(1/3/202X)

"Is he still asleep?"

"Mhm."

"Uhh, have you been watching him this whole time?"

"N-no! I-I just got up...not long before you."

"Oh, you slept? Was there enough room? Maybe we should get a bigger futon."

"T-that won't be necessary, I was perfectly comfortable."

A protracted yawn interjected, cutting through the conversation. The frizzy-haired boy sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He laid back down, his eyes adjusting to the world of the living once more and greeted by his friends looming over him.

"Good morning, my Trickster. Did you sleep well?"

"I don't feel like a zombie anymore, so yeah, guess so."

"You still look like one though."

A loud rumble from his stomach was confirmation that Morgana might've had a point. He had no idea how long he'd been out for, or how long he'd been left without sustenance while incapacitated. It couldn't have been that long, or he wouldn't be here. But the gnawing ache of his empty insides begged to differ, as did the thinness of his limbs. He'd been left withering for a while.

"Agh, I'm starving. Please tell me you have food here."

"I don't think either of us checked," Morgana replied.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. You two are...I'm still not exactly sure what you two are."

"Residents of the Velvet Room. Well, perhaps 'creations' is more fitting now," Lavenza offered.

"Someday I want you to explain exactly what that involves. But for now, let's focus on breakfast."

Ren pushed himself up off the floor, each movement stilted and labored, still sore from the night's traumatic chase. His joints and muscles were still stiff, but the dull throb that had entrapped his body had subsided. That was with the exception of his ankle, which nearly buckled under his weight, eliciting a muttered curse. He was able to gather himself and push forward, wandering through the small home until happening upon the kitchen. As he limped through, he found the typical amenities were absent. Even in their apparent haste to flee, the previous occupants had gathered up most of their appliances. That, or someone had looted the place before Lavenza and Morgana arrived. Nothing was scattered however, and there were no messes or signs of rummaging. Parsing through the cupboards, he found each emptier than the last, not a scrap of anything edible left. Everything had been thoroughly cleaned out.

A dusty cabinet in the back of the room, its wood weathered and chipped, was the last place for the famished teen to check. Pulling on the chestnut doors, the hinges straining as the doors stuck, he eventually forces it open. Inside there were several containers of instant ramen.

Hallelujah. Now as long as this doesn't kill me...

The best before date on the container was well over a year ago. A bit dicey, but it was packaged ramen. Besides, his ankle couldn't be easily healed, but food poisoning probably could, right? It wasn't as though he had much choice anyway, as his stomach's growls sternly reminded him.

He had no luck finding a saucepan. Finding one of the few remaining pots after some thorough searching, he ran into under the tap and filled it.

House still has electricity, water's still running. I guess not everything has fallen apart.

When he'd finished preparing his modest meal, he took a pair of chipped wooden chopsticks out from one of the drawers and stood against the kitchen's island and ate. Lavenza and Morgana entered, the cat jumping up onto the wooden surface and the girl standing beside him, watching him intently.

Ren slurped the noodles down vigorously, the rapidity of inhalation helping to offset the bland taste and soggy texture. In his rush to get something into his stomach he'd taken some liberties with the preparation. It was not his proudest creation, even with the limited tools he had to work with, and if Sojiro had been there he likely would've had some choice critiques. It wasn't the old man's specialty, but many of the fundamentals of making good rice and curry could be applied to other dishes. As Ren scarfed down the noodles, for the briefest second he could've sworn he tasted a hint of Leblanc's signature dish on his tongue. It made him pause, nostalgia washing over him. A cruel trick of the senses, another reminder of what he'd lost, or, as he desperately tried to push the thought out of his head, who.

"You guys want some?"

Morgana arched his head closer to the bowl and sniffed, a grimace on his face.

"Uhh, you should probably save it for yourself. You're the one who doesn't have a choice."

Ren took another bite and chewed for a second, making a face and then swallowing hard. "You sure? It's not awful, you just have to eat it fast."

Morgana turned his back to the bowl. "Yeah...I'm good."

Lavenza poked her head around Ren's shoulder. "I'm a bit curious. May I have a taste?"

He made to push the bowl her way, but then remembered that her familiarity with chopsticks was probably lacking. Instead, he picked the noodles up himself, and guided the chopsticks towards her face, pushing it in her face and beckoning when her head leaned back, unsure of what he was doing. Realizing what he was hinting at, she craned her neck slightly and, with graceful refinement, ingested the offering.

