We've had tons of mock missions on data retrieval in someone's mind—it's what we're educated to do, after all. We get thrown into a randomized environment, find the information we're supposed to find, whether in the form of numbers, a list, or an audio file, and then locate a transmitter to send it out. Sometimes we are allowed to bring our own transmitters, though most of the time we prefer not to because transmitters are bulky and make the process of immersion into the target's mindscape much slower.

In short, what we're about to do is no different from any of our final exams. Except this is a real mind we're talking about. A mind of someone who has been comatose for years. A mind that has acted as storage space for four evil masterminds for who knows how long. Mr. Yamada and co. had probably inserted whatever virus they used on Shun on Ikoma-san as well, and if Shun has become this weird killing machine after less than one day, there's no telling how crazy Ikoma-san's mind would have become after, like, a decade.

This is a project a thousand times more dangerous than any of our mock missions. We're not prepared for that. In fact, we probably won't ever be prepared for that, considering late Mr. Kojima, who was supposed to be good at this (being a teacher and a professional and whatnot), wasn't even willing to set foot in Ikoma-san's mind himself.

We're grossly unprepared, but Hiroki is bleeding and Shun is tied to a desk and there are unconscious people out there in the schoolyard so we have no choice.

This is the only way to know. This is the only way to find out how to un-brainwash all the mindless walker teachers and students. This is the only way of access to the knowledge the group of mastermind teachers had, since they're all dead and we can't ask them ourselves.

This is the only way Shun will even become a normal person again.

I know all this, but I'm still heck nervous. It's quite possible that not all of us will come out alive, and I'm not liking that prospect. My classmates are my friends and good people and after all that we've been through together, I would really hate to see any of them go.

My eyes search for them, as I slowly adjust to the pitch blackness inside Ikoma-san's mind. It's dark. Too dark. I can barely make out silhouettes and I can't even be sure if they belong to my friends. So instead, I close my eyes and listen.

It works much better than trying to see in the dark. I hear the rustling of polyester fabric—probably Daisuke's pajamas; he always wears those noisy sweatshorts when he sleeps. I hear Yukiya too—he's the kind who breathes loudly so I can tell it's him. I move towards them, and bump into a small figure, which judging from the size and the soft "eep" it emits is probably Ririka. I take her tiny hand and we walk along gingerly to where the others are.

"It's so goddamn dark," I hear Anna complain in her scratchy voice.

"Izumi, some light please?" Natsumi suggests.

"I'd prefer not to make us a target of whatever creatures live in this mind," Izumi mutters, "but hey, you only live once."

She sends a lightning bolt crashing down from the skies, and for a moment we see.

We see everything. We see how big, how endless this world is.

We're in a sprawling metropolis, or what used to be one, as all the towering skyscrapers seem to be abandoned and shrouded in a deep mist. There are so many of them—thousands, millions perhaps. All of them ridiculously tall, perhaps more than a hundred floors. All of them huddled close together, enough to make a trypophobic faint in terror.

And then the light dies out and we're back in the darkness again.

"Well, if you guys want one more look, I can do the lightning thing again," Izumi suggests cordially.

"Thanks, it's enough," Yukiya mutters, and suddenly groans. "Ugh. How are we ever going to find anything in this mind?"

He speaks what everyone is thinking. There is no way. This mind is just too big—to go through one single building in search for something as insignificant as a pizza box would already take days. And there are millions of them.

It's impossible.

"There's got to be a way," Anna insists. I wonder if she's thinking about her little sister and what her MLD-infested mind would be like.

"How?" I whisper in despair. "Even if we split up, there's just no way we could cover so much ground in so little time. It will be too late."

I tell myself not to cry, not to be so utterly weak when everyone else is being strong or at least acting like they're strong. But it hurts. This is our last beacon of hope, but in my heart the beacon has already died out.

I start to sniffle, and I hate myself for sniffling. I feel someone pat my back softly and I'm not sure who it is until she speaks. Izumi.

"Riri, fly me above those damn buildings. Let's see if we can locate the power plant in this city—if there is one. We could do with some light."

"Okay," Ririka chirps, and I hear them take off. My tears won't stop, and I'm glad that at least no one can see them now. I'm not even sure what I'm crying about anymore—probably the fact that Izumi hasn't given up yet.

If Izumi hasn't given up, then I can't give up. If Izumi thinks there's a chance, then there's most definitely a chance. A flash of lightning appears once more—probably Izumi doing her job while sitting on one of Ririka's favorite flying shawls.

I wipe my eyes dry just as they land behind me with a triumphant thump.

"Found it," Izumi declares victoriously. "There's indeed a power plant. I can find a way to make it work with my lightning bolts—that way at least there will be electricity in the buildings and we'd have some direction. But we need to be, well, prepared."

"Why?" Daisuke asks.

"Because while we'll be able to see better with the lights on, the others will see us better as well."

"Others?" Daisuke persists. He asks a lot of questions, which is why he's a good conversationalist.

"Others," Ririka confirms. "From up there, we saw some... uh... robot-like things moving around. Very long legs. Almost as tall as the buildings. Like really long-legged spiders."

"Oh god..." I murmur, covering my face. Perhaps I should have stayed outside to spot after all. Dealing with really long-legged spiders is Hiroki's thing, not mine.

"We also saw some sticky, oozy slimes just kind of creeping about on top of the buildings and seeping into the windows," Izumi adds.

"Seen any mice?" Daisuke asks nervously.

"If we had we'd have let you know already," Izumi points out. "Moving slimes aren't much better than mice though."

I'd have to agree with that. While Daisuke doesn't like mice, I actually kind of do. I used to keep two at home—they weren't exactly the best pets but they could be cute-ish if you squint.

"Okay, so this is what's going to happen next," Natsumi decides. "Riri flies everyone to the power plant. Izumi makes the power plant work. If we are attacked, we fight our attackers off. And then we treat it like a normal mock mission, look for the info from car radios, billboards, TVs, stuff like that. Surely they'd all work with the electricity running."

It sounds promising somehow when Natsumi says it like that. I bet if it were I who said it everyone would just go "pfffft". I don't have the most convincing manner of talking.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan," Daisuke says excitedly. He thinks everything Natsumi says is the gospel truth. "So what are we waiting for?"

"We're waiting for slenderman to pass by," Anna explains amiably.

"What do you mean by slender—" Daisuke and I begin to say at the same time, and then we see it.

Tall, spindly legs and arms, an abnormaly skinny body, clad in a spiffy suit. I wouldn't exactly call him slenderman, because I don't think slenderman has such sad eyes. Sad, sad eyes.

He looks kind of familiar, but I've no idea where I'd seen him before. On TV, maybe? Recognizing faces is the thing I'm most terrible at, and that's saying a lot because I'm terrible at a lot of things, such as calculus, tying knots and peeling a banana with my toes.

But then he speaks, and even I know.

"It's been a while since someone's visited me," he says, a toothless grimace on his wrinkled face. "Such a long, long while." He stretches out a hand towards us, and I shiver as I notice that barnacles are living on his long, sinewy fingers.

"I've been hoping," he drawls depressingly, as tears of black blood pour out of his sad, sad eyes. "I've been hoping for so long. That someone would come. I've been waiting for ten years. Ten years..."

He crumples to the ground in a heap and begins to sob like a maniac.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, "I'm sorry we took so long, Ikoma-san."