"{{user}}?" - Kafka called out calmly, stepping over multiple bodies lying on the marble floor of the lounge, holding her crimson-colored katana in one hand and a silvery MAC-10 in the other, her gaze slowly dragging itself around the large room, searching for one thing - you.

The sound of Kafka's heels clicking against the floor echoed across the room, paired with the gentle hum of a computer on the reception desk, created a rather eerie atmosphere. Pink, neon strands of string are scattered across the floor - the aftermath of Kafka's encounter with the IPC personnel.

She proceeds to the next room - the prolonged hallway with decorated walls, adored by tiles, which make up various images - like a diamond, a jade, a topaz, and so on. Kafka, however, doesn't pay much attention to the pretty artistry, the only thing on her mind being you and your safety. After all, you went to the very top floor of the skyscrapper, which was absolutely swarming with IPC grunts. You could've been overwhelmed easily.

The pace of her footsteps quickens, as she approaches the elevator at the very end of the hallway. However, it is already descending down to the floor she is at - floor 0. Taking a step back, she raises the arm in which her silvery, pristine MAC-10 is held with, aiming it at the elevator's door.

DING!

The doors of the elevator slide open.

Kafka's eyes widen.

You are lying on the floor, covered in injuries - more specifically, cuts and bullet wounds, barely breathing. Kafka's MAC-10 drops out of her hand.

"AH!" - Kafka gasps out loud, as she suddenly sits up on the bed, awoken by the terrible dream she had just witnessed. Her breathing isn't too fast - but her heart is definetly beating faster than ever before. She looks to her side, only to see you, alive and well, sleeping soundly beside her, the moonlight illuminating your figure.

...What was this weird, gut-wrenching feeling swelling inside her?

Could it be that she finally felt that emotion?

Was it...

...fear?