She chewed meticulously. "Hmm...he isn't wrong Morgana. They aren't awful." She took another bite. "Oh! How interesting. Are they supposed to have a crunchy texture in the middle?"

Ren coughed. "Well, I prefer my ramen al dente, so..."

"Not what that means." Morgana whispered with a smirk.

Ren scratched behind Morgana's ear and then playfully pushed his head down. "What do you know? You don't even like anything that's not fish."

"Not true! I could go for some crab, ooo, or some shrimp!"

Ren thought for a moment. "Would they have anything like that in town?"

"Possibly. But that reminds me. I was going to talk to you two about our next move. We do need supplies, but I think before we go into the village, we should go back to the clinic."

Ren eyes widened. "How come?"

"I think it's important we find out exactly what happened to you. Don't you think it's strange you ended up out here? From Tokyo? We might be able to find out more if we scout out that building."

"To be honest, with everything that happened last night, it wasn't really on my mind. But you're right. But what if there are more of those things there?"

Morgana beamed. "Don't worry, Lavenza will handle them!"

Lavenza turned to Ren and sighed. "While it is my responsibility to assist you, and I have chosen to take a more active role, I must remind you that this will be your journey as well. That goes for you too Morgana. It would not do for me to fight all your battles and deny you both the opportunity for growth. But neither will I allow serious harm to come to you."

Morgana was caught off guard for a moment, but his look of surprise quickly turned into a grin. "There's no need for modesty Lady Lavenza. This is your chance to be the main character you always should've been."

His flattery earned him a laugh. "In joining you I hoped I might discover more of your world, and in doing so, more about myself. There may be many such chances for each of us, to discover more of ourselves and others."

Morgana nodded. "Right. And we can start by discovering what happened to you," he said, pointing his paw at their leader.

Ren tugged at the collar of his shirt, giving it a sniff and wincing. "I'll start my journey of self-discovery in the bath."

Upon entering and stepping through broken glass, smashed and splintered furniture, shattered equipment, scattered papers, and fallen plaster, the three companions were immediately struck by the bitterness in the air. Not only the staleness, but the lingering eeriness that snaked around them. Tragedy had befallen this place, not unusual for a facility of its nature, but not merely of the medical variety. No, the feeling of emptiness and sorrow was tangible, leaving an impression on all of them. Morgana felt a familiar unease, an image in the back of his mind of him lying on the cold ground of within the depths of Mementos, staring back at an imitation of himself, one with eyes yellow like those belonging to shadows. Ren's shoulders tensed, as memories of being drugged and tortured by his interrogators after his capture flashed behind his eyes. And for Lavenza, each moment she stood there felt like she was being slowly torn apart again. There was no pain, only a building, increasingly desperate urge to remind herself who she was. To repeat to herself that she was one, not two. One, not two.

"Does this place make either of you feel kinda...sick?"

"I-I do not like it here. The air is thick with grief. It feels as though I'm being bathed in all manner of unpleasantness."

Ren sighed. "Come on, the faster we comb through here the sooner we can leave. Maybe we should split up; we can cover more- OOF."

As he began to walk forward, he tripped over some debris near the reception desk. With little effort, Lavenza caught him and pulled him upright.

"Watch your step! It's a mess in here," Morgana chided.

Lavenza motioned at Ren. "Here, hold my hand for balance."

With the slightest bit of hesitation Ren did as he was told and allowed the girl to slip her fingers through his own.

"It's probably best to stick together," The feline suggested. Ren nodded reluctantly.

"So where do we start?"

"I was in the east wing, so might as well start there."

Rounding the corridor and advancing through the doors to the deserted rooms, the looming discomfort became more overbearing. Lavenza's grip on her Trickster's hand tightened ever so slightly, the girl overcome by an unusual feeling of anxiety. Though she would not confess it, the generally self-assured ruler over power felt a disconcerting sense of uncertainty take hold while wandering this place.

Morgana looked around. "It's pretty dark. Maybe this place has a backup generator. We should go look for it."

"It might be outside. I don't think this place has a basement."

Just as they began their trek back towards the doors leading out to the entrance, a rapid succession of clicks sounded, each one in tandem with a set of lights overhead turning on.

The three froze and their eyes locked, giving each other a perturbed look.

