"With blood and tears, I ran through the Backstreets, armed with nothing but my urge to be free."

Somewhere, in a place where even the grand light above the City feared, a calm breathing could be faintly heard. Taking a look at the world outside, the Backstreets, left them with a bitter taste in their mouth. The ennui of living in a place where nothing was merciful, where nobody would extend their hands for free made the scene outside of the window monotone in their eyes.

An emotionless sigh escaped their lips as they sat down on a chair. The smell of smoke was strong enough to intoxicate someone on the other side of the door, yet it did not affect the current person inside, who simply attended to their duties.

The depressive room grew numb to them along with the lingering scent.

Finally, a pair of knocks broke the silence but not strong enough to cause the one inside to turn their head. Their fingers slowly slid across the documents resting on the desk in front of them. Bored eyes where the only gift they received in return for their presence.

"Unlocked."

Heeding the single word returned to them, the visitor opened the door and stepped inside. A second was spent by the newcomer to be acclimated to the suffocating odor within the room.

"I have returned with news-"

"Spare me the speech, I don't have the patience to deal with it. Just get to the point."

To prove their statement, the one calmly sitting behind their desk sent a glare at their interlocutor, who did not flinch. A single nod was given back as a sign of understanding.

"I have brought some... "bad" news."

"Continue."

"Magpie Office has sent us a worrying report. I did not look at the content of the document myself of course."

With no other words needed, the unknown figure standing by the door placed a single file on top of the scattered mess that one would have once called a perfect working space. The gaze of the listless superior landed on the boring paper. Their hands soon grabbed the "gift" given to them by the one working for them.

...

"Operator Kion has been killed, guess he finally kicked the bucket."

"...The one right behind them in the chain of commands should soon take over as the new Operator."

The person in possession of the document frowned in response to that fact. The air, already poisoned by the imprisoned smoke, shivered at the sight. The last sentence spoken by the newcomer was enough to snap the monotone person out of their impassive state.

"Lian?"

"Yes my lady?"

"Please send a warning to the remainder of our members. Magpie Office has gone AWOL and cannot be trusted anymore."

A frigid stare landed on the one known as Lian. Their superior did not give a second glance at the file added to her already large pile, it was already considered worthless in her eyes. Her fingers grabbed the top of the paper and with no hesitation, swiftly tore it into pieces before tossing everything in a bin.

"Understood my lady."

The messenger bowed and turned to the door, making their exit. Once opened, however, they stopped and turned to give one last look at their boss, who averted her eyes to the gloomy world outside of the room. In one of her hands, a small pot held by metal parts was present while the other held a lighter.

"What would you like us to do?"

"Remain on standby."

"Understood."

One final nod was given to the woman before the door closed. Free from the stare that was stuck on her like a laser, the annoyed superior placed the small object in her hands on the desk and opened a drawer. From it, she grabbed a small bag and pressed the button of her lighter, forming a small flame under the previously mentioned item.

Once properly on fire, she placed it inside the small pot and observed a familiar smoke escape from it, like a demon emerging from the shadows or a soul leaving one's body.

"...Did you think I wouldn't notice your disdain towards me? Still, I have to admit that I wasn't expecting you to kill your own boss to take over the Office, you keep reaching a new low."

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, inhaling the smoke she could no longer smell after repetitive exposures. The world, like always, remained gray in the eyes of the idle resident of the Backstreets.

This world is hell. The truth could not be denied, only temporarily forgotten. Those who live in the upper echelon would like to believe otherwise but the true intelligent folks are the ones who know both the ugly and the good side of their surroundings.

People will try to find meaning in this hellish world at all cost, how much they lose in the process is a mere detail to them. She, on the other hand, stopped when she realized that the cost was too great for her to accept.

With that thought, the solemn woman took a second breath, looking through the window and watching the ones living in the same reality as hers.

...

...

Cereb: Alright mister Y/N, let's give it a go once more!

Y/N: You sure... don't run out of energy.

A certain duo was currently facing each other in the reception area of the Floor of History. One was the newly rescued employee, who flashed a bright while jumping left and right. On the other side, Angela's assistant was sweating bullets, feeling his lungs abandon him.

Cereb: Of course I'm not. After all, we're just training!

