Arata Katsune, The Ultimate Survivor. A boy who has lived a beyond abnormal life. And it's about to get much worse.
When Arata took his first steps into Soaring Heights High School, he began to feel dizzy then passed out. He awoke in a classroom wit...
Arata sighed as he approached the third floor. He had a hunch that a new pathway would be open, like the last two times.
He was right. A new gate had opened, allowing access to what he assumed to be the fourth floor.
As he was about to move forwards and ascend the stairs, he hesitated.
'Is it really safe to go up there alone?'
He couldn't know for sure. But he did know that he had to be careful.
Looking behind him, he spotted the metal door that led into the armory. An idea popped into his head.
-
Trust.
A firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something.
Trust was something that Arata never really cared about. He never placed his trust in anyone since that day. Not even in Yuu. He was aware that she had trusted him, but he didn't rely on her or anything.
He never believed in trust. Which is why he was now taking a pocket knife off of the armory weapon wall.
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Has he ever used a knife before? Yes. But only in self defense. And that was the only way he ever wanted to use it.
Arata shoved the small weapon into his pants pocket.
-
The fourth floor.
The first thing that was noticeable about it. Was that it was completely dark. With all the widows blocked, the entire floor was plunged in blackness.
Arata narrowed his eyes. He pulled out his Monopad and turned on the flashlight.
At first glance, he didn't see anything. Ignoring that fear that crept up his spine, he walked forwards, allowing himself to be engulfed in darkness.
Something about this floor made him incredibly uneasy. Just like when he first woke up in the school and was wandering around alone.
*clink*
Arata spun around, looking back towards the staircase. There was no one there.
He hesitantly turned back on his original path and continued forwards. It didn't take him long to reach a door to his left. It was an old looking wooden door and it had a rusty metal knob.
*clink*
Arata froze as he heard the same sound again. This time, he didn't turn around. Instead, he stayed in place, slowly reaching into the pocket that held the knife. He had a tight grip on the weapon.
*tink* *tink*
Arata continued to listen. The sounds were growing closer to him. Whatever it was, it sounded heavy.
