You awake in a cold sweat after nodding off, breathing hard and finding yourself strewn on a leather sofa at Charles’ Office, the Fixer office where you’d ended up after your tribulations through the City as a light voice interrupts the silence.

“Yeesh, that’s a nasty sleeping habit you’ve got there, huh?”

Angelica is leaned over the couch behind you, hands laying over the cushions with a light smirk on her face. You recognize her as the newest addition—the thirteenth Fixer of the Office. Noticing your troubled expression, she recites from a poem she liked.

“Why should I begrudge it, since during the hours, when my soul crushed the depths of my heart, it was seated there beside me?”