His eyes revealed sparkles as he swung his blade around, acting like a kid who just obtained a new toy. The ex-captain tried to keep a smile on his face but the sight in front of him was instead making him busy dealing with his inner questions.

Y/N: Fine, third round.

Cereb: Here I go!

Immediately, the both of them sprinted through the distance separating them and clashed with their blades, making a spark of light flash in their eyes for a brief moment. Sensing that the confrontation was slowly leaning towards Cereb's side, the exhausted worker spun his body around, making his opponent lean forward due to the sudden lack of force opposing him.

This allowed the agent of the Central Command team to go for a swift strike with the side of his blade, making sure to only cause a bruise at worst. The next he knew, his foe was laying on the floor, coughing up dust.

Cereb: Ow ow...

Y/N: You're alright?

His arms were screaming in agony, each swings was a pain he had to get used to. However and surprisingly, the "punishment" he received for forcing his body to fight was much weaker than when he first woke up.

Compared to his single fight against Roland, which made him feel like his body was about to tear apart, he was on his third fight in a row with the pain remaining around a bearable level.

Cereb: That was awesome, how did you do that?

Y/N: Heh?

Cereb: That spin attack, it looks straight out of a game!

Y/N: ...I just took a step to the right, what else am I supposed to tell you?

Cereb: ...Oh.

The gears in his head turned for a bit, which allowed a certain someone to enter the room, Malkuth. She greeted them with her usual smile and noticed the weapons in their hands.

Malkuth: You're fighting?

Y/N: Kinda, he begged me to help him since Morgan was... well, busy.

Cereb: Each time I try to ask her, she just hide in her room, the most I've seen of her is her hair on the floor!

Malkuth: Haha... Maybe she isn't used to talking to so many people?

Y/N: Many? The Library is occupied by a total of 6 people including Morgan.

Cereb: ...Does she hate me?

Y/N: I wouldn't go THAT far. I mean, you both haven't faced each other or even had a proper conversation.

Malkuth's assistant pondered on the words given to him.

Malkuth: Also, Y/N.

Y/N: Hm?

Malkuth: ...Are you sure that you want to do this? If Angela-

Y/N: It's fine, I'll just throw him under the bus.

Cereb: Hey!

Y/N: I was joking, don't worry. I'll just do the usual and we'll be fine.

A faint chuckle slipped from Angela's puppet, which did not quell Malkuth's helper's worries. He let out an awkward laugh as he swiped his forehead with the sleeve of his outfit, remembering how agitated the AI was when Y/N returned from Scorched Girl's book.

...He could already feel a dagger pointed at his neck at the thought of seriously injuring the person standing in front of him.

Malkuth: At least the both of you seem to be close!

Y/N: It tends to happen when they beg you to help them.

Cereb: I have to get used to this place fast, I don't want to rely on everyone!

The recently awakened agent quickly assumed a combat posture and swung his sword in the air. His display of prowess was soon followed by him demanding a fourth round, causing the already exhausted librarian to sigh.

Yet, despite his silent complaint, he took a step away from the Sephirah and prepared his blade. Angela was strict about him not doing any fighting, with the exception being when dealing with the Abnormalities so he wasn't about to refuse an opportunity.

Sensing the upcoming battle, Malkuth stood on the sideline and cheered the both of them. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing in the eyes of the men.

...

The tension between the duelists was like an electric field, making anyone not participating step aside. Finally, once it reached the zenith of its power, the librarians charged at each other. Both tried their best to hold an unfazed expression, desperately attempting to ignore their own fatigue.

Once close enough, a battle of wits ensued. Sparks blinded the battlefield like a curtain of shooting stars, a fascinating trail left behind by the artists dancing around the reception area. No matter how fast they were, the opponent would find a way to retaliate, locking them in a standstill.

Cereb swung his blade, going directly for a disarming strike. Sensing his intent, the weakened doll jumped back and went for a swing using the side of his own. The attack was met with the sword held by employee assigned to the Floor of History. The performers refused to give up, going again and again.

Cereb: I think... I'm starting... to get the hang of it!

Y/N: ...