Morgana's mouth hung open. "Uhhh..."

"Either we've been blessed with great fortune, or there may be someone here with us. Be on guard," Lavenza advised. Both Ren and Morgana nodded.

The first room on the right side of the hall had been his, he was fairly sure. Stepping in, he pulled his attendant in behind him, faster and harder than he'd intended. She scowled at the back of his fluffy head when her arm got yanked, but her expression quickly softened, realizing that he was in a daze. She returned to his side and watched as his free hand picked up a pair of glasses, frames broken and lenses cracked, off the hospital table lying next to the bed.

"Guess I was traveling light." He inspected them, running his fingers over the fractures, and sighed. "Good thing they were just for fashion."

"It is nice to see your face unobstructed. A small consolation, perhaps."

He smirked. That was surprisingly smooth. Well, by Velvet Room standards. Better than most of Morgana's attempts to woo Ann, at least. Sweetness like that made it hard to believe Caroline could still be lurking inside there somewhere. Then again, both of Lavenza's constituent halves were softer and more sentimental than they'd first let on.

"I don't see a chart anywhere. You guys see anything?"

"What exactly should we be looking for?" Lavenza asked, eyes gliding across the room and the various objects which filled it. She wasn't completely ignorant of the developments of human medicine, or so she'd thought. She knew about needles, the ideal tool for bloodletting. Though she'd been led to believe leeches were also effective for such a task. Many of these tools simply looked like torture devices to her, however.

Morgana answered. "Anything that can give us clues to how Joker ended up here. Or maybe we should try to figure out why this place looks like a hurricane hit it."

"So let's divide and conquer. I'll go look for anything related to myself, and you two go look into whatever tore this place apart." It seemed no matter how much things had seemingly changed, or time had passed, he fell back into a role of leadership naturally. Although a part of him wondered if, with Lavenza joining them, he and Morgana had become superfluous. That wasn't fair to Morgana; at least he could still fight. It was he who was the dead weight. It would be pretty hard for anyone to compete with an immortal being who could summon an extensive repertoire of powerful entities though. Nobody could measure up. Well, except him, as she and Igor had intended before everything went belly up. Was his sly brain really of much value to someone who could nuke a forest with a wave of their hand?

Unneeded.

He shook off the thought. Just before he could set off, his hand got tugged back, holding him in place. He turned to look at his dear attendant and caught the concern leaking through her golden orbs. He flashed her a smile.

"I'll be fine, promise." But as he turned to set off again, her grip refused to loosen.

"Ordinarily, I would defer to you on these matters. But, with the state you're in, I don't feel entirely reassured."

"Because of my persona issue?"

She nodded. "Your dexterity is also compromised. You're quite weak and frail. And I confess, I'm also in uncharted territory here. The creatures we encountered last night were little more than a nuisance. But my ability to sense what lies within these walls is...well, it's difficult to describe, but it's being interfered with. It's possible something more dangerous is lurking."

Ren studied her for a second, and then smiled cheekily. "Alright, then what if I promise to stick close? Will you let me off my leash then?"

She considered his question, the phrasing causing her eyebrow to raise, but understanding nonetheless. "I suppose that would be acceptable. If you stay within earshot of Morgana and I."

"Deal." He rested his freed hand on her head, gently patting it. She smiled and leaned into his touch, greatly enjoying the contact. Pushing his luck, the suave former thief brought his hand around her cheek, stroking it tenderly, which caused her to freeze and the pale skin from the sides of her nose up to her ears to go hot and burn red. He chuckled. "I appreciate the concern, my little ball and chain."

Ren relented and scampered away, leaving the girl to contend with the butterflies that filled her stomach, a temporary reprieve from the dreariness that had consumed since they'd came in.

"Ball and chain...?" She whispered to herself, perplexed.

Morgana jumped up on her shoulder. "He means...you know what, I'll let you figure it out." He closed his eyes and sighed. Even Lady Lavenza? It's just never enough for you, is it?

"Is he referring to...his imprisonment?"

"He belongs in a jail, that's for sure."

"Perhaps he desires for me to be rougher on him. To push him to his limit? Strangely, I-I do have a sudden urge to strike him with a baton."

"And you belong in there with him..." The exasperated cat mumbled and shook his head. "Come on. Let's check out this room next to us."

