"So," he began, tone flat but playful, "what's the big plan for today? Other than perfecting your impression of someone crawling out of a coffin?"
Mira smacked his shoulder without hesitation. "Seriously? He almost died and that's your opening line?"
Theo held up both hands like a man wrongly accused. "I said almost. He's clearly past the corpse phase. I call that progress."
I let a dry laugh slip. "Translation: I look like trash…but slightly livelier trash."
"Exactly," Theo said proudly.
I reached toward the small bedside table where a stack of neatly folded discharge papers waited. The fluorescent light made them look almost too clean — as if medical documents could erase all the blood and screaming that came before.
"I'm actually getting out today," I said, picking them up. "They cleared me for a mandatory contamination check. I've got an appointment at the Mirage Counseling Office in a few hours."
Both of them froze.
Mira's expression was pure disbelief. Theo's jaw literally dropped.
The silence grew heavy.
Mira was the first to find her voice. "…By Mirage Counseling Office, you mean the Mirage Counseling Office?"
I blinked. "…Is there another one?"
Theo leaned in, eyes wide, voice cracking, "Do you have any idea how insane that is?! Even most Bureau employees never step foot into that place their entire career!"
"That's because most of them don't live long enough," Mira added dryly, flicking her hair aside. "But seriously — that office is for elite personnel only. Yuwon, you're like… six promotions away from being allowed to look at the building. How did you skip the entire system?"
Suddenly, the air in the room felt twenty degrees hotter. I swallowed.
"Well… Vice-Director Han kinda dropped by last night and arranged it…"
Theo burst into laughter — loud, incredulous laughter — until he saw I wasn't joking. Mira's wheezing turned into stunned, horrified silence.
"You've been working here for what? A month?" Theo muttered. "A month… and you already have higher-level access than half the Supervisors?"
I waved my hands frantically. "He was looking for our team leader! I was just… the only one in the office. It's not a connection."
"Lucky bastard," Mira scoffed under her breath.
Theo leaned back in his chair, draping dramatically across the top. "I once tried to get a spot on the waiting list after the worm-dimension incident. That's when I learned I need to be a Supervisor or above to even fill out the form."
"That wasn't contamination," Mira countered immediately, arms crossed. "That was you sticking your head into a dimension hole labeled Do not insert limbs."
"The hole looked suspicious!"
"That was literally the Bureau's warning! 'Suspicious anomaly hole, do not interact!'"
"You can't not investigate a suspicious hole! That's how promotions happen!"
"That's how funerals happen!"
Their bickering echoed around the room, sharp but familiar — almost comforting. For the first time since I woke up here… everything felt like it might just be okay.
I let out a long breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
'This peace feels.... refreshing.'
Still…
A thought nagged at the edge of my mind like a splinter.
'Vice-Director Han said I wasn't contaminated…'
The laughter around me faded slightly — not gone, just distant — swallowed by the growing question:
'So why am I being sent to the place that handles contamination cleansing the best?'
I shook the unease from my head. If I kept thinking about it, I'd only spiral again.
"Hey," I cut in, trying to shift the mood, "by the way, look what I got."
I flashed a proud grin as I pulled the golden pocket watch from beneath the sheet. It caught the hospital lighting just right—metallic gleam, ornate engravings, a presence that demanded attention.
Mira lifted a brow. Theo leaned forward, squinting like a raccoon discovering a shiny object.
"That looks expensive…" Theo mused suspiciously. "Did you rob someone in the recovery ward?"
I stared at him, deadpan.
I wish I could say that's the most ridiculous assumption he's made this week…
"Thanks for the confidence," I sighed. "But no. It's an anomalous item."
That got their attention. Instantly, both of them leaned closer—eyes wide, fascination lighting up their faces as if I'd unveiled forbidden treasure.
"Where'd you get that?" Theo murmured, visibly impressed.
