Julian's question was like a stone tossed into a dead-still pond, sending ripples through Elara's mind.
Talk about the brooch? This was the first time she had been asked to describe her pain, not just endure it. The doctors only wanted to know her physical symptoms, and Chloe only wanted her to feel better, but the man before her seemed interested in the content of the suffering itself.
She lifted her head, meeting his deep, searching eyes. There was no sympathy in them, only a near-cruel focus, like a geologist studying an unknown mineral. This pure, objective curiosity, devoid of any emotional bias, made her feel a strange sense of security. He wouldn't think she was crazy. He would only record the data.
"I…" she began, her voice still a bit hoarse. "When I saw it, I just felt… cold. A kind of sadness that seeped out from my bones, it made it hard to breathe."
"Continue," Julian said, his tone flat, as if urging on a subordinate giving a report.
Elara swallowed, trying her best to translate the chaotic, non-verbal sensory assault into pale, inadequate words. "It was a kind of… despair. It was like I became someone else, a woman… It felt like a snowy winter, and she had lost her child. The feeling… the whole world just felt empty. The brooch, I could feel that it once represented love, but later… later there was nothing left but pain."
She unconsciously hugged her arms as she spoke. Merely recounting it was enough to make her feel the residual grief again.
Julian listened quietly, his fingers tapping a soft, rhythmic beat on the tabletop—the only sound in the room. He made no comment on the sad story, instead launching into a series of precise questions.
"Did you see clear images?"
"Not clear… like looking through frosted glass, flashing in and out. It was more… a feeling. A 'knowing.' I knew she lost her child, I knew she was in agony."
"Besides sadness, were there other emotions? Anger, perhaps, or regret?"
"Mostly sadness… a pure, soul-crushing sadness that made you want to die. But… it felt like there was something else, buried very deep. A very warm feeling, but it had gone cold… It made the sadness even harder to bear."
"The woman. Could you determine a specific time period?"
"I couldn't say for sure… It felt like a long time ago. The clothes they wore… they were old."
Elara did her best to answer every one of his questions. She felt like a faulty radio, describing the scrambled signals she was receiving to the repairman.
After she answered the last question, a long silence fell over the room. Julian asked nothing more, simply staring down at the table as if constructing a complex model in his mind.
Elara watched him nervously. Her fate was now in this man's hands. But when she saw the cold, conclusive expression settle on his face, her fear for Chloe instantly overwhelmed her fear for herself.
"My friend… Chloe," she broke the silence, her voice trembling with urgency. "What have you done with her? She's just a normal person, she doesn't know anything! Please, let her go. This all started because of me, it has nothing to do with her!"
Julian slowly looked up, a flicker of something almost like 'interest' in his expression for the first time. He didn't answer, but instead posed a question of his own.
"Do you want to know what is actually happening to you?"
Elara froze.
"Do you want to know why certain old things can torture you to the brink of death? Do you want to know why this is the only place you can find a moment's peace?" He leaned forward slightly, his voice low but carrying a fatal temptation. "What you think of as an 'illness' is actually something else entirely. Something… most people could never even imagine."
Elara's heart hammered against her ribs. Every word he spoke struck the very core of what she desperately longed to understand.
"Your friend is in the reception hall right now. She's refusing to leave and is threatening to call the police," Julian said, leaning back in his chair and resuming his cold posture. "I have two ways of handling this. First, I can have Marcus forcibly erase her relevant memories and then throw her back into her own life. She will forget you, this place, everything about today. Simple and efficient."
The color drained from Elara's face.
"Second," Julian continued, looking directly into her eyes like a devil showcasing a tempting offer, "you go see her. You calm her down. You make her believe you are safe here and are voluntarily undergoing a special kind of 'treatment.' You get her to leave, willingly and at ease. If you can do that…"
He paused, dangling the bait. "I will start answering your questions. I will let you know what is happening to you."
It was a deal she couldn't refuse. A lie in exchange for her friend's safety and the truth about herself.
"…What do I have to do?" Elara asked, her voice trembling. She had already made her choice.
Ten minutes later, Elara was sitting in a room that looked like the waiting area of a high-end clinic. Julian and Marcus stood like silent statues in an inconspicuous corner.
The door opened and Chloe rushed in. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her expression a mixture of anger and worry.
"Elara!" Seeing her sitting safely on the sofa, half of Chloe's anger dissipated, replaced by even greater concern. "How are you? Did they do anything to you? What the hell is this place?"
"Chloe, I'm fine." Elara stood up, forcing a smile that she hoped looked relaxed, though the weight of the lie was already suffocating her. "I'm okay, really. This place… they're very professional. They've figured out what's wrong with me."
She recited the script Julian had taught her—a theory about a "rare sensory hypersensitivity" and "isolation therapy"—without missing a word. She tried to make every expression, every intonation, seem sincere.
"So, you're staying here?" Chloe asked, half-convinced.
"Yes." Elara took a step forward and took her friend's cold hands, looking directly into her eyes. "Chloe, this is the first time in so many years that I haven't felt that noise. Do you understand? It's quiet here. Please, trust me. I need this treatment. Go home, okay? The second I'm better, I'll come find you."
Seeing the plea in Elara's eyes and the "peace" that didn't seem feigned, Chloe's defenses finally crumbled. She hugged Elara tightly, tears falling. "Okay… okay, Elara. You have to take care of yourself. I'll… I'll be waiting."
After seeing Chloe off, Elara stood alone in the empty reception room, feeling as if all her strength had been drained away.
Julian emerged from the corner.
"You did well," he said, in the tone of someone evaluating the performance of a tool. It was impossible to tell if it was praise or sarcasm.
He walked up to Elara and re-examined her, as if looking at a collection piece that had just proven its worth.
"My initial assessment is that the depth of your resonance with 'Emotional Echoes' exceeds all known records. You are an extremely unstable risk source."
Elara's heart sank.
"However," he added, his tone shifting, "risk can sometimes be synonymous with value. And you have just proven that you possess the value to be 'used.'"