body. With a sharp motion, he slammed his palm against the switchboard.
Lights stabilized.
Systems rebooted.
Kiro grinned.
"Hey, dumb kid," he taunted. "Now try to hit me."
Something changed.
Yoru stepped out of the shadows—but his calm expression was gone. His breathing was uneven. His smile twisted into something darker.
His cool side shattered.
Anger flooded him.
"HAHA," Yoru laughed—empty, unhinged. "You old freak."
Kiro's grin faded.
"Huh…?" he whispered. "Who are you?"
His eyes widened.
"You're not the joyful kid anymore."
Yoru tilted his head, eyes cold.
In one second—
A smirk.
In the next—
Slash.
Kiro didn't even feel it.
His body split cleanly in two.
Scene Shift — Wal
The door slid open.
Wal stepped into a quiet room, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Ahh… why didn't they let me choose my favorite room?" he muttered.
He froze.
The stage room was empty—except for a girl standing alone under the dim lights.
She wore spectacles.
Her hair was dark blue, almost black under the shadows.
She clasped the mic nervously.
"Oh! I'm about to sing my first concert…" she thought, excitement buzzing in her chest. "I'm so excited."
Wal blinked.
"…Did you dye your hair, Tuna?"
She turned.
"Oh—hello, Wal," Tuna said softly. "I didn't expect to see you here. I'm really grateful you came… to my first concert."
"Oh. Okay," Wal replied awkwardly.
She hesitated, then smiled.
"Sir—ah—sorry. I mean, Wal. Just wait a few minutes."
After a Few Minutes
Tuna stood center stage.
"Mic check…"
She inhaled deeply.
"To everyone here," she said, voice steady despite her racing heart, "thank you. From the bottom of my heart. This song… is for you."
She began to sing.
The camera slowly zoomed toward Wal, his eyes reflecting the light.
His expression softened.
The camera pushed closer—
into his eye—
And transitioned smoothly into Cris's eyes.
Cris
"Wow…" Cris exhaled. "This concert episode was incredible."
He cracked his knuckles.
"I should go meet and congratulate Decible."
Suddenly—
A strange sensation crawled up his spine.
A crowd surged forward, eyes glazed, movements unnatural.
"Decible…" they whispered.
Cris's eyes widened.
Decible's eye glowed.
His instincts screamed.
Something was wrong.
Then—
POP.
Heads burst—one after another—like balloons.
Blood sprayed everywhere.
Screams never came.
Cris stood frozen, rage and panic twisting inside him as the camera zoomed out—
then snapped back to Tuna's horrified eyes.
After the Song
The final note faded.
Applause exploded.
"Wow," Wal said, clapping. "That was incredible."
"Thank you so much for listening," Tuna said, bowing. "I hope you enjoyed my song."
She stepped down from the stage.
"Hey, Tuna," Wal said. "You could've been an amazing singer… if your sister Decible hadn't damaged your ears and eyes ."
Tuna smiled faintly.
"So… you found out after all," she said. "I expected at least this much from Code-12."
Wal laughed.
"And I never expect anything from Kirila. Especially when your being controlled."
Tuna's eyes widened slightly.
"So… you already knew I was Kirila."
The camera pulled back smoothly—
Revealing 40–50 cameras watching them.
On the big screen—
A woman.
And several figures in coats.
Watching.