"The bodies are destroyed," I admitted, resigning myself to her disbelief.

I gestured toward the room behind me. "That was its dining hall. It's pretty gruesome. I wouldn't recommend going in."

She tilted her head slightly, peering past me into the room. When her gaze returned, her expression practically screamed, *You're lying. You're the killer.*

I coughed awkwardly, running a hand through my hair in frustration.

"Look, please believe me. I'm not the killer. Like you, I just... ended up in this hellhole by accident. You aren't from this world either, right?"

I was running out of ways to explain myself.

To my surprise, she let out a sudden laugh.

"I know," she said, flashing a triumphant smile. "I was just messing with you. Your reaction was priceless."

I froze, stunned.

"I'm Tomie. Nice to meet you," she said, extending her hand.

"Oh... uh, likewise," I stammered, almost biting my tongue in the process.

Her demeanor had shifted completely, the wary edge replaced by an air of casual confidence. I couldn't help but wonder which side of her was the real one. Years of being the model student had taught me to wear a mask when necessary, and I knew I'd need it now. If we were going to stick together, we were essentially allies.

When we shook hands, a faint jasmine scent wafted from her. The nauseating stench from earlier faded from my mind, replaced by something almost soothing.

"I'm Kogawa," I said.

"You mentioned that already."

"Well, now you’ve heard it twice." I smiled. "Are you new here?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember how you got here?"

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"Not really," she admitted, rubbing her temples. "It felt like a nightmare. I woke up, and here I was. What is this place?"

"The Endscape."

Her confusion was expected, and I could only respond with a resigned smile.

"Did you see a man in a red coat?" I asked.

"No. Who’s that?"

"Some lunatic calling himself the Agent of the Apocalypse," I replied, not holding back my disdain.

"Agent of the Apocalypse?" Her brow furrowed.

"I’ll explain everything from the beginning," I offered. I recounted my arrival, the battle with the man-eating hound, and the appearance of the enigmatic figure in red.

Tomie listened intently, her face betraying little emotion. She didn’t interrupt, only nodding occasionally as if she needed an answer but wasn’t particularly invested in the details.

When I finished, she crossed her arms and nodded thoughtfully.

"So, pass the test, and you become a world-saving hero. Is that your plan?"

"I... don’t know," I admitted.

"You want to, don’t you?"

"What kind of nonsense is that? Why should I believe a word that guy said?"

"You don’t believe him?"

"Not one bit."

I lied.

"That’s too bad," she said, though her face betrayed no disappointment.

"I’m not short on people who believe in me," I shot back.

"Really?" Her gaze sharpened. "Let me guess. You’re a top student but not much of an athlete, right?"

What’s it to you?

She raised her left hand in front of me. Before I could react, she clenched her fist, and her muscles tensed in a fluid, powerful motion. The sheer force emanating from her presence felt like a physical impact.

"See? Stronger than you, right?"

I couldn’t deny it.

Her strength wasn’t just brute force. It carried an elegance, a harmony of muscle and curve. It was the kind of power that didn’t disrupt her natural grace but enhanced it.

"A true hero stands apart, marked by exceptional qualities," she said, smiling. "But even if you have the character, intelligence, and strength, without luck, you’ll never rise to the top. Compared to me, you’re the lucky one."

"So you’re saying that because I bear the mark, I’m supposed to play the hero?"

"Stop dodging the question," she retorted. "Whether you succeed or not is one thing, but deciding not to try from the start? That’s another. Isn’t that how you think too?"

"Maybe the so-called Agent is lying. Who knows what his true intentions are?"

"Does it matter? The fact is, you have power now. That’s undeniable. You’re a top student, someone who always scores higher than others because you must, not because it’s an exam, but because it’s who you are. Would you abandon that just because you learned the test might be a lie?"

For a moment, her intense gaze seemed to pull me in, leaving me unable to look away.

"So, you’re lying," she continued. "You may not see yourself as a hero, but given the power of one, you’ll act the part regardless. Whether heroism itself is real or an illusion doesn’t matter. That’s just the kind of person you are."

She had me completely figured out.

Many people had died before me, their bodies discarded like trash in that horrific room. Yet I survived. Whether it was luck or strength, I had been marked, chosen. And deep down, I knew she was right. My protests about not wanting to be a hero were just a facade.