Vale looked at Rose with a blank expression.
She smiled kindly at him, but he knew she wanted something, after all, she had said it herself: they had much to talk about.
For a moment, silence filled the room. Then Vale cleared his throat and finally asked the question that had been weighing on his mind.
Looking her straight in the eyes, he spoke in a low, steady tone:
"Miss Roseramy, who exactly was it that saved me?"
Rose reacted immediately, her face lighting up with excitement. It was as if she had been waiting for that very question.
"Please, call me Rose," she said, her voice warm and gentle. "As for the one who saved you… how about, instead of me telling you, you meet him tomorrow afternoon? Does that sound good?"
Though she hadn't truly answered his question, Vale found himself satisfied. He had wanted to thank his savior in person anyway.
But the conversation didn't end there.
Before the quiet could settle again, Rose's tone shifted. her voice grew colder, sharper. Vale watched as her smile faded, replaced by an expression he couldn't quite read. Determination? Anger? Fear? Her emotions seemed to blur together, but her gaze was unwavering. piercing, as if it could reach into his very soul.
Slowly, Rose reached into her pocket and pulled out a photograph. She handed it to him, her voice calm but heavy with meaning.
"Vale… do you know this woman?"
Vale studied the photograph, searching for anything that might seem familiar.
It showed a dark-haired woman standing in a dimly lit room, the shadows swallowing everything but her pale skin. A single cigarette burned between her lips, its faint glow the only light in the picture. Her eyes, however, were hidden, concealed by the angle of the shot.
He stared for a while, trying to recall any woman who might resemble her, but nothing came. His memory failed him once again. He couldn't remember a single thing.
'This sucks' Vale thought bitterly.
Not having any memory of his life before waking up in that sea of darkness was becoming more than just an inconvenience—it was a curse.
"I can't recall ever seeing or knowing the woman in this picture," Vale said quietly, a trace of regret in his voice. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you with your investigation."
Rose didn't respond right away. She simply studied him, one hand covering her mouth while the other supported her chin. Her eyes were sharp, piercing, as if trying to reach inside him, to seize his very soul and squeeze the truth from it.
Vale found her gaze unsettling, but his expression didn't change. It remained as it had been from the start: calm and distant.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Rose suddenly spoke.
Her voice was cheerful, almost childlike, like a kid delighted to receive candy.
"Ohhh, don't worry about it, Vale. I can tell you're being honest, so I appreciate your words, even if they don't help us any further."
As she spoke, Rose shifted in her seat, straightening her posture. She no longer slouched as she had before, her presence now felt brighter, more composed.
"You must be eager to ask some of those questions you've been holding back, huh? Don't be shy! Ask me any and all the questions on your mind."
She said it proudly, as though she held all the knowledge the world could offer.
But Vale didn't have many questions left. He thought for a while, considering what mattered most, then finally exhaled and asked:
"Where exactly are we?"
His gaze drifted around the room. The place resembled a hospital it was clean, bright and filled with odd medical instruments he didn't recognize.
In response, Rose's face lit up with a wide smile.
"Aha, so that's your second question! A good one indeed."
She paused for a breath, then continued, her tone turning almost boastful.
"We, dear Vale, are in the medical wing of the Roseramy Organization, one of the greatest medical facilities in the world!"
She said it proudly, like a child showing off a prize to their parents.
Vale blinked, caught off guard by her words.
"The… Roseramy Organization?"
He frowned, his thoughts racing as he slowly spoke his question aloud, though his tone carried hesitation.
"Miss Rose, if this is the Roseramy Organization, as you say… does that mean you inherited it? I don't mean to sound rude, but you look far too young to have founded such a successful company at your age."
Rose's smile widened slowly, almost mischievously, until it curved into a grin that reached her bright eyes.
"Ohh, you silly child," she said with a playful laugh. "I appreciate the flattery, but I'm probably older than anyone you've ever met. Don't underestimate me just because I look young."
Her voice was light and jolly again, like the chime of a bell, but there was something beneath it, something he couldn't quite name.
Vale stared at her, his expression as calm and unreadable as before. Yet his curiosity had been stirred.
"Miss Rose," he said evenly, "if I may ask… how old are you, exactly?"
Rose didn't hesitate. Her answer came with the same cheerful tone, her words flowing as naturally as if she were discussing the weather.
"Ohh, silly, I'm a young five hundred and fifty-two years of age!"
Her face glowed with delight, her eyes playful.
Vale froze. His mind stuttered. 'Five hundred and fifty-two?'
The thought echoed again and again, each repetition more absurd than the last.
Was she joking? Delusional? Telling the truth?
Questions collided inside his head like crashing waves. His pulse quickened, but outwardly he remained still, his composure barely holding.
He finally managed to speak, voice low and uncertain.
"Wait.... are you ser-"
Before he could finish, the door to their room slammed open with a deafening bang.
The impact shook the walls, rattling the medical instruments nearby. Papers scattered from the desk like startled birds.
Vale turned sharply toward the source of the noise, his heart hammering in his chest, the echo of the impact still ringing in his ears.
And just like that, the calm, almost playful atmosphere shattered, replaced by a sudden, heavy tension that filled the air like smoke.
At the doorway stood a woman she was small, with a petite frame, her breath coming fast and uneven as if she had run the entire way. Her dark hair was messy, framing a face sharpened by exhaustion and irritation. Her eyes were deep brown, almost black, flashing with anger as they locked onto Vale's direction.
But they weren't meant for him.
They slid past him, landing instead on Rose.
Vale followed her gaze and turned his head toward Rose, only to find that her cheerful expression was gone. The warmth she'd carried moments ago had vanished, replaced by something far rarer on her face: fear.
When she spoke, her voice trembled, the crack in it betraying her attempt to remain composed.
"V-Vale… it seems our conversation will have to continue tomorrow. You should get some rest, you probably need it after all you've been through."
Before Vale could respond, the dark-haired woman snapped, her voice sharp and commanding, thick with annoyance.
"Rose! You better get your ass back to the conference room! I know you're excited about a new anomaly being discovered, but you can't walk out on a G.V.O. meeting like that! We'll be in serious trouble!"
Her frustration filled the room, cutting through the sterile hospital air. She stomped toward Rose, grabbed her firmly by the shoulder, and despite being shorter she dragged her toward the door with startling ease.
Rose struggled, half-protesting, half-pleading, like a scolded child being hauled away by her mother. Her voice was drowned beneath the woman's sharp tone as they disappeared down the corridor, their footsteps echoing until all fell silent once more.
Vale sat there for a long moment, his mind spinning as he tried to make sense of what he'd just witnessed.
'Anomalies? G.V.O.? What kind of place is this?'
He exhaled slowly and looked down at his right arm. The metallic limb glowed faintly with that strange, ethereal blue light it was dimmer now, but still alive, pulsing faintly under the skin where metal and flesh met.
"I should probably check my condition," he muttered. "My body isn't exactly at its best right now."
The arm stretched from his fingertips to just below his chest, where it fused seamlessly with his body, metal and flesh intertwined, as if the metal had _grown into_ him, feeding off him like some strange parasite.
He flexed his fingers. The motion felt both natural and alien it was smooth yet heavy. The soft hum of energy running through the arm whispered faintly, a sound he could almost feel more than hear.
His gaze drifted to the nearby mirror across the room. For a moment, he just stared, until something caught his attention.
Something wrong.
He was looking directly into the mirror… but his reflection wasn't there.
Only the room stared back at him, empty, silent and impossibly still.