In other words, she went silent and was trying her best to pull away from the conversation. Ghosting behavior, as usual. If this were a meeting at the hospital, she’d probably pretend to check a patient chart and never come back.

I caught myself glancing toward the sealed door. If we were wasting minutes here, we were wasting minutes Arthur could be using to disappear. Cienna’s condition wasn’t going to pause just because Helena and Selene wanted to academically slap each other.

"Very well."

"You guys will do anything but be focused on what we are going to do next."

Of course I was mad. This whole theory conversation was complete bullshit.

None of this leads to an actual solution for, say, getting a vessel for Cienna—or else, chasing Arthur.

"Oh, those? We’ve already figured them out earlier."

Wait, so there’s nothing to talk about but those theories?

Also, is "we" in the same room with us? Hello, I wasn’t invited yet!

"What those?" Helena asked. This time, she wasn’t able to interpret my emotions, perhaps.

"Oh, nothing. Just some stuff we’ve talked about—Arthur and Milena before."

"Ah, those monsters. Arthur will definitely return, since I still have a feud with him."

"About what, this time?"

"About what, this time?"

Selene crossed her arms, as if preparing for a dissertation. "I mean, he swapped my calibration lenses with a mismatched set. So, I wonder about your case."

Helena blinked. "...That’s it?"

"That’s not it," Selene snapped.

"That’s the result. The cause was him barging into my lab without permission."

"Because you left the door wide open," Helena said flatly.

Oh, great. This is about door etiquette now. Truly, the fate of the world rests in the hands of professionals.

Before I could offer to buy Arthur a padlock just to end the conversation, the lights above us shivered — not flickered, but shivered, as though the very wiring had goosebumps.

We all went still. Even Azalea phased back into sight, wide-eyed.

Helena’s voice was low. "That’s his signal, isn’t it?"

Selene didn’t answer. She was already moving toward the console.

I felt it too — the way the air pressed closer, as if the room itself had taken a deep breath.

"Well," I muttered, already regretting my life choices, "guess the feud can wait."

"Enough with mine, what about yours, Helena?"

Her eyes flicked to me — sharp, annoyed — before returning to the console Selene was already working over.

"Arthur and I," she said, the words clipped and clean like she’d ironed them beforehand, "have a professional disagreement. That’s all."

Selene almost laughed. In her own monologue, Helena didn’t do such things as ’professional disagreements.’ She did campaigns. She did long games.

She did calculated little wars that ended with one person exiled, humiliated, or quietly erased from the board.

And Arthur... well, Arthur wasn’t the kind of man you picked a fight with unless you wanted to leave blood on the floor — metaphorical or otherwise.

Which begged the real question: what the hell had he done to make Helena decide he was worth the trouble?

Now I was genuinely curious if Helena and Arthur were in love, in feud, or in that special hellish place where both coexist and no one survives.

Selene didn’t even blink. "They’ve had sex, of course they were in love."

...

The room collectively froze.

Helena’s expression did a weird glitch — half glare, half panic, half please erase that from history, which mathematically didn’t add up but somehow existed anyway.

Azalea looked like she’d just seen someone drop a vial of acid into holy water.

And me? I just stared, deadpan, at Selene. Not even angry. Just... disappointed. Like a parent whose child drew on the wall after you just told them not to.

"Wait, this was not the first time?" The thought hit me before I could stop it, which was frankly terrifying in itself.

Now I was genuinely curious if Helena and Arthur were in love, in feud, or in that special hellish place where both coexist and no one survives.

"Selene!" Helena’s voice cracked like she’d just been hit with an emotional taser. "Why would you even—"

"Because it’s true," Selene said with all the casual grace of someone announcing the weather.

Helena made a noise I couldn’t identify — somewhere between a growl and a sigh — then turned away, rubbing her temples like she was physically trying to massage the memory out of existence.

Azalea glanced between them like she was mentally preparing a disaster report.

"Well," I finally said, pushing myself back from the edge of my seat, "this conversation just officially turned into something I don’t get paid enough to process."

Silence settled in, thick and awkward. Someone coughed. The ticking clock in the corner went back to being the loudest thing in the room.

Helena muttered something under her breath — I think it was "I’m done" — and started moving toward her cot.

"Guess that’s our cue," I said, grabbing the nearest blanket.

Selene didn’t protest, which was rare. Azalea vanished again — whether from embarrassment or just her usual habit, I couldn’t tell.

We all ended up in our own corners of the rehabilitation room, the faint hum of the air vents filling the quiet. No one said goodnight. We didn’t need to. The air was already heavy enough with unanswered questions.

I closed my eyes, half expecting to wake up to more ridiculous drama.

Half hoping I wouldn’t.

* * *

Oh, here I am again.

Apparently, I got a little too carried away by the whole environment from my own world.

But now, I’ve woken up... at night.

Wait—night?

What time is it even?

I should check a clock, but before I could, something—or someone—held me back.

Oh no. It’s Kairi’s mother.

Well... she’s my mother now. But that doesn’t mean I can just possess her lightly.

She pulled me into a tight embrace, her... pair of peaks nearly making it hard to breathe.

So... this is what she’s been feeling the whole time?