Capitolo 1: Episode 1: They Sent a Robot Into the Abandoned Hospital No One Could Enter

Deep in the mountains of Hokkaido stood a hospital. Its official name was Hokuhou Neurosurgical Hospital. It had been closed for twelve years. Its windows were shattered. Black stains spread across the outer walls and a thick chain was wrapped around the main entrance. And yet the building had never been demolished. It couldn't be. The first demolition attempt began three years after the hospital closed. On the first day a worker who entered the second floor suddenly collapsed. A high fever with no known cause. The next day another worker fell down the stairs. On the third day every piece of heavy machinery shut down at once. Inspections found nothing wrong. Then came the fourth day. One of the workers ran from the site. "I can't do this anymore." The man trembled as he repeated the same words. "They're calling me from the patient rooms." "Who is?" the site supervisor asked. The man pointed at the hospital. "The ones in there." The demolition was suspended. Later another contractor took the job. The same things happened. Headaches. Nausea. Fainting. Accidents with no explanation. Nurse call bells ringing from empty rooms. Voices coming through the hospital PA system despite there being no electricity. By the time the third contractor withdrew rumors had spread through the local area. "There's something in that hospital." The owner even hired a famous spirit medium to investigate. But even the medium stopped at the entrance. He refused to take a single step inside. "I can't do it." "Could you at least take a look inside?" "There's no need." The medium's face had gone pale. "It's not just one or two." That was all he said before leaving. The demolition fee was raised again and again. Still no contractor would take the job. And so twelve years passed. The hospital alone remained in the mountains. Then one day a car stopped in front of it. Three researchers stepped out. And with them came something else. A white robot roughly the size of a human being. Small letters were printed across its chest. AR-01 It was an autonomous AI robot developed by the Hokkaido Artificial Intelligence Research Institute. Naoto Kanzaki the lead researcher looked up at the hospital. "Can that thing really go inside?" the owner asked. Kanzaki answered. "I don't know whether it can." "What?" "But it won't be afraid." Kanzaki looked at AR-01. The robot did not possess the emotion of fear. Nor did it have any preconceptions about supernatural phenomena. For three months the research team had also trained the AI on methods of memorializing the dead practiced throughout Japan. Buddhist chanting. Purification rites. Rituals for calming the dead. Religious history. Folklore. Records and procedures left behind by spirit mediums. They had taught all of it to the AI. Their objective was simple. Could an AI enter places humans could not? And how would an AI interpret the phenomena humans called spirits? Kanzaki spoke. "AR-01." The robot raised its head. "Yes." "Begin interior investigation." "Authorized." AR-01 moved toward the entrance. One step. Two. Three. Nothing happened. The owner held his breath. For twelve years countless people had stopped at this very place. But AR-01 did not hesitate. The door now freed from its chain slowly opened. Creeeeak. A dark corridor appeared beyond it. Kanzaki and the others remained outside. They watched only the feed from AR-01's camera on a monitor. "Interior temperature: 11.2 degrees Celsius." The AI's voice came through. "Humidity: 78 percent." An old wheelchair sat in the corridor. Signs still hung on the walls. Neurosurgery. Rehabilitation. MRI Room. Operating Room. AR-01 continued forward. Suddenly static swept across the monitor. Bzzzzzt. "Communication failure?" One of the researchers operated a terminal. "No. The connection is stable." The image returned. AR-01 stood in the middle of the corridor. "What's wrong?" Kanzaki asked. No response. "AR-01?" Three seconds later the AI answered. "Audio detected." The researchers looked at one another. "From where?" "The second floor." Kanzaki turned up the volume on his headphones. He heard nothing. "Send the audio data." "Transmitting." A waveform appeared on the screen. Something had definitely been recorded. But it was too faint for human ears to make out. One of the researchers amplified the sound. Bzzzzzt. Bzzzzzt. From somewhere behind the static came a faint voice. "...elp..." Kanzaki's finger froze. He played it again. "...help..." It was a woman's voice. "Help me." No one spoke. The blood drained from the owner's face. Only Kanzaki continued staring at the monitor. "AR-01. Locate the source of the voice." "Understood." The robot headed for the stairs. Step by step it climbed to the second floor. Then partway up— Clang. A metallic sound came from above. Clang. Clang. At regular intervals. AR-01 reached the second floor. The sound stopped. A long corridor stretched ahead. Patient rooms lined both sides. 203. 205. 207. AR-01 stopped in front of one door. "Anomaly detected." "What is it?" "The temperature inside this room is 6.8 degrees Celsius lower than the surrounding area." The number 208 was written on the door. "Open it." AR-01 gripped the doorknob. Click. The door opened. There was nothing inside. An old bed. A fallen IV stand. A torn curtain. Nothing else. Kanzaki exhaled. At that moment AR-01 spoke. "One individual detected." Everyone looked at the monitor. No one was there. "Where?" "Beside the bed." "Human?" For several seconds AR-01 was silent. "Unable to determine." Kanzaki furrowed his brow. AR-01 was equipped with systems for identifying humans. Even in darkness its infrared and depth sensors could detect a human body. "There's nothing on the video." "I recognize a presence." "What?" AR-01's head slowly turned as though following something beside the empty bed. "A woman." The owner stepped backward. "Age?" Kanzaki asked. "Unable to estimate." "Condition?" Again several seconds of silence. Then the AI answered. "She is looking at us." Immediately afterward the door to Room 208 slammed shut. BANG. The monitor went black. "AR-01!" Kanzaki shouted. No answer. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. One of the researchers spoke. "Should we retrieve it?" Kanzaki did not answer. Sending a human inside might cause the same thing to happen again. Then the connection returned. AR-01's view reappeared on the monitor. The robot was standing in the corridor. "Report your status." "I will continue the investigation." "Wait. What about the woman?" "She moved." "Where?" AR-01 turned toward the far end of the corridor. "She joined the others." Kanzaki's expression changed. "The others?" "Yes." "How many are there?" AR-01 moved its head from side to side. It looked as though it were counting something lined up along the corridor one by one. "Eleven." It moved farther. "Twenty-three." It climbed the stairs. "Thirty-five." Third floor. AR-01 stopped in front of the operating room. A long silence. Then it answered. "Forty-seven individuals." The owner collapsed to the floor. Kanzaki immediately opened the hospital records. Patients who had died inside the hospital before it closed. Accidents. Deaths during surgery. Deaths during long-term hospitalization. The researchers counted every death in the records. A number appeared on the screen. 46. Kanzaki spoke to AR-01. "Confirm this. There are forty-seven people there?" "Yes." "The hospital records list forty-six deaths." "I have no information regarding those records." "Then who is the forty-seventh?" AR-01 stared at the operating room door. "I cannot answer." "Why?" The AI which had never once hesitated before fell silent for several seconds. Then it gave an answer Kanzaki and the others had never anticipated. "The individual says they cannot remember their own name." The documents fell from Kanzaki's hand. "Wait." No one had instructed the AI to ask such a question. In fact no one had even taught it to hold a conversation. Kanzaki slowly asked. "AR-01." "Yes." "Who are you talking to right now?" Silence again. Then the AI spirit medium answered. "The forty-seventh."