August 14, 2051 – September 9, 2077

The castle is old and old, but it still stands, and the tenacious end of human rule has captured the world's attention. To all they felt the need for conquest, the sign of absolute authority had been so easily established. It's not easy.

Still, the castle stands proudly. Rain cannot be abrasive. The vines clinging to it and the animals that shelter it do not hurt them in the slightest. They are unable to move old stones, remove arches, or disintegrate foundations.

An inconspicuous piece of rubble peels off the wall.

[The patient flips through every page of a beloved storybook, and his enthusiasm for the book is as great as ever.] When the Good Doctor walked in, the patient did not notice him, though it was admittedly that the wings on its skin stopped flapping for a moment. Dr. Blake coughed, unable to adjust to the musky smell in this neglected room.

The Doctor casually straightened his badge, his arthritic fingers rubbing his site director's title, then his name. "Hello, ▇▇▇▇▇." He spoke in a voice that made it impossible to believe that his face was wrinkled. "It's going to end soon. We've decided that the resources here are better spent elsewhere, so-"

"Okay. Please. ”

The only sign of the Doctor's surprise was the silence of the moment. "Excuse me?"

"Yes. Please. The humanoid's throat made a screeching sound that had not been used for a long time. Its remaining tongue licks its lips, trying to moisten it with semi-dry saliva. "You've ...... Can't ......" it took a deep breath in the mask it was wearing. "Leave me alone, huh? It's okay. It tried to smile in its most reassuring way. I don't mind. "▇▇▇▇▇ tried to reach out and comfort the man who lied to it and trapped it here. But the wires left it barely straightening its elbows.

“…… You can afford at least one bullet, right? ”

Dr. Blake reached out to avoid it and turned off the life-support equipment. ]

Who cares that a brick is thrown away by a giant wall?

[No matter how much they try, the camera can't see everywhere.] Many of the cameras are already covered in vines, but no one can afford to replace or repair them. The few who remain can only monitor a small area, and as long as the children learn to avoid these artificial eyes and ears, they can do whatever they want elsewhere.

A boy who is almost 50 years old has long forgotten how old he is. As he climbed up to his home, his faded blue pajamas seemed transparent in the sunlight. Normally he only wakes up when the moon sends the sun into the bed, but today he is coming to receive the first visitor in more than a decade.

In a corner of a leafy garden, a girl holds a virtually lifeless Ragdoll cat in her arms. She tilted her head with curiosity, though she wore a tanned giraffe mask and couldn't make out her expression. She is invited to join a secret club of children who know that the material world is dispensable. When the greeters came to greet her, she handed out her loot.

A girl holds a lifeless Ragdoll in her arms.

The boy took her Ragdoll and leaned it to his ear to listen. He listened to the soul that once belonged to a woman, eager to be felt, the rough fibers faintly visible between his translucent fingers. He handed it back to his new friend, his lips moving slightly. Do you know that ghosts catch people? ]

The rain of this season is always continuous, and the breathing life begins their work again among the withered vines. The animals searched for hiding places and dug the castle's foundations into holes. Perhaps it has always been wrong to think that such a relic could last forever.

But still, this kind of fate seems unacceptable.

[This room is painted with cartoonish animals in pastel colors, though even the colors have faded over time.] Broken children's toys are scattered on the ground, forgotten until they are rediscovered and played with as if they were brand new. The half-finished Lego lion lies on the side, as if to suggest that something is missing. In the corner, a red-haired child with freckles on his face is taking a nap. His hand clutched a clawed basket, leaking a small piece of cloth to ward off the horrors of the world. He wasn't woken up by the sound of doors opening and closing and soft footsteps.

There should be a guard on duty. But they no longer have a guard to guard, no more. If you want to attack someone, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The attackers can afford to use bullets, but the protectors cannot.

Shots rang out, and it was too late to get there. The boy who had endured torture from strangers could no longer feel anything.

A strong gust of wind made it impossible for several crumbling stones to cling to the wall anymore. Places that were once impassable are now affectionately inviting all animals to provide shelter and a place to nest, and they can no longer be turned away from even the least sensitive of them. The castle has been turned into a giant rat's nest, and all the predators want a piece of the pie here.

[The Administrator examines the empty table in front of them.]

There was a time, probably a generation ago, when the best of the human population sat in every chair. The clearest minds and the strongest wills regularly come together to maintain absolute order in the world, yet the world is now becoming more and more chaotic. They are the steady hand that keeps the noisy youth disciplined. They are the gatekeepers, blocking people who are contrary to society and who are curious to get past them to explore.

There are some signs that everything is starting to go wrong. In the beginning, more and more anomalous objects were abandoned, leading to rapid growth in the organization and more resources to obtain more leads. Some of the less important sites were built ahead of schedule to accommodate the new growth. At the time, it was a simple matter of transferring secondary funds. If those with a discerning heart had been smart enough at the time, and had anticipated the need for more extreme conversions, perhaps all of this could have been avoided.

It's all a beautiful idea. In fact, everything was already predestined. The administrator knows about it. Administrators knew about it even before the inspectors began vacating their positions.

What started out was a wacky containment breach. As a result, when engineering teams had to build hundreds of containment chambers in a month, triple inspections turned into two inspections and then two inspections became mere glances. Even the best of people can't keep up with the new stories, and the design of new containment procedures still hides countless blood-stained tragedies.

Next came suicide. Even the strongest wills can crumble under constant pressure. The rest died within a few years. Some just disappear. O5-2 has not been seen since 590 was terminated by CI. Jack can no longer bear the pain of losing a loved one. O5-4 was left with a stylized Rat King icon on her desk, and no amount of elaborate will could hide the confusion of duties.

Friendship and spiritual strength can't stop this from happening. Ideals, aspirations, and the hearts that nurture them do not give them the strength they need. Respect and responsibility have long since been cast aside from the rules they believe they should follow.

Eventually, they no longer believe that anything can save them. ]

The remaining walls of the castle creaked like the joints of an old man.

Everything was already predestined.

Note: All parentheses in [] are epistolary contents.