"No wonder it's so fancy," Mira added, tracing the air near the watch like she wanted to touch it but feared it might bite. "Is it from Nine Frequency?"
"Nice guess," I nodded. "Yeah. Straight from that anomaly."
The excitement on their faces hit a full-power transformation.
Theo practically bounced in his chair. "Okay but—what does it do?! Don't leave us hanging!"
"It's mainly… an inventory item."
I clicked the top button.
A subtle ripple of space shimmered in my palm, and a book materialized—The one I'd borrowed from the Fox Library.
Mira let out a low whistle. Theo's jaw dropped.
"You just— poof—pulled a book out of thin air," Theo said, eyes sparkling.
"It can store anything, and time doesn't pass inside," I explained, placing the book on my lap. "Perfect for carrying things inside anomalies."
Mira leaned back with a wicked grin. "So next time Theo almost gets us killed, we can just trap him inside a timeless pocket prison."
Theo looked betrayed. "What—why me?! Why am I always the designated lab rat?! I didn't even do anything stupid last mission!"
I couldn't help it—laughter slipped out.
"Relax," I said, waving the pocket watch lightly. "Pretty sure it can't store living beings."
"…Pretty sure?" Theo echoed, voice rising an octave. "PRETTY? Can we please aim for DEFINITELY? I like existing!"
Mira smirked and elbowed him.
"Don't worry. If we ever shove you in there, I'm sure Yuwon will take good care of the pocketwatch."
Theo groaned into his hands.
"That was the opposite of reassuring…"
Warmth filled the room again. Their silliness pulled me back to solid ground—back to the present.
Away from blood. Away from screams. Away from the questions the Bureau refused to answer.
I cleared my throat lightly. "By the way—do either of you actually know where the Mirage Counseling Office is? Because… I'm pretty sure the Vice-Director forgot that little detail."
Mira hummed, tapping her chin theatrically. "Oh, it's easy. It's inside HQ. Floor seventy."
I blinked. Once. Twice.
"…Inside the main building?"
As in… where thousands of employees walk around daily?
Theo nodded, stretching his legs. "Yep. Whole floor belongs to Descent Support. Therapists, memory specialists, containment-prevention experts… and The Mirage anomaly right in the center."
"…Inside the building," I repeated, slower this time. "Like—physically?"
Mira shrugged like this wasn't the single most concerning sentence I'd ever heard.
"Well, yeah. It's extremely stable. And ridiculously effective."
Theo leaned forward, lowering his voice like a campfire storyteller.
"But—here's the crazy part. Rumors say the counselor can look into your Mind. It knows trauma like a bloodhound. It digs up buried thoughts, suppressed nightmares… even ones you don't know you have. All that just to somehow melt away your contamination."
He wiggled his fingers spookily. Mira smacked his arm.
"Don't make it sound creepy," she scolded. Then, after a beat: "It is kind of creepy though..."
I swallowed. Hard.
If vice-Director Han believed I wasn't contaminated…
Why send me somewhere that treats the worst of the worst?
Theo popped back up, suddenly cheerful. "Hey, silver lining! If any anomaly could fix your brain after that whole… Soul-splitting-trauma nightmare… thing, it's Mirage!"
"…I didn't need the full title, thanks."
"Just helpful!" he chirped.
Mira shifted, her voice turning quieter—still casual, but with a softness that wasn't there before.
"You'll be fine, Yuwon. Really. Mirage Counseling isn't like other anomalies."
Her eyes met mine, steady and sincere.
"It actually wants to help."
Wants.
The choice of word lingered like a drop of ink in water—spreading, staining.
'Anomaly that wants to help?'
Before I could question it, Theo clapped his hands.
"Oh! And floor seventy has the best cafeteria coffee in the building. If you come back traumatized, at least you'll be caffeinated."
I groaned. "Is that supposed to comfort me?"
"Absolutely," he said proudly.
Their laughter, their ridiculousness—
it was exactly what I needed.
Even if the silence in my head whispered otherwise.