Roland: Y/N?

As he stood next to the assistant sitting down, Roland's hand moved in front of his eyes, checking if he was still conscious. A long moment followed where he received no reaction until a single sound escaped his closed lips.

Y/N: Hm?

His eyes slowly turned towards Keter's Patron librarian. Upon realizing who he was talking with, his attitude quickly switched and a smile appeared on his face. A sweat fell down once more from the Fixer's forehead as he observed the expression he received.

The eyes staring at him were burdened by visible bags that grew more apparent as the days went by. At this point, the librarian was completely back to his "regular" self with the exception of said gaze showing signs of fatigue. He had the thorns needed to retaliate against Angela and the warm kindness to face the librarians residing in the Library, including the black haired guest.

Y/N: I was just thinking about something, do you need something?

He whispered to his interlocutor in an attempt to escape the ears of the AI currently observing their new guests. Her attention was unmoving along with the rest of her body, she was completely focused on what she was seeing. This made their conversation significantly easier to hide.

Roland: Uh... It's not really "something" that I need.

Y/N: What is it?

He raised an eyebrow out of curiosity before taking a glance at Angela, also using that time to take another peek at their guests. Unlike the previous ones they received, they weren't what one would call "fully human" in the sense that their skin and flesh were replaced with a robotic body.

This, of course, got the librarian's interest. In hindsight, it probably was the reason why the director herself was so absorbed in the sight they had considering her case.

Roland: You look tired.

Y/N: ..If you mean "tired of dealing with Angela's shit" then yes, I'm exhausted. If not, I'm fine.

After a few seconds of silence, the one receiving his words simply denied them and continued with an attempt to deflect the questions aimed at him.

Roland: You-

Y/N: You should focus on what's more important Roland.

Before he could slip in another word, Y/N casually cut him off and pointed at the small window they had to look at what the Invitation was sending them. Angela was expecting Roland to perform his duties flawlessly and now was not the time to fill his mind with worries, that was the thought Y/N had floating in the back of his head.

It was a reasonable statement considering the rather poor treatment Roland received up until now from the cold and selfish machine present in the room with them.

Someone had to be the "nicer" one.

Roland: ...

Their exchange came to an abrupt stop. With no subjects to revive the conversation, the Fixer relunctantly shifted back his attention to the guests they were soon going to receive. On the outside, the assistant did the same but on the inside, it was a completely different story.

...The outside was a pristine doll, wearing clothes made for him by the one playing the grave digger, lingering around a giant dollhouse made by his puppet master but the inside was rotten, ravaged by a malice that the director, the Grade 9 Fixer nor the doll himself could comprehend, suffering without a sign of rest.

Y/N: ...

Left with his own thoughts once more, the librarian sighed in his own head and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to dissipate the fatigue he was experiencing. Many days have passed and they were starting to wear him out. Yet, no matter how tired he was, his mind forced him to stay awake.

The last time he went to sleep, he woke up in a catatonic state before collapsing. The event was so shocking that his mind unconsciously feared itself, knowing that nightmares would be the only things waiting for him once his eyes close.

What if it only got worse? What if something even more horrible was waiting for him to go to sleep? These thoughts kept him in the physical world, refusing his human needs for the sake of escaping a demon he was not ready to face.

His attempts to remain conscious have been successful so far but how long would his body tolerate that rebellion of his? Considering his current state, not long and he knew that.

Y/N: ...I'm still not ready.

He quickly shook his head and changed gears, averting his eyes towards their upcoming guests. From what he could tell from the few words he got, the trio named Consta, Arnold & Mo were having a discussion about their bodies, complaining about their inability to consume food.

This, however, was quickly stopped once a familiar piece of paper appeared out of thin air, stuck directly in Mo's body. The odd group of machines focused on the strange discovery and more particularly, the golden words written upon the black invitation, unaware that their demise was imminent.

Consta: M-Maybe we got too infamous and someone sent us a calling card?

Y/N: If only you knew...

The librarian softly mumbled under his breath just in time before the small window they had to observe the outside world vanished, locking its residents in their own world for now. For a moment, no one in the room moved an inch until Angela turned her head to stare at her uninvited guest.

Angela: Are all Syndicates composed of such half-witted individuals?

Roland: It depends on the Syndicate. The City is crowded with them. You could even say that there's one for every Fixer out there.

Y/N: Every Fixer? I might not remember much but even I have difficulties accepting that.

A frown was given to the one with the knowledge of the City. Sensing the eyes staring at him, the patron librarian hurriedly continued with his statement.

Roland: It's mostly a guess though, if someone tried to remember each and every Syndicate out there, they would probably have time to forget the ones they began with.

Angela: They are that numerous?

Roland: You get a group of thugs to band together and work together, and you get a Syndicate.

Y/N: That's... very lax.

The assistant raised an eyebrow as he uttered the words coming from his mouth.

Roland: Considering how each of them do different businesses, it's quite easy to set up your own Syndicate if you know what you're doing.

Y/N: How much different?

Roland: Anything if I were to guess.