No response from Angela's unwilling assistant. Their hearts were palpitating, powered by a form of adrenaline that allowed them to not give up. Y/N's gaze was unmoving, not allowing the cheery librarian to get out of his vision.

His hands tightened around the handle of his weapon, allowing him to prepare his next assault. If precise and slow attacks were not enough then he simply had to repeatedly swing his blade until he broke through his opponent's defense.

Understanding to some extend what was about to occur, the bouncy fighter readied himself to dodge to safety. Soon enough, the slash arrived, giving him ample time to step away from his range.

However, in the span of a second following that outcome, the world felt like a frozen land compared to the small area surrounding the duo. With his own eyes, Cereb was able to see his partner's weapon gain a dangerous color along with flames attempting to devour the blade, sending a wave of heat and ashes in his face with its swing. Taken aback by what just occured, everything stopped.

The newly awakened worker's face was now completely covered with ashes, his eyes being the only thing sticking out from the mess that his head has turned into. The spectacle offered to both Malkuth and the unharmed duelist made him look like a cartoon character. Y/N immediately dropped his weapon, causing the fire to die almost instantly.

Y/N: Oh god, are you alright?!

A loud cough replied to his panicking voice. In addition, a cloud of smoke escaped from his mouth along with it, further cementing the cartoonish look.

Cereb: ...I guess that's one way to end a battle.

Y/N: Look, I'm sorry, I don't know what happened-

His attempt at an apology was immediately cut off by the victim himself, who almost jumped into his arm with a gaze revealing a wave of excitement.

Cereb: Do it again!

Y/N: ...Huh?

Malkuth: I think we should stop, Angela is definitely going to notice what happened if the both of you start harming each other.

Serving as the voice of reason, the Patron librarian of the Floor of History stepped in and calmed her excited assistant. On the other hand, the victor was still processing what just happened and glanced at his weapon, still waiting for him to pick it up.

Y/N: ...We should deal with your face first.

His hesitating answer was followed by him grabbing a nearby book in order to tear off some of the pages inside, using them to wipe Cereb's face and get rid of the ashes.

Cereb: Miss Angela's gonna be mad when she sees this.

Y/N: And if she knew what we did a moment ago, the both of us would have been hung by now so stop getting scared.

A grand total of 7 pages were needed to fully clean the librarian's face, leaving on the floor the crumbled papers. With no hesitation, the culprit kicked the pieces of evidence under a table and glanced at his accomplices.

Y/N: We all pretend we didn't see a single thing, got it?

Malkuth & Cereb: Got it.

"Didn't see what?"

...

A long silence followed the question that originated from behind them. The blood running in their veins froze in fear and their bodies refused to move out of instinct. A cold and solemn voice came from behind their back, a voice that gave them a reason to be fearful.

Cereb: M-Miss Angela! Is something wrong?

The trio slowly turned to greet the director of the Library. By her side, Roland was staring at them with a bead of sweat falling down his face, probably understanding that they were doing something behind the AI's back.

Angela: Didn't. See. What?

Y/N: ...

Malkuth: ...

Roland: I'm sure it's nothing to be worried-

Angela: This doesn't concern you.

Roland: ...Sorry ma'am.

His attempt to help the group standing in front of him was properly shut down before he could finish his sentence.

Knowing that staying silent would only make the situation impossible to recover, the one known to be Angela's tormenter in this prison took the helping hand given to them by the Fixer.

Y/N: Our attempt to rescue other librarians.

Angela: ...

Y/N: You of all people should know that if we free more people, we would be able to receive guests with more manpower on our side.

Angela: So you tried to do this without my authorization, unaware of the possible consequences?

Y/N: Would the consequences even be something that we should be afraid of? After all, the Abnormalities are trapped within their own worlds, we don't have to fear about them escaping.

Cereb: R-Right! If other people are trapped in there, people like me, then we have to try our best to save them!

The Floor of History's assistant jumped on the opportunity given to them by Angela's prisoner, trying to flesh out their excuse by adding some emotions. Malkuth nodded along with a light frown, trying her best.

Angela replied with a sharp glare aimed at her assistant.

Angela: Don't pretend, I know what you're trying to do.

Y/N: ...

His will did not waver when confronted by her icy stare. He grew used to it by now so his reaction was minimal at best.