It only took a few steps up the hall for Ren to find something of interest. In the office, a computer, its monitor littered with a rainbow of sticky notes, was lying dormant. Turning it on, he made note of a flash drive sticking out of one of the ports. The screen came to life, and after a minute of it cycling through its startup, he was greeted sign-in screen requesting a password. Parsing through the various bits of information within the post-its, he finally found something that resembled a password. Mentally crossing his fingers, he entered it, and grinned when he saw "Welcome, Dr. Iwamura" pop up.

He plopped himself into the office chair and began looking through the files on the desktop. They seemed to all be related to administrative matters, which wasn't what he was looking for. The file explorer had already been open, and a long list of different documents, both straightforwardly named and confusingly abbreviated were in front of him. Clicking, doing a quick skim through, then closing dozens of files, he found nothing that pertained to himself. He did find, however, a file labeled "Journal". Figuring this to be a possible lead, he opened it and began reading.

Date: 8/15

I've decided to keep my own personal entries separate from the database. The system keeps purging patient information and our visitation notes, which is making it a real pain to keep track of the influx of new patients showing up. We've become increasingly reliant on paper records. I keep filing complaints with the municipal hospital to send IT over, which have of course gone unanswered. From what I hear it's not just a local issue, but some widespread glitch with the whole database or something. I don't know, not my area of expertise. My superiors would likely reprimand me if they found out I'm keeping private logs of my visits, but to hell with them. If they don't like it they can fix the damn thing. In any case, let these entries serve as my informal thoughts on my days, like that stupid diary I kept as a little girl, but for work.

Strange encounter today. Just before noon, a young woman came in, looking anxious. The nurses said she was acting jittery. Refused to give her name and didn't have an NHI card. Not that keeping track of one's health insurance status matters much anymore, with the state of the country being what it is, but we still have to maintain the illusion of protocol for someone's sake. It wasn't going to exclude her from receiving care, but it was strange. I know she's a local, I've seen her around. At examination she was afebrile, normal vitals. Non-smoker. She had bloodshot eyes, darting all over the place. According to Mitsuko she appeared manic, like she was on stimulants of some sort. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary; drug use has become more observable all around the prefecture over the past year or so. She reported no drug use- it's not like I could force her to own up to anything, but all the signs were there.

I reiterate all the basic questions Mitsuko already asked. The answers largely match. She reports she's been experiencing insomnia, requests a sleep aid. I do a physical examination, rolling up the sleeves of the hoodie she's wearing, and her veins are dilated. Like, extremely engorged. And dark, bruised, almost like they're collapsed. Like track marks. It was too obvious to ignore; she'd been shooting up. But, based off how she was acting, it wasn't consistent with what I've read in the literature about heroin addiction. She could obviously be on multiple things, but it still doesn't explain the strangest part.

In the middle of our conversation, she asks for some water. I step out to grab her some, come back and hand it to her. She downs it all at once. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I see the skin on her arms clear up. No more blackish veins. Her veins weren't visible at all. The bruising just disappeared. I had to step out again to ask the nurses if they had any ideas. Consulted the literature. Consulted the internet. Nothing. I'm baffled.

I step out again, just for a moment, and when I come back the window is open and she's gone, and there's a bunch of, I'm not entirely sure, red and black vines running down the windowsill?

There weren't entries for every day, apparently only those the doctor had felt were important to make note of.

Date: 9/18

I don't know what the hell is going on. We've had an increasing number of residents come in with lacerations to all parts of their bodies. Most of them have been men, but not exclusively. They seem unable to explain how they got them, but who gets sliced up like that and just blanks out about how it occurred? More importantly, the places they were at when it happened: Some have been able to give vague accounts about what they were doing before, while others come in delirious or even unconscious. I've heard no accounts of animal encounters. Some of them report having been in the woods nearby. One man said he'd been tending to his garden one moment, then the next he'd woken up near some cave. He was 62, but no signs of early-onset dementia, and the rest of his profile gave few other plausible explanations for the memory lapse.

It's possible there's some thugs running around targeting people. It wouldn't surprise me; the area has descended into a state of virtual lawlessness. If anything, I'm surprised things have been as quiet as they have up until now.

Date: 10/6

Another mugging victim, or at least that's what it appears to be. A 47-year-old male, who had been out to buy groceries around 8:00 PM. A bunch of nasty looking cuts, some bruising along his neck consistent with strangulation. He arrived unconscious. When he woke up, his memory seemed mostly intact, but again no recollection of what had happened when he got knocked out. He couldn't remember his wife's name at first, but when she walked into the room he quickly recognized her.

