A narcoleptic was close enough. If there were any med-nin left here he might have ventured to try to locate them, even, to see if that might be the correct diagnosis, but that was a pointless thought to even remotely contemplate. He pushed it out of mind and frowned at the reminder of Aidou's note -- and his own, a cryptically useless piece of paper that had fluttered out when he'd reached for his sword.

As far as he could tell, both notes (however different the wording) amounted to the same thing: something might happen but we won't tell you what or when.

"I received one as well --" he started, about to voice the thought that followed, only to be interrupted by the fizzle and panic of the Head Doctor. Impatience for the broadcast to end was rapidly replaced by surprise, then a thoughtful glance up at the shadowy ceiling where the intercoms were.

"... but if that is when, we still know nothing about what."