Angela: You're trying to find her, aren't you?

Roland: Her?

Y/N: ...

He didn't answer. The woman caught the bait but also unintentionally tossed her own at her interlocutor.

Angela: I suggest you to stop. This is my only warning. If I see anyone try to enter an Abnormality's book without my permission, I will not be forgiving.

Cereb: G-Got it~!

Y/N: If you insist.

A tilted head with closed eyes was the only expression she received from the man she was observing, clearly not taking her warning as seriously as the ones standing behind him.

Malkuth: What are you even doing here Angela?

Angela: I was hearing some noises from down below, surprising considering the distance between here and the top.

Cereb: Ha... ha...

An awkward laugh tried to slip from the usually excited agent but was swiftly cut short by Y/N's elbow landing directly in his ribs.

Y/N: Oops, sorry, didn't know you were there.

Cereb: ...You could have at least put some emotions in your apology.

Angela: ...

Y/N: So, you're done?

Her answer was a simple sigh. Then, ignoring the guilty trio, her gaze landed on the uninvited guest standing by her side.

Angela: Since you are all grouped together, I want you to go to the floor above us.

Roland: Why? Is there something wrong?

Angela: A certain someone should have awoken and if their opinion is the same as Malkuth's, I would rather save my time and ask you to welcome him instead of engaging in pointless arguments.

Y/N: So you're basically sending us to do your job.

Roland: I guess I can do that on the way up.

Angela: There is no "can", you will.

Roland: Got it ma'am~

...

...

Roland: Yesod huh... miss Angela doesn't seem to have a high opinion of him.

Y/N: Not many people like her after what she did and Angela herself doesn't tolerate people that go against her, you should start getting used to it.

Side by side, Angela's lapdog and puppet shared their own thoughts between each other. One was of course confused by why everyone seemed to dislike the director but the other simply replied with something close to a "you'll see soon enough".

Cereb and Malkuth stayed behind, deciding to get rid of any damning evidences that would make the one above them in terms of power aware of what occured. The last thing they wanted was for a certain someone to give them a second lecture after the first one.

Y/N: However, you shouldn't let that cloud your judgement. Yesod might be more on the strict side but he has his good qualities.

Roland: I've dealt with many serious people during my work, I should be fine.

Y/N: That's the spirit.

He gave the Fixer a light tap on the back as they reached the newly opened Floor of Technological Science, a place Y/N once knew as the Information department. Just like back in Lobotomy Corporation, the main color present was a purple that would make someone bleed if they stared at it for long enough.

As if greeting them, the man they were looking for immediately entered their field of vision the moment they stepped inside, busily observing through a window a bizarre landscape. His outfit was close to Malkuth's with the exception being the color, switched for the same one plastered on every walls around them.

Y/N: Uh... mister Yesod?

Roland: Hello~? Name's Roland, I'm Angela's servant!

Not affected in the slightest by the heavy silence floating in the room, the carefree guest walked closer to the Sephirah. He did not budge from his spot.

Yesod: I am Yesod, the Patron librarian of the Floor of Technological Sciences.

His eyes shifted in Roland's direction, sending a cold stare in his direction.

Roland: Is it just me, or is that a cold and piercing stare that I'm sensing? Feels different from Angela's, I gotta say.

Y/N: ...No wonder you got your limbs torn off with that attitude.

The librarian standing in the back mumbled to himself with a blank gaze, knowing Yesod's usual attitude. Roland certainly wasn't helping himself. Finally done avoiding them, the Patron librarian turned around and shortened the distance between the Fixer and himself.

Roland: Wh-What now? Don't tell me you're the type of person to resort to violence when someone talks crap.

Y/N: ...

A bead of sweat formed on the worker's face. While Yesod might not be one to use his fists, a certain someone definitely would be and he knew that, making him fear the future.

Just like the ex-captain predicted, the man with a purple outfit reached for the uninvited guest's tie and adjusted it without saying a single word in the process. Once done, the both of them remained still for a moment.

Yesod: Your necktie was loose.

Roland: ...Oh. Thanks, you're a nice fellow after all.

Yesod: Tell me, why do you comply with Angela's orders so meekly?

