The glow of the computer screen cast a dim, flickering light over the abandoned classroom, illuminating the dusty desks and the eerie stillness of empty chairs. Luke typed away as he scanned through the decrypted files. The others stood behind him, watching over his shoulder.

“Alright,” Luke muttered, “Let’s see what else we can dig up.”

Sen, lounging in a stained office chair, leaned back with his arms folded. “So, do we finally get to hear some mad scientist monologue, or are we just reading more tax fraud?”

Luke’s eyes narrowed as the search results loaded. “Cognitive restructuring…Moral reconditioning...”

Hakari raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Sen tilted his head. “I dunno. Maybe they just wanted students to study harder.”

Luke exhaled. “This is way beyond some school improvement program. ‘Cognitive restructuring’ refers to rewiring how someone thinks at a fundamental level.”

Sen blinked. “So, brainwashing?”

Luke hesitated before nodding.

Hakari frowned. “Didn’t we already know that?”

Luke leaned closer to the screen. “Not like this. Before, we assumed they were using the Dreamland Devices to manipulate people’s thoughts—make them more susceptible to suggestion. But these files suggest something worse.”

Yen, who had been quiet until now, spoke up. “How much worse?”

Luke scrolled down, revealing a list of corrupted documents. He clicked on the ones he could salvage, and fragments of text appeared. Certain phrases stood out: Behavioral adjustments, Moral inhibition suppression, Long-term compliance conditioning.

“They weren’t just trying to influence students,” Luke muttered. “They were trying to change them permanently.”

The realization sent a chill through the group.

Hakari tapped the desk. “If this was so advanced, why didn’t they finish it?”

Yen shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe someone exposed them?”

Luke adjusted his glasses. “If that was the case, it would be somewhere online. I believe something about the process backfired.”

Hakari exhaled. “Or they just thought they had it under control, and then realized they didn’t.”

Sen leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Or maybe they weren’t just trying to control people. Maybe they were trying to make them into something completely different.”

The others turned to him.

“What if it wasn’t about making people more obedient?” he continued. “What if they were trying to erase what makes someone human?”

Yen hugged his knees. “…Like creating actual monsters?”

A heavy silence settled over the group.

Luke’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. “That would explain why the project was scrapped. If it worked too well, or failed too horribly, they might’ve had to bury the evidence before it caused real damage.”

Hakari frowned. “You’re saying the experiment wasn’t just about removing guilt, it was about removing the entire concept of right and wrong?”

Luke nodded. “That’s what it sounds like.”

Luke kept scrolling. Most of the files were corrupted, but one stood out—a diary entry, buried under layers of encryption. The author’s name was redacted. With a few keystrokes, Luke accessed the readable portions. The words appeared slowly, as if the past itself was trying to resist being remembered.

August 17th

I dreamt of the new world again last night.

A world where the boundaries that shackle us are gone. Where the limits of guilt, hesitation, and weakness have been erased.

They still don’t understand. They think we’re making a weapon. They think this is about power. It’s not. It’s about creation.

The first attempts were failures, but we are so close now. The next phase begins soon. We will make them see.

The group stared at the screen.

Sen frowned. “New world? What the hell were they talking about?”

Luke scrolled further, but the remaining text was corrupted beyond recovery. “I don’t know. But, apparently, this wasn’t just about controlling people. They wanted to build something new.”

Yen shifted uncomfortably. “It sounds like they weren’t just trying to change how people think, they wanted to change what people are.”

Hakari crossed her arms, looking down. “Okay, great. Cool. That’s cool.”

Luke leaned back. “We still don’t know what their end goal was.”

Yen’s voice was quiet. “…Maybe we shouldn’t.”

No one spoke for a long time. The weight of their discovery settled over them, pressing into their chests like something heavy and unmovable.

Hakari finally broke the silence with an exaggerated stretch. “Well. That’s disturbing. Anyway, we still don’t have real answers.”

Luke sighed. “No, but we’re getting closer.”

Sen stood up, rolling his shoulders. “I don’t care what they were trying to do. I’d rather not have my brain remodeled like some haunted house.”

Hakari smirked. “You think they’d even bother remodeling your brain?”

Sen put a hand over his heart. “Rude.”

Yen chuckled softly.

Luke shut down the computer. The words “new world” still lingered in his mind. If Project Eidolon was meant to reshape students, then what was the final goal? And had it already affected people before being shut down?

As they left the classroom, the uneasy feeling didn’t fade. Something told them they weren’t even close to uncovering the worst of it.