CHAPTER 0: THE GHOSTS' BALLAD
《 You are dancing with a memory, but the floor beneath you is built from the bones of the truth. 》
The room was a gray concrete box. A single sliver of light leaked from a jagged crack in the towering ceiling—a clumsy scar carved by time itself. Alisa stood there, solitary but never truly alone.
The silence grew so heavy that falling dust echoed like a thunderclap. Alisa tilted her head, her jade-green eyes shimmering with a haunting tenderness as she gazed into the void. She reached out, her slender fingers entwining with the air, and slowly pirouetted. In this pantomime dance, she led an invisible partner across the ruins of her memory.
She performed every step with agonizing precision, as if fearing she might tread on a silk train or disturb Aleksei’s concentration. She smiled—a mute, hollow smile for an entity that existed only through the lingering aftertaste of vodka and the ghostly scent of tobacco smoke.
Suddenly, the rhythm shattered.
A rush of cold air flooded the room, carrying the pungent stench of cigarettes—the odor of a brutal reality. Alisa froze. In the shadows, where a camera lens pulsed with a demonic red dot, a figure stood motionless. He watched her not as a human looks at another, but as a curator examines a defective artifact.
"Do not look at me with those eyes."
The command rang out, dry and authoritative. It wasn't spoken; Volkov seared the mandate directly into her cerebral cortex. Alisa stumbled, lost her balance, and collapsed onto the freezing concrete. As she struck the floor, her green eyes locked in terror. Her palm skated across a sticky, cooling smear—thick, metallic, and undeniable.
The blood of a previous loop had dried upon the tiles, a grim testament to a history she wasn't supposed to remember.
Horror flared for a fraction of a millisecond before the self-defense mechanism of her shattered soul took over. Alisa blinked. A hallucination swept over her like a warm shroud, masking the gruesome truth. She gently stroked the bloodstain, her gaze turning dreamy once more. To her, these were no longer traces of slaughter; they were the petals of vibrant roses, scattered by someone in the winter wind.
The romantic pantomime had ended. The play of madness had officially begun.
[HYDRA DATA EXTRACTION — TOP SECRET]
Supervisor: Dr. Volkov.
Execution Advisor: Igor (Codename: THE CLEAVER).
Identification: A colossus of a man; a long scar carves down the left side of his face from wars erased by history.
Status: The Keyholder. Purges system errors through primal violence.
Note: "A loyal hound never asks questions. He is the blade I use to prune those who refuse to obey."
SUBJECT MONITORING LIST:
• Subject 01: ALISA (The Broken Rose)
o Condition: Level 4 Delusion. Self-constructed "Aleksei Loop."
o Volkov’s Assessment: The most beautiful exhibit, yet the most stubborn in relinquishing her soul. A flawed masterpiece.
• Subject 02: LEV (The Frequency)
o Ability: Extrasensory hearing. Can detect the vibration of dust motes through concrete.
• Subject 03: BORIS (The Mad Laughter)
o Role: Laughter as a sonic weapon to disrupt brainwaves.
• Subject 04: DIMITRI (The Strategist)
o Ability: Can perceive the pixelated decay of their artificial reality.
• Subject 05: IVAN (The Silent Observer)
o Warning: Silence harbors the seeds of riot.
EXPERIMENT LOG #000
• Status: Phase 1 - The Echo of Yesterday
• Doctor's Note: "Physical torture is primitive. To truly break a god, you must first destroy their faith in those standing beside them. For Alisa, the ghost of her lover is her god. I will enjoy watching that ghost burn."
[LOG ENDS]