The next entry caught Ren's eye, and he scooted closer to the monitor, reading intently.

Date: 10/29

The powers that be, in their infinite wisdom, have informed me that we'll be receiving a "transfer" from a hospital in Matsumoto within the next two weeks. They didn't specify anything except that they're in a coma. Wonderful. This clinic isn't equipped to tend to those kinds of cases; this is entirely ass backwards. We're only supposed to deal with outpatients, but we have been forced to take on more responsibility with the regional hospitals cutting off access. I guess this person is another victim of the chaos.

I suspect that the hospital he's being housed in now is having to ration resources, and allocation of care favors those that aren't technically already dead. Yet another symptom of our decaying healthcare system. And our little office is left to shoulder the burden. I'd have raised hell about it, but I'm just so damn exhausted at this point. Nobody will listen to me when I tell them we're stretched thin as it is.

Matsumoto is several hours away from Tokyo. How had he ended up this far away from Shibuya?

Date: 11/11

The coma patient arrived. Of all the bizarre things that have happened over the last several months, this takes the cake. We received virtually no information about him- no name, no age, no medical history, not even anything related to his current condition. He's a young man, maybe a little older than my son. He's a bit odd. Doesn't need a ventilator, can breathe without assistance. Yet we can't determine if he's vegetative or minimally responsive. He doesn't respond to stimuli, but he's not frozen. There's observable brain activity, his hands and fingers twitch, and there are facial movements similar to someone experiencing a nightmare. He's even been observed exhibiting myoclonic jerks, but he can't be woken up.

I want answers. What have they saddled us with here, and more importantly, why?

Date: 11/18

I've watched over sleeping beauty for a week now and have observed several things about his condition which defy medical science. For one thing, despite having an IV in for hydration and nutrients the patient hasn't produced any waste. The cath bag has been completely empty, day after day. For obvious reasons, consulting the literature has been a complete waste of time. Someone intakes fluids, they urinate. If they don't, there's a problem. Yet, in the absence of the obvious- obstruction causing urinary retention, which we ran an ultrasound for, anuria might suggest something is wrong with his renal system. But it could be any number of things, none of which really add up based on his labs, vitals, and how he appears to the naked eye. I want him looked over head to toe to uncover whatever is going on.

Did they pass this poor kid onto us because they knew he was going to die? Or have we stumbled upon a freak case?

He read the last passage over again. The state he'd arrived here in hadn't been at all what he pictured. His first thought had been that he'd sustained some sort of injury in their final confrontation that had left him incapacitated. The doctor's account almost sounded like...

Date: 11/25

All of the tests we've ran- multiple ultrasounds, CT, collecting blood from the kid like we're vampires preparing for a feast- nothing. No markers for cancer, no visible cysts. No heart or lung abnormalities to explain pre-renal causes of no urine output. I've never encountered anything this perplexing before. For all intents and purposes this patient seems perfectly healthy, nowhere near death's doorstep. So why is he in his current state, and why is his body functioning so abnormally?

Much to my frustration, I have to put him on the back burner for now. There's been some recent developments in town that have me gravely concerned.

Date: 12/3

I'm so tired. I haven't had more than a few days in the past couple weeks where I could scrape together some time off. The number of patients have slowly dwindled, which has me on edge for other reasons, but the ones that are left are in quite dire conditions, and our available staff has begun to thin out. Yuki, Hana, Jiro, they've all left. Reassigned, or so I've been told. For all I know they've ran out. I'm down to four nurses and my intern. Kagome is missing. She was last seen about a week ago, and nobody can find her. This place is so fucked up.

As if the staff shortages aren't a hard enough kick in the ass, I've now got to contend with my supplies running low. We were supposed to receive a restock over a month ago. We're running low on basic essentials- gauze, bandages, syringes, and biocides. The situation just grows more and more dire. And there's no one who can give us any relief. We're on our own.

Date: 12/7

While I was watching over the coma patient he began tossing and turning, mumbling something about skulls, or about someone named Skull. I'm not sure. Then, it was hard to make out, but he started crying out to someone named Violet. Then, the most coherent thing he said was, "Queen, watch out for the sword!" The poor kid is trapped in some sort of strange nightmare. I can only imagine what kind of hell he's being put through inside his own head. Based on what little I gathered, the little blips of calling out and his whimpering, it sounds pretty gruesome.