Y/N: ...So that would technically mean that there's a Syndicate out there watering flowers?

A bead of sweat fell down the man dressed in a suit.

Roland: If they get paid, people will do all kind of jobs, no matter how horrible or simple they are.

Y/N: Yea... I can confirm that.

Now, it was the unwilling librarian's turn to drop a few sweats as he looked back at his previous job. The many deaths he had to witness, to endure and in turn, forget lingered in the back of his mind like a ghost.

Yet, despite all of that, he still wasn't paid for all the blood he had to look at, both his and others'. Now that the Manager was gone, Angela was the "highest" person in the echelon and she simply refused to do her part.

Probably sensing that the man thinking to himself was aiming his words at her, the short haired AI silently glared back before grabbing the attention of her "guide" around the City and its people.

Angela: From what I've seen, I can assume those people were machines?

Roland: Despite their appearance, they aren't AI or machines. Pure machines carrying emotions and desires have long since disappeared from the City.

The Fixer's voice swiftly uprooted the thoughts forming in his boss' head with his usual smile, hands stuffed into his pockets as well. Sitting between the both of them on the side, the librarian known as Y/N silently observed the scene unfolding before his eyes, letting out a small yawn.

Roland: These guys are just using whole-body replacements. And low-quality ones from a shoddy workshop at that.

Angela: I see...

Roland: Alright! Shall we prepare for the reception?

Finally, as if breaking the conversation, the patron librarian of keter's floor clapped his hands together to focus everyone's attention on him. The short-haired woman nodded in return and watched the man next to them stand up from his spot.

Y/N: I'm gonna get Morgan. She must be in her room.

The words he whispered to the duo were hushed, thrown nonchalantly without a care in the world. However, as cold and as uncaring they might have felt, Roland could tell he was trying his best to do something to help, despite the restrictions placed on him by the director standing next to him.

Even with bags under his eyes, energy levels reaching a low point and a feeble sanity, he still tried to make himself useful.

As he pondered on that thought, in a separate space, another event was occuring. Now standing in front of a closed door, the one who took his leave took a deep breath and tried his best to hide the fatigue accumulating in his body. Then, with an attempt to look energetic, knocked on the door.

Y/N: Just wanted to tell you that we're gonna have "guests" soon. You should prepare yourself.

Weak footsteps were heard on the other side of the room in response, giving Y/N the confirmation that she heard him. However, just as he was about to make his way to the entrance, the door swung open in his face, revealing the girl with hair long enough to land on the floor.

Morgan: ...Why do I have to fight? I only get in the way...

Y/N: Come on, don't be like that. I'm sure Roland appreciates your help!

In an attempt to cheer up the gloomy assistant librarian, the man forced to work in Angela's grasp adjusted the hair covering her face with a smile of his own. This only brought an unpleasant look from his interlocutor.

Morgan: ...I suppose even a discarded dead body has its use.

Her last statement struck a cord within Y/N's soul, letting a form of pity emerge from his smile.

Y/N: ...

A moment of silence lingered after her final words, allowing her to step outside of the doorframe and make her way to the "reception area" or, as Y/N would call it, the "slaughterhouse". The librarian left behind, burdened by his own exhaustion, aimed a sad glance in her direction before taking a sprint towards the entrance.

As much as he would have liked to stop her and inquire about her somber mood, he knew that doing so would cause Angela to lose her temper. After all, in her eyes, they were all pawns for her to use in order to obtain her goal, mere pieces that were not worth her care.

The thought was enough to make the librarian slow down and groan to himself. The feeling of being powerless against someone who was clearly in the wrong was making him angry, an emotion that paled compared to his weariness.

By now, with all the accumulated days leading to this one, his brain was about as useful as a puddle of mud. Yet, despite that fact, his body refused to stop out of fear. He was walking the fine line between consciousness and dreams, knowing what would happen to him the moment he closed his eyes.

Angela: ...We strictly play by the rules written on the invitation.

Finally, like a light at the end of the corridor, the voice of the AI who brought him back from the dead reached his ears, prompting him to pick up the slack in order to receive the guests. The moment he set foot inside the room, he was surprised to hear one of the "robots" let out a small shriek of fright.

Consta: Y-Yikes.

He didn't even bother hiding his shock. This only grew stronger once the newcomer made his footsteps audible, putting the trio on guard.

Y/N: Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.

Just like the previous times, his attitude flipped, revealing a jovial man that would never exist around Angela's presence under normal circumstances. With no hesitation, he stepped closer and held his hand as a way to welcome the visitors.

Y/N: I'm Y/N, the woman behind me is called Angela.

Of course, even with the strongest mask, some things never change. The moment he addressed his puppetmaster, his expression broke and revealed the gaze of a dead fish. The scene was enough to make the trio sweat bullets, realizing that they might have stepped into something beyond their capabilities.

Consta: I-I'm Consta.

A stutter that was both made because of his badly made body and his fear came out along with his reply as he took the hand offered to him, not wanting to make the man upset. Immediately, like a switch being flipped, the horrifying expression vanished like it was never there to begin with, bringing back a warm smile akin to an angel's.