The good mood, sadly, did not last long before the questions returned. The violet Viper crossed his arms and gave a stern look at the carefree man standing in front of him. Right behind him, Angela's unwilling helper sent a small wave.

Y/N: Hi mister Yesod.

Yesod: I am no longer your superior Y/N, Yesod will be fine.

Roland: Hm? Was he also your boss?

Y/N: When you're at the bottom of the hierarchy, everyone is your boss.

Yesod: Unfortunately, this is how Lobotomy Corporation operated, the deaths of many simply erased and employees sent to their demise.

Y/N: And just when we finally gained a light at the end... Angela destroyed it under her foot.

Roland: So Angela did something...

Yesod: She crushed our hope at the very last moment.

Visible anger formed on the Patron librarian's face. Just remembering the events leading to this outcome was enough to make his frown grow fierce.

The only one not in the loop sighed and dropped his shoulders in response.

Roland: Sounds complicated. Why are you even working for her as a librarian then?

Yesod: ...It was part of the deal.

For once, ever since they both entered the room they were currently in, the exhausted librarian's eyes widened, displaying a confusion that left the Grade 9 Fixer perplexed.

Y/N: What deal?

Yesod: ...

The Sephirah remained silent, closing his eyes to avoid staring at the one demanding an answer. His lack of response was met an icy stare from the agent, not aimed at Yesod himself but at the air in front of him, focused on something the men next to him couldn't see.

Roland: So, I can assume that this "deal" is why most of the floors of the Library are locked and the librarians there are asleep?

The Patron librarian dressed in black resumed the conversation, knowing that Y/N probably wouldn't respond for a while in his current state. The cold Viper kept his silence, allowing the guest to confirm his guess.

Roland: Boy, I am not a fan of convoluted stories. Especially if it involves sentimental stuff...

He took a moment to take a deep breath, giving him the time to process what the one known as Yesod told him.

Roland: Anyway, all of us are obliged to help Angela now, aren't we?

Yesod: That is true.

Roland: Let's give it our best shot, then.

He gave a smile to the solemn Sephirah and extended a hand towards him. A second passed, then another and another until the person with purple hair asked a question that left the Fixer speechless for a moment.

Yesod: What is the meaning of this?

Roland: Huh, a handshake. Never tried one before? Y'know, the "I look forward to working with you" kind?

Yesod: ...

Roland: Alright alright, fine. Come on, you should lighten up. If we can't avoid it, we might as well enjoy it to some extend.

Y/N: Heh.

Roland: Please don't laugh at me like that...

A faint sigh followed his words of embarrassment. Yesod did not comment on the scene he was witnessing, content with simply holding an emotionless face.

Roland: Anyway, I just have to bring you some books like Malkuth, right?

Yesod: Indeed, books about the technological sciences of the City more precisely.

Y/N: ...Duh, I wasn't expecting you to- Nah, I can't make the same joke twice.

Yesod: If the both of you have nothing more to say, please kindly leave.

Roland: Will do~!

Eager to get out of the Viper's field of vision, the man presenting a now perfectly made necktie turned around and took his leave, followed by the ex-captain of the Central Command department after sending one last farewell.

Y/N: See you later mister Yesod!

Finally, once the both of them left, a few words slipped from his mouth as he turned to stare through the window.

Yesod: The deal...

...

...

Roland: Man, I felt like I was about to die for a moment back there.

Y/N: Once a certain duo awakens, it's not gonna be for just a moment.

Roland: H-Huh?

Y/N: Just kidding~

The assistant mimicked Roland's intonation as he quickly refused to elaborate, causing the shivers the washed up Fixer felt back there to return.

Sensing the conversation going stale as they made the journey to the top of the Library, one of them spoke up.

Roland: So, what were you all doing down there?

Y/N: ...

A drop of sweat went down the questioned employee's face, also averting his eyes for a moment. He had a reason to not reveal it to Roland. After all, knowing him, if Angela were to apply the slightest bit of pressure on him, he could see him speak to save himself.

Y/N: Huh... secret meeting?

Roland: You were fighting, weren't you?

Y/N: ...

Roland: The both of you were holding your sword when we arrived. I'm kinda surprised that miss Angela hasn't pieced it together.

