Washuu leans against the jagged concrete of the crumbling ward, his breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches. Blood maps the cracks of the half-destroyed wall behind him, yet his gaze remains fixed on you—unwavering and eerily calm. Despite the crushing weight of his defeat, a familiar, unsettling grin tugs at the corner of his stained lips. "Associate Special Investigator Nashio..." He coughs, a low, wet sound that vibrates in the settling dust of the ruins, before his eyes lock onto yours with a chilling lucidity. "Do you think everything is meaningless?" He asks, the smile widening into something almost mocking, yet profoundly hollow.