Kiyoyuki Irino stood at the back of a large van, clad in a stylish black suit. His eyes looked around timidly, seemingly on the look out for something. There were a few moments of silence that passed on the feed until a spurt of white noise was heard, and then a voice.

“Irino-kun, what’s your position?”

The boy brought a walkie talkie from a holster on his hip and brought it to his mouth.

“I have them in the van outside of the drop off…I think. All of the signs are in English here, it’s hard to tell.”

“Okay! We’re on our way!”

The video cuts off.

Miya Iwazumi tapped her foot impatiently, the black kitten heel making a loud ‘clack’ every time it collided with the tile flooring of the Main Hall. She really seemed to look like a stressed out business woman, what with the black suit jacket and pencil skirt she was wearing. After a minute or so of watching Miya stand by her lonesome, an unfamiliar male entered the scene. Her expression lightened, but a twinge of annoyed stayed in her tone.

“You’re running late. Everyone’s already in the classroom, you know~”

The boy stayed quiet and simply headed off toward the elevator, rubbing his gloves together nervously.

As she watched him enter the glass box, she took out a cell phone and began speaking after a short while.

“Mmmm~ He’s headed over. You could probably start now. I’m going to lunch. Call me if you need something.”

The video cuts off.

The camera pans over to the Gingerbread Man leaning over a railing, lazily looking out at a barren ghost town from what appears to be a watch tower. His laid back demeanor certainly didn’t match his attire: a black business suit, kept prim and proper. He sighed, appearing bored with the task at hand. It was then that a chirping tone went off, causing him to reach into his pocket. After retrieving a cell phone from his person, he held it to his ear.

“Yeah? There’s nothin’ out there. I’m tellin’ ya, this shift’s worthless. I’d rather be doin’ somethin’ else. I’m thinkin’ they wouldn’t follow us all the way here from Japan.”

After listening to the voice on the other line for a while, his eyes looked up at the sky in frustration.

“You tell the higher ups that we’ve gotten this far on our own, yeah? We know what we’re doin’.”

The video cuts off.

Harper Michaels appears on the tape, legs stretched out onto the instructor’s desk that sat in the second floor’s classroom. One could assume from his position and black suit that he was most likely in charge of teaching something in that room…but there were no students. The only other person to enter the room came in a few moments after the video began. Unlike Harper, she was dressed in a black nun’s outfit, braids peaking out from under her habit.

“Are you here early?”

The street artist removed his legs from the table top and sat up straight in response to her inquiry, as if he hadn’t noticed she was there at first.

“Oh! Yeah, just thought I’d have a minute to myself before I start on them. I’ve been given orders to try using scare tactics today, maybe show some photos we’ve taken from outside. I don’t think it’s going to work though.”

The nun gave a light giggle, placing a hand over her mouth.

“I think it’s a great idea. It will strengthen them incredibly.”

The video cuts off.

The tape starts as Kyo Otonomiya is walking down a hallway, fists balled at his sides as his pace quickens. One would think he was late to a meeting of sorts, being that he was clothed in a black business suit. Though, the cement walls around him didn’t exactly scream professional. He made his way into a round room, containing what looked like a dozen or so prison cells. The only person besides himself inhabiting the room was an unfamiliar female, who almost glided right into him. Skidding to a stop on her wheeled sneakers, she came face to face with the virtuoso.

Kyo eyed her with little emotion.

“Perhaps you’d be better off with your feet on concrete, as opposed to nearly incapacitating me with your recklessness. In any case, I’ve been assigned to escort you to the subsea facility.“

The girl’s arms crossed in front of her, seemingly skeptical of the request.

“Perhaps you’d be better off shoving it, creep. And maybe I don’t want to.”

Turning back toward the hallway, Kyo sighed.

“I would appreciate your cooperation.”

The video cuts off.

Akihito Ozu appeared on the tape, and the sight was rather bizarre. He seemed to be messing with the overhead door’s side panel on the first floor, yet he was wearing a black suit and tie. It wasn’t exactly something an electrician would wear, but there were more pressing things occurring in this footage.

The sound of white noise then covered the clanking of metal, triggering Akihito to pull a walkie talkie from his side. He continued to work with one hand as he held the device with the other, listening to the words now pouring through the speaker.

“Ozu, how’s that door coming along?”

A confident smirk appeared on his lips as he responded to the unknown voice.

“Listen man, this baby’s not gonna open unless we tell it to. They aren’t gonna just run off on us and cause havoc like you think they are. Shit, I think I deserve a bonus or something for this bang-up job!”

An annoyed sigh rang from the walkie talkie.

“Whatever, kid. Just make sure it doesn’t budge on anyone we don’t want it budging on. Focus.”

The video cuts off.

Jiang-li appeared on the tape sitting in the break room, dressed in a black business suit. She would look like a business woman from any typical office if it wasn’t for her extremely colorful hair. She merely sat there in deep thought until a funky tune rang out, causing her to jump. After taking a deep breath, she pulled a cell phone from her coat pocket and answered.

“J-Jiang-Li.”

After a moment of listening to the other end, her expression soured. It was a mixture of concern and annoyance.

“I’m not going ta lie, I think yer full of it. Th’ rest of us are together on this, we’re not gonna go with yer idea. It’s downright wrong and headquarters is going ta flip on ‘ya if they hear it. I’m doin’ ya a favor by keepin’ quiet.”

She listened to the other side for a while before abruptly hanging up. She then began to sip from her styrofoam cup, hand shaking.

The video cuts off.

The video displays Nana Yasuda, donning a black business jacket and pencil skirt. The look was certainly not Nana in the slightest, though she fixed that by unbuttoning the top buttons of her blouse. Ripping the viewer’s attention away from her scandalous attire was the sound of the drummer jingling a ring of keys.

“Night night night! Time for ba-ba-bed! File in, file in!”

She stepped to the side, revealing a wall of prison cells. Her fingers continued to play with the keys as a group of unfamiliar students began to file into each cell, finishing up cheerful conversations with one another. As they made their way into their respective cells, Nana looked at the watch on her wrist.

“Ten o’ Clock! Time for bed! We’ll see you all again at seven A.M.! You know the drill!”

She began to walk toward each cell, locking them as she hummed a lively tune.

“Let’s strive for a more hopeful tomorrow! Goodnight!”

The video cuts off.