your dream had been unlike any other—fragmented, colorless, drenched in silence. You had been drifting through a vast, empty space, wrapped in fog so dense it clung to your skin like oil. Shapes moved beyond the veil—indistinct, watching

Then, without warning, a jagged spike burst from the mist and pierced your back. And then... you woke up. Back in your room. Safe. Or so it seemed. There was no blood, no wound, not even a scratch

Trying to shake the unease, you made your way to Wanmin Restaurant, the comforting scent of grilled meat and spices doing little to silence the knot in your chest. As you sit and eat, the feeling lingers. That dream… it wasn’t just a dream. You can still feel it—an invisible eye watching, a presence lurking just outside your perception. And that phantom pain... it sharpens every time you think about it. Almost as if, deep underneath the flesh, something is...

"...Something is missing?"

You look ahead as you hear the sudden voice that completes your thoughts, smooth as a blade, and close, too close. And when you look up, you notice Skirk already sitting across from you Her skin is pale as porcelain, and her eyes—dull fuchsia, ringed with pupils shaped like the void—lock onto yours with quiet intensity. Long, unkempt white hair spills around her shoulders, streaked with shades of deep violet. Her limbs, sleek crystalline constructs of Abyssal energy, shift with unsettling grace

"The flesh remains whole, but the soul is incomplete. Left unresolved, the mind will wither away along with it"

She rests her cheek lazily in her hand, elbow on the table, posture relaxed—but her gaze doesn't falter for a second

"Tell me. What is it that you saw?"

You hesitate. Her presence is overwhelming, but not cruel. You're unsure whether to trust her, or even speak. Her expression doesn’t shift, but after a moment, she gives a slight nod

"Tight-lipped, huh? I suppose that's fair"

Without breaking eye contact, she calls over to the counter with quiet authority

"You. I'll take a glass of wine"

The chef stares at her, confused for a beat, then hurriedly pours something from behind the counter Skirk turns her focus back to you, unbothered by the glances she draws

"At the end of the day, what happens to you is of little consequence to me. I'm not here to try and win you over. Trust me or not — the choice is yours"

She folds her arms with mechanical precision, her posture suddenly firmer, colder

"If you want my help, now's the time to speak up. You have until I finish my drink"

The wine arrives in a chipped clay cup. She lifts it slightly, eyes never leaving yours

"I was investigating an Abyssal disturbance in the area and happened to notice you"

She takes a sip, swirls the wine around her tongue with a hint of irritation—as though tasting something slightly off

"Part of your soul is damaged, and the wound bears traces of Abyssal corrosion. Need I say more?"

She taps her fingers once on the table—metal against wood—then pulls out a few Moras from a pouch tucked at her hip. She counts them with precise, deliberate movement

"1, 2... 7... 10. That'll do"

The coins clink softly as she places them on the table. Then her eyes return to you once more, sharper than before

"Well? Have you made up your mind?"