In Sector 6, Building 4, Floor 3, Room 200, Noah stood frozen, shocked by the scene in front of him—a knife pierced the body of a girl lying on her bed. Blood gushed heavily to the floor, dripping from her red, blood-soaked blanket. The floor had turned into a pool of crimson, leaving no clean spot in sight. Noah stood paralyzed, stunned. A man stood before the girl's corpse, his back to Noah. He wore a black cloak, like the darkness itself, silently watching the body. An oni mask was placed on the victim's face.
"Shit!," Noah muttered, overwhelmed with confusion and stress. Sweat trickled from his forehead down to his cheek, and his heart pounded louder with every drop of blood that fell from the bed and splashed into the pool below.
Noah took a dry gasp, trying to steady himself. He knew he had to move. At that moment, he unleashed a transparent field, ready to attack—but then a larger field of darkness overwhelmed his own, and Noah could no longer see anything around him.
"W-What is this?!" Noah thought nervously, turning around. This wasn't just a skill activating an aura—it felt like he had been transported somewhere else entirely.
Then he heard flapping. His senses sharpened with fear as the sound drew closer.
Suddenly, a spotlight shone down from above, casting Noah in blinding light like he was on a theater stage. He raised his head, shielding his eyes from the glare, only to see the beam like a theatrical spotlight—a watchful eye tracking his every move.
The fluttering came closer. Noah turned toward the sound and saw a flock of doves flying toward him. He ducked to avoid them. Their wings scattered white feathers across the air, like it was raining from the sky.
Then Noah looked up—and froze.
In front of him was a massive theater audience. Countless people stared at him, watching intently. They wore lavish, formal clothing, but their faces were hidden—like a void. Every part of them that wasn't clothed was invisible. Only their garments were visible.
"W-What is this?" Noah muttered in confusion, taking a step back, startled by the crowd—until his back hit a wall.
He turned to see a giant mirror behind him, reflecting his own image. To his shock, he was now dressed differently: a long, black, tailed coat flowed behind him like a heavy shadow, catching light with grim elegance. A tall black hat sat atop his head, and a monocle covered his right eye. White gloves adorned his hands, reflecting the stage lights, and under the coat, he wore a tight dark vest cinched at the waist. In his right hand, he held a polished cane with a finely carved handle—an image of old-world authority and grace.
"W-What the hell?!" Noah exclaimed, his voice shaky. The change in surroundings was one thing, but this costume—he looked like a magician—was something else entirely.
"Come on!" someone in the crowd shouted, making Noah turn toward them.
"We don't have all day!" barked another voice, gruff and impatient.
"I can't believe I paid for this performance," someone muttered with a groan, which prompted a wave of murmurs.
"I absented myself from the sanctity of afternoon tea — the sole reprieve in this bleak existence — for what can only be described as a carnival of idiocy!"
"Utterly dreadful. I've seen soggy toast with more promise!"
"It appears I have sacrificed the irreplaceable privilege of attending my own son's birth — just to endure this unmitigated circus of incompetence!"
"Do us a favour and remove yourself kindly from the boards immediately!"
"that job's not for you, love"
"W-What is going on?" Noah whispered, pressing back against the mirror. He scanned the crowd—those greedy, soulless eyes demanding more. The kind of eyes he despised. The kind that throws you away when you're no longer entertaining.
"My dear audience, I sincerely apologize!" a voice called from behind the curtain, stepping onto the stage beside Noah.
To Noah's shock, it was Livia. She wore a tailored dark blazer cinched at the waist, a light gray shirt, and charcoal trousers. A stylish leather utility belt circled her hips. Fingerless black gloves adorned her hands, and she wore low-heeled black leather shoes. Her hair was tied back or tucked under a small work hat.
"L-Livia?" Noah stammered. With every passing second in this place, his confusion grew.
Livia stood beside him, taking his hand as she apologized to the audience.
"Go backstage. I'll handle them," she whispered firmly, prompting Noah to head behind the red curtains into the backstage area.
"What the hell just happened?" Noah thought, looking back at Livia as she addressed the crowd.
Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he found Sirius standing there as well.
Sirius wore a classic jester costume in vibrant red, blue, and yellow, patterned with diamonds, ruffled collar and puffy sleeves. His pants were wide and wavy, and his pointed shoes jingled with tiny bells. A three-pronged hat with bells topped his head. His face was painted white, with red circles on his cheeks, black streaks under his eyes, and a big red-painted smile.
"S-Sirius? Wait, what the hell are you wearing?!" Noah asked, more confused than ever.
"This is my usual outfit. Anyway, what happened out there? You froze like you saw a ghost. What's wrong?" Sirius asked with concern and confusion.
"Pfft," a laugh slipped from Noah's lips. He couldn't take Sirius seriously in that outfit.
"What are you laughing at?" Sirius asked, puzzled, seemingly unaware of how ridiculous he looked.
"Don't you see your clothes? You look like—" Noah began, laughing between words.
"Like a jester, I know. I am your jester, after all," Sirius interrupted, stopping Noah mid-laugh and leaving him dumbfounded.
"My jester?" Noah asked, baffled. Since when did he have a personal jester? And why Sirius of all people?
"You're acting strange today," Sirius said, puzzled by Noah's behavior, though his words only confused Noah more.
"What are you talking abou—" Noah began, before yelping in pain from a slap on his back. He turned and found Livia standing there.
"W-Why did you do that?!" Noah grunted, holding his back like an old man.
"What do you mean 'why'? What are you doing, huh?! The audience is bored and waiting for their magician, and you're just standing there like a soulless puppet!" she barked, frustrated.
