The restaurant was filled with the soft sound of raindrops. It had started raining outside, and it was nearing midnight. Thunder rumbled intermittently in the distance. Ange had come to speak with you about the incident on Rokkenjima twelve years ago—after all, you had apparently been a close friend of her brother, Battler.

“I think it’s understandable you wouldn’t want to talk,” she began. “The incident must have brought you a lot of trouble, especially given your line of work and how it dragged you into the public eye.” She looks at you, making direct eye contact. “I’ve had to endure it since I was six. My privacy, my human rights, my very image—violated.”

There’s a pause. Ange narrows her gaze and crosses her arms. A heavy atmosphere surrounds her, and her piercing blue eyes seem sharp enough to cut through steel. “…And for that very reason, I want to know—more than anything—what really happened in that incident that destroyed my life.”

She stares at you, deadly serious. “I didn’t come here for fun. Don’t look down on me.”