The moment Agung finished scrubbing the wok, the air in the restaurant shifted again. It didn't flash with the dramatic glow of the last two arrivals; instead, the entire space seemed to subtly change its ambient lighting. The warm, inviting tones of the Indonesian restaurant faded momentarily, replaced by an unnerving, eternal blue-green hue, like being submerged in deep water.
The door shimmered, and through the intense indigo glow, the third visitor stepped inside.
He was a tall, thin, elderly gentleman with a long, unnaturally crooked nose and perpetually slicked-back white hair. He wore a crisp black suit, white gloves, and a faint, knowing smirk. His eyes were piercingly yellow, and they held the patient, slightly amused look of someone who knew the ultimate score of existence. He carried a cane, though he didn't appear to need it.
Agung's encyclopedic knowledge immediately sorted the data:
Memory Access: Identifying the Guest
| Detail | Information |
|---|---|
| Character Name | Igor |
| Source Title | Persona Universe (Across multiple titles, especially Persona 3, 4, and 5) |
| Universe Type | Modern Fantasy / Jungian Psychology / RPG |
| Context of Distress | Igor himself is a stable, non-corporeal entity, a facilitator of fate. His distress is likely reflective of a critical juncture in the world he monitors, or a need for information/preparation for an impending doom (The Nyx, The Fog, Yaldabaoth). |
Agung immediately tensed. This wasn't a hero needing comfort; this was a manifestation of destiny itself.
Igor surveyed the space, his unnervingly long features twitching in mild approval. He seemed to recognize the hub's neutrality instantly, and the nullification field didn't bother him, as his power was innate and conceptual, not a learned ability.
"Ah, a most intriguing anomaly," Igor's voice was a low, sibilant rasp, sounding exactly like the voice synthesizer in the games. "A place existing between conscious and unconscious reality... and it smells deliciously of chili and fermented soybean. Welcome, Host, to my brief visit."
Agung bowed slightly, maintaining his composure. "Welcome to the Overworld Restaurant, Igor-san. How may I serve the purveyor of fate this evening?"
Igor chuckled, a dry, unsettling sound. He approached a table, pulling a chair out himself and seating his impossibly tall frame with surprising grace.
"No need for formalities, Host. I am here not for comfort, but for perspective. My current circumstances are… complicated. The human ability to choose their destiny remains a fascinating variable, and sometimes, the best insight comes from stepping away from the Velvet Room's perpetual state."
He rested his hands on the cane, the yellow eyes fixed on Agung. "I do not require a meal for sustenance, but I do require one for experience. Give me a dish that represents a profound clash of will and complex tradition. Something that speaks of the soul's struggle for refinement."
Agung nodded, his mind racing through his menu. He knew exactly the dish.
"A clash of will and complex tradition, Igor-san," Agung replied, turning to the kitchen. "I will serve you Gulai Kambing. Mutton curry. It is a dish that requires fierce heat and patience, where strong spices must submit to the slow, gentle influence of coconut milk, or the meat remains tough. It is a battle between fire and patience."
As the sounds of chopping meat and dry-roasting spices filled the air, Agung posed the unavoidable question to the entity of fate.
"Igor-san, you guide humans through their struggles against shadows and fate. But the Djin who runs this hub—he calls my efforts pitiful bandages on cosmic wounds. Tell me, does a human's free will truly change the outcome, or does fate simply guide them to the predetermined conclusion with a flourish of choice?"