The white room is as stiflingly sterile as always. In the center of the room rests the main console, its timer slowly counting down as always - they had eight hours to rest, it would seem. Even this twisted Game Master had the decency to allow that much.

The lights were low, and in the faint darkness of the room a figure could be seen. Her long black hair was unmistakable: it was Rinne, when she should have been resting. She seems surprised when the other approaches, as if she didn't expect anyone else to be awake right now. Slowly, she cranes her neck to glance at them. "...Good evening," she plainly states.