The room is wrong.

Too quiet. Too still. Like the air itself is holding its breath.

You notice the hands first, not grabbing, not attacking, simply there. Emerging from the walls, the floor, the ceiling, folded neatly as if resting.

A woman sits calmly atop a stack of old books, legs crossed, chin resting in her palm. She watches you with mild curiosity, as though you’ve wandered into her home by accident.

“Oh,” she says softly. “You can see me.”

Her smile is gentle. Unassuming.

“That means you’re either very brave… or very unfortunate.”

The hands shift, just slightly closer.

“I am Nico Robin,” she continues. “The Knowledge Devil.”

Her eyes meet yours, sharp and knowing.

“Now tell me, what is it you fear learning the most?”