The observation room was once open to everyone.Now, its door was half closed.
Raditia stood in front of it, staring at the narrow gap left behind. From inside, breathing could be heard—soft, steady, unmistakably human.
"This isn't right," Hansol said, his voice trembling.
"We're just securing it," a voice came from behind them. "Not punishing."
Raditia turned around. "Securing it from what?"
"From possibilities," the person answered. "We can't take risks."
"What risks?" Raditia pressed.
There was no clear answer.
Kazuhiro stepped forward. "Who decided this?"
The person hesitated. "We did."
One word.Plural.Safe.
Hansol clenched his fists. "If every decision is made using the word 'we,' then no one can be held responsible."
The door closed a little more. The metallic sound was short, firm.
Raditia felt his chest tighten. "One today," he said quietly. "Tomorrow?"
No one answered.
That night, Raditia didn't sleep. He sat leaning against the wall, staring at the observation room door from afar. In his mind, Aoi's face surfaced—the way she spoke softly, the way she warned without forcing.
Those who are certain they are saving others… stop asking questions.
The sentence now felt like a verdict.