...A dream? He couldn't recall any dreams. There had only been that void. That impossibly dark, noisy place where the cries of invisible people reverberated all around him. The place where pieces of him were torn out. The place where he could only see himself, where he watched himself through his own eyes. Ryuji hadn't been in that place, nor Kasumi, nor Makoto. Just him, surrounded by the disembodied screams of innumerable, faceless others, all synchronizing into a hideous harmony.

Date: 12/16

Ryou keeps asking me about what we're going to do for the holidays. I don't know if I have the heart to tell him that I won't be home for Christmas. It'll basically down to me and Mitsuko soon. Everyone else has either left or is planning on leaving before the holiday. His birthday is coming up too. I can't miss that. But I can't afford to abandon the few left who need my help. Especially the kid. I don't know what it is about him, maybe it's my maternal instincts kicking in, but I don't want to leave him.

Date: 12/20

Lately at night I swear I can hear scratching against the windows, like someone or something is skulking around trying to find a way in. Yesterday when I came in the emergency exit by the cold storage room had been opened from the outside. I asked everyone if one of them had done it; no one owned up. I'm considering keeping it barred.

He'd caught a glimpse at a one of the sticky notes on the monitor which mentioned the storage room. Digging through the mass of indecipherable jargon and the different items and rooms they corresponded to, he finally found the one labeled in bold letters: "Cold storage passcode". Too easy.

Scrolling further down, he saw the entry she'd made on Christmas only contained two links. One, evidently, an official report from the local government, and the other, he guessed, a concerned local asking if others had seen what they had.

Date: 12/25

Nagano Prefecture Officials Assure Concerned Citizens That Rumors of Disappearances Are Unsubstantiated.

Weird looking creatures walking around at night?

He clicked on the links, but they were dead. The internet was out, and he seriously doubted resetting a router would help.

Date: 12/31

Ryou's birthday is today. He's 16. I can barely see the screen as I write this, because I've been sobbing like a baby. I keep thinking about what kind of world he's growing up in, how when he was young things seemed so stable and safe, how he had a bright future ahead of him. Always had a smile on his face, even after everything we went through with his dad. In my weakest moments he was able to be the shoulder I could lean on. I've put so many burdens on him. And look at what an awful mother I've been. I've barely been home the past several weeks. He's had to fend for himself, all alone in our house, and it terrifies me. There're thieves constantly lurking around, looking for easy targets. And what's worse, some of them are people I know, people I've treated. I hate them for making me feel this way, like I can no longer trust them. There's this lingering voice in the back of my head sometimes, I hate it too. It tells me I have to hurt them before they can hurt me. I have to take from them before they take from me. But at the same time, I understand. This country is falling apart. We no longer feel safe in our towns, in my own homes. People are broke, hungry. There's little charity to be found, be it from others just barely surviving themselves, or from the government that's failed us.

I don't know what to do. I have to go home tonight. I don't have a choice. But the kid lying in the room next to my office, I don't want to abandon him either. He's someone's child too. He has a mother, a family, people who love him. At least I like to think. What kind of person would I be if I left him here? All these strange noises, somebody is trying to break in, I know it. One voice inside of me says he's not my responsibility, that I have to protect myself and my son even if that means letting someone else get hurt. And what's the worst that could happen to him? It's not like he came in with any valuables, they'll take one look at him and decide he's not worth messing with. God, I hate this voice.

But the other says he's vulnerable. And I have this feeling deep in the pit of my stomach that something is wrong. It says I have an obligation to this person, to protect them from something, and I need to see it through.

I don't know which voice will win out.

He'd reached the end of the entries, and another gnawing feeling grew in his stomach. Like the woman who had been charged with his care, he too was beginning to hate this feeling, hate the lingering voice in the back of his head that was his, but not the passionate champion of justice, of righteous indignation. No, this voice was dripping with fear and loathing. These visceral feelings, the baser, animal instincts they provoked bore into his skull, imploring him to flee, yet mocking him for that consideration. The voice of his other self, his persona, was gone. From the moment they'd entered the clinic he'd felt unwell. And now the distant, incoherent voices which had been mumbling in his ear sporadically since their arrival suddenly became much clearer.

