Order Bureau, Sublimation Furnace Core.
Aimou led the way in front, with Bologue closely following behind. Even though he had mentally prepared himself these past few days, when truly facing it all, Bologue couldn't help but feel nervous.
The Unfettered Poetry Society was just a minor episode for Bologue. Since the encounter on the street, Bologue hadn't sensed that sticky, sinister gaze again.
He guessed that maybe the Unfettered Poetry Society had given up tracking him, or perhaps his encounter with them was purely accidental.
These thoughts didn't bother Bologue for long. He dismissed all distractions, leaving only one goal in his mind.
The surrounding lights gradually dimmed, an eerie white light shone from above, and then a heavy gate obstructed his path, flashing with blood-red warning lights.
Colorful lights painted Bologue's face like pigments; behind the grid walls, the noise of fans spinning was like the buzz of a crowded hive.
