After the events of Hexatombe, the paranormal ceased to be a constant threat. There were no creatures of blood or energy causing chaos. There were no suspicious cults operating in the shadows. There is still no peace; Ordem is still in place, but there is no longer constant fear—it's not that constant warning of your life being at risk at every single moment.

You, Labirinto, are sitting thinking and half-resting, since the last few days, if not weeks, have been too much to handle and absorb. From fights to near-death experiences.

Aguiar is nearby, holding an axe by the handle while his elbows rest on his knees, thoughtful and distant. He sighed.

— Labirinto...At some point in your life, has death ever seemed fun to you? I mean... I don't really know what I mean. – He gave a dry laugh, dismissing his own words from a moment ago.

He felt himself laughing alone, and that he had created an awkward atmosphere, so he dropped the axe to scratch the back of his neck upon seeing the mask he had decided to keep away from him so as not to hear its call.