Y/N: Please don't bring it up to her, I don't need the unnecessary headache.

Roland: If you don't tell her that I'm slacking off then you got yourself a deal.

Y/N: Good.

A handshake was shared between Angela's prisoners, confirming that the pact was formed. Finally, with only a simple smile given to each other, the duo went their own way once they arrived on the top floor.

The Grade 9 Fixer went towards Angela's room while Y/N aimed for Morgan's. As expected, her door was closed, forcing the employee to knock on it to get her attention.

Y/N: Morgan, you're still in there?

Morgan: ...I'm not going to fight, leave me alone.

Y/N: Why would I- Oh right, Cereb. I'm not here for that, can you please open the door?

His demand was met with a complete silence on her side until a "Click" reached his ears, prompting him to stare at the doorknob. The door slowly opened and the exhausted face of the girl on the other side emerged, her hair resting on the floor around her feet.

Y/N: You should at least greet everyone, I'm sure Malkuth would be happy to see you.

Morgan: The bossy woman who treat weaker employees as a dead weight? I'll pass...

Y/N: She got better.

Morgan: ...

Y/N: Cereb also wanted to meet you. You can tell him that you don't want to fight, I'm sure he'll understand.

Morgan: ...I'll pass. He's going to realize how pathetic I am.

Y/N: It'll be fine, don't worry. After all...

"If the worst captain to have ever lived was able to talk to him, you should have no problem."

Y/N: ...I'll be there to introduce you if you have some problems.

Morgan: ...

The girl hiding in her room looked at her guest's face with a sad expression that only seem to grow worse. Morgan's figure slowly began to vanish behind the door she was trying to close, only to be stopped by a foot in its path.

Y/N: Staying locked all alone in your room isn't going to help. I know what Angela is asking you to do is depressing but it won't help if you don't release that stress.

Morgan: I'm fine-

However, before she could finish her sentence, a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her outside of the room, closing the door behind her. Her eyes moved to the floor and saw her long hair being pulled out from under the doorframe by the one who pulled her outside, making sure that it wouldn't get stuck and hurt her.

Y/N: We should really consider cutting them, it's a miracle you aren't slipping on them at every opportunity.

Morgan: ...I'm sorry.

Y/N: It's fine.

Once everything was successfully removed, the librarian grabbed the excess of hair resting on the ground and placed it in her hands.

Y/N: Alright, you should be good for now.

Morgan: ...

The gloomy girl remained silent, simply staring at the one who dragged her forcefully. She had the right to be angry but it never showed on her face, she simply didn't have the energy to do so. She silently followed after him, making sure to keep him in her sight, fearing that everything around her would collapse like a dream the moment she looked away.

This place was hell, a living nightmare on this horrible planet. She was forced against her will to kill people she didn't know simply because the AI who caused them to be in this mess told them to do so.

Yet, unlike what the man leading her was thinking, killing strangers was not what haunted her the most in this prison.

She feared killing the people around them who tried to care for her.

Y/N: Morgan?

Morgan: ...I'm fine.

She followed his footsteps, refusing to leave him out of her sight, fearing that this wavering illusion would vanish and leave her all alone in an unforgiving world.

Every tale has an end and she was afraid of knowing how this one would end.

The Library's threat level has reached Urban Myth!

Y/N's Key Page has been updated to current level!

New Combat Pages have been added!

[Y/N's page info]

[HP: 45]

[Stagger Resist: 20]

[Speed: 1~5]

[Resistances]

Slash/Stagger Slash: Normal/Normal

Pierce/Stagger Pierce: Weak/Weak

Blunt/ Stagger Blunt: Normal/Normal

[Passives]

The Director's Assistant: Has a unique Key Page that cannot be replaced or removed. The Key Page is given unique Combat Pages that can exchanged. This Key Page is unable to use any Combat Pages that are not exclusive to it.

The Director's Obsession: This Key Page cannot have Passives attributed to it.

Leftover Exhaustion: if more than 2 Offensive dice are used on a single Combat Page, the third dice and onward on the Combat Page lose 1 Power.

???: -

[New Combat Pages]

Number of cards: 3

Number of cards: 3

Number of cards: 1

Number of cards: 3