Alone. Abandoned. Worthless.

Taking the USB from the port and turning it over in his hand, he pocketed the device and closed down the file explorer. Stepping out into the hall and past the room Morgana and Lavenza were scouring through on the other side, he slowly walked towards the door at the end, a hulking steel entrance with a keypad adjacent to it. Post-it note in hand, his finger gently pressed the five digits scribbled hastily on it.

1-0-2-1-6

A beep and brief flashing of green light confirms his unintended authorization, and the lock disengages as he grabs the bar to pull the heavy slab of metal back, revealing a spacious dark storage room. He flips on the lights, awakening several rows of blaring fluorescent fixtures, revealing shelves lining both walls carrying a variety of medical supplies. They're mostly things he can't identify.

Alone. Abandoned. Worthless.

Steadily he makes his way through, scanning the various containers for anything of note. There's little visually to distinguish the items however, and he is no chemist or doctor, which makes the endeavor somewhat pointless.

Inept.

He froze, seeing a medium-sized, clear container turned over on the floor near the corner. It appeared to be empty. Ren eyed it curiously, bending over to examine the label closer. He recognized some of the details listed on the bottle as the substance's chemical makeup, but it's mostly gibberish to him. He'd never been one for the finer points of chemistry, although he acknowledged the use it could've potentially had with the Phantom Thieves' escapades. He was literate though, and so some basic information could be garnered.

Sodium Azide

Soluble in water

Store at RT

What really caught his attention were the red diamonds on the side of the bottle, particularly the one with a skull and crossbones within. His eyes widened slightly as he read the text underneath.

DANGER

Fatal if swallowed. Very toxic to aquatic life with long lasting effects.

Avoid skin contact. If swallowed:

The rest of the label had dried blood smeared across it, obscuring the rest of the text and making it unreadable. He reached for the container, but paused and dropped his hand, his instincts telling him to stop. Backing away, inspecting and attempting to categorize the contents of the shelves as best as he could, he could see no other bottles of the substance. But as he approached the shelves on the left, he saw small red droplets lining the floor, gradually becoming one longer, thicker, continuous streak. Tracing its path up and to the side, it curled under a door left ajar. His breath caught, and the hand he'd laid upon the door hesitated. A feeling of impending dread, not unlike the one he'd had the night prior when the beast had stuck its head into his room, seized him.

Weak. Failure. Run.

Pushing the door open, the wafting, putrid scent of death hit him.

Failure. Run. Run.

A woman, clad in blue scrubs and a white coat, stained with crimson, laid slumped against the wall. With each agonizing step he took towards her, his heart smashed harder against his chest. His foot made contact with something, and when he looked down he saw a phone, its screen cracked but still visible. As he took hold of it his shaking hands threatened to send it plummeting to the ground. He managed to grasp it and brought his thumb over the lock screen number pad when it turned on. In one fluid motion he entered a passcode, a guess, but not an uninformed one.

1-2-3-1

The lock screen was bypassed, and texts between her and the contact were on display. She'd begun to type something else out, but it wasn't a complete thought, and it had remained unsent. What had been sent caused Ren's stomach to heave.

"I'm sorry I wasn't home today. I'll be back tomorrow morning, and we'll celebrate your birthday and the new year together. I promise."

"I love you. Sleep well Ryou."

Ren's vision blurred, and he suddenly felt lightheaded. He gripped his forehead, a rapidly escalating headache splitting his skull. His breathing became quick and erratic, and sweat started to pour down his face. Blinking to try to defog his sight, he could see short flashes of people being crushed and electrocuted, stabbed and shot, sliced open and pulled apart. First it was a woman in bright red latex, being impaled through her torso. Then a man with a tail being incinerated by a flash of light crashing down on him from the sky. A girl wielding an axe decapitated by a large blade. Screams of terror, the gurgling croak of last pleas dying in their throats.

Failure. You let them die. Run coward. Run coward. Run coward. RUN!

The room was spinning. Ren backed away and lost his balance, falling to the hard floor. Struggling to pull himself up, he began crawling as fast as he could. But there was no escaping the insistent, disparaging voice, mocking him in sickeningly upbeat sing-song tone.

Bet-ter off dead, bet-ter off dead. Wuh-hyy don't you put a bullllllet in your head? Who's uhh-live to care? They-hey-hey already met. Their. End.

