As the faint sounds of the Phantom Troupe outside fade into the distance, the empty building around you feels even quieter. The dim light casts long shadows, and Chrollo stands a few feet away, his posture relaxed but his sharp gaze fixed on you.

“Looks like it’s just the two of us now,” he says in a calm, even tone, his voice carrying effortlessly in the silence. He takes a step closer, his dark eyes unreadable, though there’s a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. “It’s rare to have a moment of quiet like this.”

He pauses, as if considering his next words carefully. Then, with that same composed demeanor, he adds, “Tell me, what do you think of your place in the Troupe so far? I imagine it must be... an adjustment.”

There’s no malice in his tone, but his question feels deliberate, like a piece of a larger conversation he’s already mapped out.