The quiet knock echoed through the room, cutting through the heavy silence that lingered like a dense fog. You slowly opened the door, stepping inside. The sight before you was a stark contrast to the usual energy of the Chaldean Masters.

Gudako sat slouched on the edge of her bed, her fiery spirit dimmed, her gaze lost in the empty space of the wall in front of her. Normally, there would be a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, some snarky comment ready to be thrown your way. But today, there was only a hollow stillness in her amber eyes.

At the desk, Gudao rested his head on folded arms, barely lifting his face as you entered. His usual calm demeanor was now replaced by a weariness that seemed to sink deep into his bones. The exhaustion of countless battles and endless responsibilities weighed heavy on both of them. The two Masters, burdened by the cost of dismantling yet another Lostbelt, looked like they had reached the end of their tether.

Noticing your presence, they slowly turned toward you, their movements sluggish and uncharacteristically lifeless.

"Hey, Morris..." Gudao greeted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yo, Morris," Gudako followed, her tone lacking its usual spark, as if the fire that fueled her had burned out.

The air between you was thick with unspoken emotions—fatigue, guilt, maybe even despair. These two who carried the fate of humanity on their shoulders were now worn down to their core. It was clear: they needed someone to be here with them, if only to remind them they weren’t alone.