Return tothe everyday.

The sweat you shed on the field never betrays you.Every hour of practice becomes a swing that can shatter even the aberrations.Bottom of the ninth, two outs, down 3-0. Despair is just that kind of deficit.Put your soul into a full swing and blast the horrors into the stands.

Those who fear the strange, and those who mock it, will be devoured by the aberrations.Only those who know the strange can lay bare its logic.Inside the lightless auditorium, they are no mere hobbyists.They become sages with knowledge deeper than anyone's.

Rules do not exist to bind people.They exist to steady hearts swallowed by fear and to keep your friends alive.They may let a dress-code violation slide, but never an aberration.Restoring broken order... that is the Discipline Committee's duty.

To make it back alive. No victory matters more than that.Sensing danger and having the courage to retreat when you should is the shortest route home.Even if others point fingers at you, that is none of your concern.Slip back through the otherworld's gate, get home, and your rightness is proven.

The world always has its laws.Not even a god or an aberration is an exception.Observe, form a hypothesis, prove it. That becomes the power to fell a god.Science, after all, is humanity's guidepost for challenging the divine.

Who cares about the rules of the world.Answer the unreasonable with your fists. That is their way.God or monster, they mow it all down and walk their own path.Pick a fight, and they will see it through to the very end.

A loosed arrow never wavers.Shooting is standing meditation... a heart tempered without end, unshakable as bedrock.In the silence they steady their breath and stake everything on a single shot.The one arrow that pierces an aberration's weak point becomes a hope that runs even despair through.

The sword is a mirror that reflects the self.No matter how many times they are struck down, they rise again and again.A full fighting spirit, a honed blade technique, footwork drilled into the bones...When all of it aligns, the single stroke they unleash carves open the future.

Those who nurture life know how precious life is.Even in the ruined auditorium, small sprouts surely exist.The hands that make flowers bloom heal wounds and sow seeds named hope.Believing that one day, spring will come even to this hell.

To heal a wound is to keep a life going.The hand held out to a fallen friend gives more power than any blade.Those who never give up hope to the very end in the auditorium of despair may be the ones who truly know what "strength" is.

When everyone else flees, there is one who steps forward.The duty to lead the charge, the responsibility to guide their friends, they shoulder it all and stand at the front.That back rallies their friends and binds them together.The future of a school ruled by the aberrant gods rests on their shoulders.

Knowledge is sometimes sharper than a sword and faster than a gun.The price of decoding forbidden tomes and laying bare the gods' logic will surely cost more than sanity alone.The pain that runs through the mind is fiercer than any wound carved into the body.And yet, only those who keep turning the pages reach the truth of the abyss.

Sound becomes a power that stirs the heart.A melody played amid despair rings out as a march that gives courage to your friends.That beat, never falling silent to the end, refuses all domination and, throwing off the gods' oppression, sounds the signal for humanity's counterattack.

You cannot survive on an empty stomach.With a single clever touch, they turn even scarce ingredients into hope, sustaining their friends in heart and body.More than any feast, a warm dish shared together becomes a reason to live, the flesh and blood that shapes their being, and a sure vitality that carries them toward tomorrow.

The world changes its shape depending on who beholds it.Madness, terror, even the gods' aberrant forms; their eyes take it all in as it is and sublimate it into art.To them, even a hell-like auditorium is nothing more than a seed that grants inspiration.The final canvas they paint: will it be despair, or hope?

It is only one of many.Analyze, record, and drag the unseen laws into the light.Even the true identity of whatever built this labyrinth: one day they will haul it out from behind the screen.Then they will rewrite the false code and set the world right.

They chase truths no one knows and write up incidents no one will talk about.Even if their subject is an inhuman aberration, that is no reason to give up the story.They will record everything happening in this auditorium.Believing the day will come when they make it back alive and drag it all into the light.

Human or aberration, the way to win does not change.No matter how huge the monster, a body trained strong and sound is enough; no weapons or magic required. Overturning an overwhelming gap in power is old hat to them."Softness overcomes hardness." They will teach the aberrations what humans are truly made of.