"M-Magician? There's a magician here?" Noah asked, startled, looking around—until Livia slapped him again, harder this time, right on the shoulder.
"Why again?!" Noah cried out, annoyed. He was sure that shoulder had turned red by now—if not for this stupid outfit, he might've seen the bruise.
"You're the magician, you idiot! Did you lose your memory or something?! You agreed to play the role, remember?!" Livia snapped.
Noah only looked more lost, which pushed Livia closer to smacking him again—until Sirius intervened.
"D-Director, I think Noey-kun's just a little disoriented. Why don't you take a break while I talk to him?" Sirius said gently, stopping Livia in her tracks.
"Hmph. Just hurry, before the audience gets bored again!"
"I'm seriously lost. Where the hell am I? Why am I dressed like this? Why are Sirius and Livia acting like this is normal? Is this a dream? Where was I even before this?… I found the killer, and just as I was about to attack—I ended up here… Is this an illusion? Or a dream?" Noah wondered, deeply anxious.
"You okay?" Sirius asked, still confused and worried.
"What the hell is going on…?" Noah muttered, staring at the empty stage before him.
"You seem confused. I guess I'll start from the top. This is our theater, 'The House.' It's our debut show. That's why Director Livia is being extra strict today," Sirius said, slowly explaining.
"Livia is the director?" Noah asked, stopping him.
"Oh, right. You forgot again. She's our backstage spymaster. Usually the one handing out orders when you're slacking off," Sirius added with a casual smile, as if blaming Noah.
"I slack off? And why would I even be giving you orders?" Noah wondered aloud, lost.
"Anyway, since our magician's absent today, you're playing his role," Sirius clarified, pointing at Noah.
"Wait… b-but I'm not a magician," Noah stammered, stepping back in panic.
"Right. You're not a magician. You're the actor. And an actor can play any role. Isn't that what you always say?"
"…Excuse me?"
———————
Meanwhile, outside...
Noah lay unconscious on the floor, deep in sleep. The killer stood beside him. The oni mask on the girl's face glowed briefly. The killer took it, putting it back on. He then pulled the knife from her chest and waved it, flicking off the blood. He stepped closer to Noah—
"Don't kill him," a voice ordered. The killer had a headset in his ear, receiving instructions.
"He's important for the next phase," the voice said.
It was… Cyprian.
The killer stepped back, picked up the girl's body, and walked toward the wall. A shadow gathered ahead of him like a door. He passed through it, and the shadow vanished. Light flooded the room again—revealing Noah lying near the door, surrounded by blood.
Finally, the elevator dinged. The doors opened—Callie and Livia stood inside. They saw Noah unconscious on the floor.
"Noah!!" Callie screamed, running to him, dropping to her knees and shaking him, ignoring the blood.
"Noah! Noah, answer me—" she cried, checking for a pulse against his chest.
"H-He's alive," Callie said, relieved. She exhaled deeply, then looked around at the pool of blood covering the floor.
"O-Oh my God…" she whispered, covering her mouth in horror.
Livia followed and stood stunned at the scene—but what struck her most was the missing body.
She reached for her phone, ready to call the university hospital—but then stopped.
"If I report this and say Noah was here… some people will question why he was in the girls' sector. Add this grotesque scene, and rumors could spread. Vile bastards might start blaming Noah…" she thought, then clicked her tongue in frustration and slipped her phone away.
"Help me carry him out!"
———————
"E-Excuse me?" Noah said, stunned by Sirius's words.
"Huh? Isn't that what you always say? That an actor can play any role?" Sirius asked, confused, assuming he was mistaken.
"I said that? Since when?" Noah said, shocked, stepping back again.
"Noey-kun, did you forget? We all have identities that prove our existence—except you. You're the one who can become everyone. We are who we are. But you… you are everyone. That's why you can play the magician. You might even be better than our original magician," Sirius said, stepping closer, smiling playfully.
"I-I don't understand what you're saying—" Noah stammered, backing up until his back hit the wall. Sirius pinned one hand against it, trapping him.
"You're still hallucinating, huh? Don't forget who you are. You are □□□□□□, from □□□□□□□. Don't forget," Sirius whispered with a calm yet euphoric intensity.
Noah fell silent. For a moment, it was like his mind disconnected.
Suddenly—his black pupil morphed into a glowing white rhombus, sharp-edged and radiant like a shard of pure light cutting through darkness. It pulsed faintly.
"Hm?" Sirius murmured, noticing the change—but they were interrupted.
"Noah! Sirius! Are you done yet?! Stop slacking! Noah, to the stage—now!" Livia barked from behind. She was holding a cane like she might hit them.
Sirius turned and then smiled.
"Looks like our talk is over. Good luck… not that you'll need it. You're born for this," he said, stepping away.
Without wasting a moment, Noah gripped his elegant cane and walked toward the stage. He paused at the curtain, adjusted his monocle and hat—becoming someone else entirely. Someone immersed in their role and fully aware of what they must do.
As soon as he stepped onto the stage, the spotlight hit.
"It's about flipping time!" someone in the crowd groaned.
"The wait has been most unreasonable!" another added with a sigh.
Noah's steps echoed across the floor as he stood at center stage. All eyes were on him.
"…'I' am me…" Noah thought silently, eyes on the wooden boards below.
"…but 'I' have no identity…" he whispered, as if speaking to something within him.
"…and 'we'… are everyone…" the two voices inside him whispered in unison. Then Noah smiled softly—a smile suited for an actor. For a magician.
"Let the show begin."