We were separated within an hour.
I was assigned to the eastern zone along with Aoi, Hayato, Kana, and three others. Mina was taken to the central zone. The rest were sent west.
Before we left, the curator repeated:
— "The 'Holder' is already among you. Their goal is to destroy unity. They may lie, manipulate, mislead. But you have a choice — to trust or to doubt. The decision is yours."
The door shut behind us. A buzz of the electronic lock. And then, silence.
The eastern zone was a long wing with countless rooms. Some locked. The lighting was dim, the ventilation loud.
— We should start by checking all the rooms, — Aoi suggested.
— In pairs, — I added. — And every switch is logged on the terminal.
Everyone nodded.
But within half an hour, I noticed something: Kana seemed to be avoiding everyone on purpose. Hayato asked too many questions about "penalty rules." And one third-year started arguing over trivial matters.
Too early for real conflict. Or… too perfectly timed?
> The Holder shouldn't be active. They benefit from passivity. Chaos through silence.
And yet — someone was nudging things forward. Softly. Subtly.
At night, I stayed on watch by the door. Everyone else had fallen asleep — except Aoi.
— Do you think it's Kana? — she asked, sitting beside me.
— Not sure. She's too quiet. Too... cautious.
— What about Hayato?
I shook my head.
— He's annoying, but he's visible. The real threat hides.
Aoi was silent for a moment, then added:
— What if there's no Holder in our zone?
I looked at her.
— Then it's you.
She smirked, but her eyes were tense.
> "The Labyrinth of Trust" isn't just about finding the enemy. It's about doubting everyone. Even yourself.
The next day, the terminal displayed a message:
> "Central zone: progress — unstable. Urgent interaction request denied."
Mina...
What's happening there?
I opened my terminal. Started coding — trying to bypass the block and connect directly. Risky. But waiting felt worse.
If chaos had already erupted in the center, the Holder might be there.
But I couldn't know for sure.
And for the first time in a long while, I felt it:
fear.
Not for the outcome of the test.
But for her.