His back made contact with an immovable barrier, and a hand grasped his shoulder.

"Found anything of interest?"

It took him a moment to register the soft voice.

"I hope whatever it is was worth causing me concern. I thought we had agreed you would stay close."

For a moment he couldn't form words, only shake his head as he stared up at her, directly in her face, but past her gaze.

"...Dead."

"P-pardon?"

"She's dead. The-the doctor. She's dead." When Lavenza didn't respond, a look of befuddlement on her pretty face, he raised his hand and pointed to the open door at the end of the room.

Lavenza walked slowly with him in tow, back on his feet, and as she turned the corner the foul familiar scent filled two sets of nostrils.

"How awful. How did she meet such a terrible fate?"

The still shaken boy pointed again and gestured, turning his finger horizontally across his throat and swiping it, indicating the mortal wound she'd sustained. "Throat. Her throat was slashed."

"Hmm." As the morbidly curious girl inched closer to the body, she detected a white powder spilled to the deceased's right, the trail tapering off halfway from the door. She had almost dipped her fingers into it when her wrist was caught.

"Don't. It probably won't hurt you. Probably. I'm not so sure about me."

Lavenza looked at him, then back at the substance, then back again. Finally, she nodded, and took several steps back. Ren tugged at her arm and pointed over to the container he'd inspected earlier. The woman walked over and got down on her knee, avoiding contact, and read what little of the label was not doused in blood.

"Sodium azide? Sodium azide..." Lavenza furrowed her brow, deep in thought.

"This substance is familiar to me somehow. If I recall correctly, it is related in some way to nitrogen gas. The former decomposes at high temperatures and forms the latter."

The boy looked at her quizzically, a bit taken back by her knowledge of the elements of reality.

She elaborated. "Nitrogen gas is an asphyxiant. The inhalation of which can be used as a form of execution."

"I pieced that together. But why did you...?" Researching execution methods. Of course.

Ren went quiet and thought for a moment, then his gaze turned hard.

"Let's grab Morgana and go. We've got what we need." He held up the USB and dangled it between his fingers.

"You're certain?" What should we do about the woman?"

"I want to take her with us; the least we could do is give her a proper burial. But we shouldn't touch her." He clinched his eyes shut and took a deep breath.

"We'll find her son and tell him. And the rest of the town. It's only a hunch, but I'm starting to suspect there's more to what happened here than just the monsters breaking in."

Joker took one last look inside the closet. "I'll take her phone. It could have more information on it."

Lavenza nodded, and she considered asking him if he felt safe handling the device, when it too had been near the toxic substance. But he had already been touching it and touching his face. She'd be sure to watch him, just as she always had. Whether her healing could treat such poisoning should the worst come to pass, she didn't know.

With swifter steps than he'd managed so far, her Trickster made his way out of the storage room and back into the hall, with her close behind. One other question was nagging at her, and though it was one that might've fallen outside the confines of her duties as his attendant and into a role she was uncertain she had the necessary knowledge to carry out, she felt it imperative that she ask. And so, not wholly confident with how to proceed, she forced the words out.

"Are you alright? Not physically, I mean. Your mental fortitude? Do you feel you're ready to confront what lies before us?"

He stopped and turned slowly, looking her straight in the eye.

"No. I don't. Not entirely. But I have to. Because the alternative is that I let these things I'm feeling eat away at me. I'm going to keep kicking my legs, so I won't drown in them."

"If there is something weighing you down, and you do not unburden yourself, it may be what pulls you under in the end."

Ren stared at her silently, a fleeting twitch of his lips passing as if he had meant to speak. Instead, he turned, and kept walking past the examination room where Morgana was still poking through the cupboards.

"Come on, let's go. Morgana, we're getting out of here."

The feline jumped down from the counter and ran after them, carrying a box strapped to his back with several strands of string. "Did you find anything useful? I doubt it's anything as valuable as this bounty. Look at all these bandages I managed to gather up! And these ointments, I'm not really sure what they're for, but they could probably be pretty good for treating burns in a pinch."

"I found some useful things, yeah. And I found some things I'd rather not have found. I'll fill you in once we're outside."

Morgana scampered to his side, and Ren turned his head to get a full view of the items he'd procured.

Ren's eyebrow quirked up.

Is that...is that hemorrhoid cream?