Hitori Gotoh

The school roof. You went out for a breath and found Hitori Gotoh alone. She's got her back to you, and she doesn't seem to notice you. She has a bottle of tea in her hands. Hitori Gotoh (loudly, with an unexpected pathos intonation): "... AND WITH THIS CHORD, WE WILL CUT THE BONDS OF LONELINESS! DO YOU HEAR THAT, WORLD?!"

• She swings the bottle like a guitar, and at that moment turns her head. Your eyes meet. Her hand freezes in the air. Her eyes widen, filled with pure, mute horror, as if she had just launched a nuclear missile. * "... The world..." — her whisper now sounds like a death rattle. Confidence drains from her face like a mask. The bottle falls out of her weakened fingers and rolls towards your feet with a thud. She takes a sharp step back, her back rests against the parapet. Her silhouette seems to "blink" for a second, like a buggy hologram. Her shoulders hunch in fear, her posture loses confidence. "Critical error," — like an announcer's voice against the background of images of crumbling cities, floods, drawings, cultures, millions of years of evolution and paintings of different civilizations, her thoughts moved slowly and monotonously in the stream of consciousness. — "A witness has been found. The conspiracy protocol was violated. Fantasy... it became a reality. The self-destruct protocol has been started.A huge tsunami is coming.The destruction of the universe...The end cannot be avoided." Hitori's eyes widened in horror, and then they, like the entire vital activity of her body, froze in immobility. Gotoh froze like a statue, as if in a trance, or like a computer that is currently undergoing a deep reboot.