This obviously, only made their stress level increase.

Angela: ...Ahem. Yes, I am Angela, the director and librarian of my role's namesake. Y/N is my assistant.

Arnold: ...

Mo: ...

Consta: ...

Unsure about what to do in this situation, the trio remained quiet for a moment until the assistant leaned in their direction to whisper.

Y/N: If I were you, I wouldn't believe her kind nature, she's a spiteful demon.

Consta: I-I'm honestly more scared of you right now.

Y/N: ...Ouch.

The taste of defeat was so sour that the loser took a step back from the guests. The sight gave more energy to the AI's smile, which caused the tired worker to glare back at her.

Angela: In this library, you may obtain the books listed on the invitation. Of course, if you successfully overcome the ordeal presented to you that is.

Y/N: Which no one has done so far.

Under normal circumstances, the man wearing the same clothes as the director of the Library would have tried his best to encourage the guests, knowing that he could do nothing to stop their arrival and demise. However, with his brain basically running on emergency power, he simply didn't have the energy to care as much as he would have liked.

Y/N: But I'm sure you'll be fine. After all, these bodies of yours can take a few hits!

As if to demonstrate his statement, the assistant placed a hand on Consta's body. The poor man could only watch a stranger place his hand on him.

Mo: W-We've already got so far. W-We can't back out now, come on!

Mo, taking the roll of the leader, urged the duo following her to step further in the Library, leaving Angela and Y/N in the entrance. The machine simply spoke her catchphrase while the exhausted agent waved in their direction.

As soon as they were out of sight, the real conversation began.

Angela: Y/N, when was the last time you went to sleep?

Y/N: ...Dunno.

He mumbled back, uninterested by her words. The short-haired woman sighed in return, knowing that she wasn't going to get much out of him in his current state.

Angela: For our next guests, could you... not get so close to them?

Y/N: Sure.

With a motion of his hand to indicate that he understood her words, the ex-employee made his way to the stairs, his presence no longer needed just like Angela's. She silently raised her hand and prepared herself to exit the scene.

Angela: ...?

Her fingers were pressed against each other, waiting for her to finish her motion, something that never occured. Instead, her attention was moved back to the stairs once a loud noise echoed. There, in front of her feet, the figure of the librarian was present.

Angela: Of course...

She pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance upon understanding what just happened while her back was turned. The man disregarded her words and immediately fell down the stairs.

The director calmly lowered herself and grabbed his arm, expecting him to suddenly jump back to life and send her an icy glare. After a full minute without a single movement from the man, she simply assumed that his body finally gave out.

Angela: ...

Her hand moved from his arm to his face, devoid of life. It felt like staring at a corpse, a sight she was used to after spending an eternity in Lobotomy Corporation. An expression like this one brought nothing out of her but seeing said face plastered on the librarian in front of her was a different thing.

Her hand unconsciously reached his resting head, her fingers lingering around his throat to feel the air make its way to his lungs. It was the only way she had to confirm that he was still alive. Of course, death in the Library was at worse a mild inconvenience but it was something she didn't want to see when it came to the weary worker.

The tip of her finger slowly moved upward, reaching his cheek. As she moved her hand around, she realized something: this was probably the first time she ever saw him so close without him showing hostility or fear towards her. The thought lingered in her perfect memory, causing her eyes to scan every inch of his face, engraving it in her mind.

Once that was done, she placed her hands under his body and pulled him back on his feet before snapping her fingers, causing the both of them to return back upstairs. The familiar room was enough to make the AI relax.

Angela: That girl is still as useless as the last time.

Upon taking a look at the ongoing battle, these words came out from her mouth, showing her displease. The girl with white hair was visibly showing signs of distress while throwing herself in front of Roland, taking every hit he would normally receive. Her gloomy eyes were locked on the opponents they were facing, not allowing them to damage the man in a black suit.

Visible injuries were all over her, it was a miracle that she wasn't turned into a book by now. Yet, despite all the bruises and bleeding wounds she possessed, her face was not revealing a single hint of pain. The only thing Angela saw in them was a deep gloom.

Roland: Are you alright? You should take a step back.

Morgan: ...

She didn't respond, swiftly taking yet another hit in order to protect Roland. A sign of annoyance formed on the Fixer's face and retaliation soon followed, sending a swing of his sword directly at the attacker and turning them into a book.

This cycle continued until no enemies were present. The man with black hair sighed and wiped his forehead before placing a hand on the heavily wounded girl. She did not react.

Roland: Come on, let's get you fixed up~

Morgan: ...I was useful for once.

She whispered to herself with a weak voice. With that, the reception came to an end and a certain note was written in the back of Angela's mind.

"That girl is a problem."

She couldn't find a reason why she couldn't fight. After all, both Roland and her should technically be on the same level. This left the AI confused, something was wrong but she couldn't find what.

Considering how both Morgan and Y/N interacted together in the past days, her best chance to figure out what was going on was through him. She was going to wait for him to wake up and ask him to start looking into it.