"What is your mother like? Do you have a good relationship with her?" He was asked.

It seemed as if Led had just opened his eyes after dozing off at the sub's library eponymously called Mischievous Soul. Indeed, it had caused a whole ton of mischief. A ton of pure confusion. But the collection was incredible. He would've continued reading on and on if not for the alcohol getting to his head. Perhaps that had freed him. Freed him from dolefully having to prove Enrique Winchesto and the premiers right about their generous goodwill about his confining to an asylum.

He did feel better now, after a good rest.

He imagined what that morning would feel like, back in America. His native state of Illinois. Would it be as murky?

Or would he feel as free?

"My mother sent me off to an orphanage when I was born. She was too poor to afford me. She decided to get in touch on my 17th birthday."

"Oh, sorry. My condolences," Smith replied. "I can't imagine how hard it could've been, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. I wasn't ever close to people anyways," Led asserted, thoughtfully stirring his coffee.

"Gosh. I have five kids, but even if I didn't get that grant from the Abel Mathematical Society, I would've still tried to be there for them. I could never imagine leaving my lil bun yuns."

A little pause was issued. Then Smith sorrowfully stated:

"But, sadly, I'm doing it now."

"Hello everybody!" Mills called out, coming to their breakfast table. He had already filled his plate from the orderly buffet with some scrambled eggs, sausage and baked beans - a typical English breakfast. And oh, yes, add a cup of Earl Grey to that mix. And a few jam-loaded scones.

"Hello," Smith and Led greeted. The morning was still a bit sour from the aftermath of the earlier conversation.

Looking over his food, Led realized his appetite had been instantaneously taken away from him. They had taken it away from him. For whenever he lifted his spoon to taste his cinnamon oatmeal, none of it could go down his throat. Since that evening, he always felt like he was being watched. And he didn't tell anyone, because they would probably assume he was going insane.

But that wasn't the real reason.

The real reason was that he was too fearful to even say a word.

"I believe that in two days we will be able to -"

"Hello! Good morning to all! How are you doing?" And Led felt by the hairs on his back that he knew who had come up to them.

It was, of course, Arlene.

He turned around, and saw her face.

At first, nothing was out of order. But then he saw a little red mark plastered on her left cheek and cheekbone, almost expertly covered by, perhaps, makeup. He quickly averted his eyes from that place, as not to indicate that he had seen it.

"Good, thank you, Miss Winner. Why so joyful?" Smith asked.

"Oh it's because in two days we will be ready to go! Two days before the swim!" Arlene chirped, sitting down with a cup of coffee. "I'm too excited to eat," she stated, noticing the contrast her "meal" held to the others'.

"Are you interested in the physical outcome of the excursion? Why so, if you're a chemist?" Led inquired carefully. His question caused her to look into his eyes.

"I am interested to prove my own theories, which is why I got into the mission," she answered. "Who knows, perhaps this castle-like structure could simply be nothing but the result of a clever interaction between the d-mannitol of Sargassum and the tris(8-hydroxyquinolinato)aluminum of OLED cameras. This may be an opportunity to discover more about Atlantic algae, even though, in the case of the latter, there may not be enough time to utilize it. "

"The image's structure is possibly too well-defined to be a chemical abnormality," Led suggested. "Even though the alarm of the public may originate from speculation, historians and civil archaeologists have looked at it. Our team, which is mostly far from the paleological spectrum, doesn't imagine resemblances."

The conversation took a pause. Led hoped he hadn't hurt any feelings. But he was simply stating the truth.

"Well, a girl can dream, despite all that you've righteously asserted, Mr O'Donnell. Perhaps the phenomena can be a combination of your and my theories. Mine just adds more definition."

"In what sense?"

"In the sense that Bill Meddles has just come to join us at our table. Good morning, Mr Meddles! Very glad you're here!" Arlene swiftly called out, sighting a familiar lanky silhouette wandering between the table rows.

Led thought she was too glad. When she had caught his gaze, her eyes had most definitely expressed the utter opposite of mirth and goodness. In fact, they may have held nothing other than misery.

He had a hunch that she would reveal something after a couple of days.

"Meddles? Mr Meddles is everything alright?" Mills was asking.

He woke up from his thoughts to realize that something was happening. And it was a grave occurrence.

Meddles's right eye was twitching and his hand was furiously fondling his Professor's cube. It seemed like he was using his last efforts to keep it all together.

"Meddles?" Smith whispered. "Please tell us what happened."

Meddles didn't respond. He was still twirling his Rubik's cube with a blank expression on his features. His face was paper white. A feeling of dread overtook Led's soul.

"Miss Chaisson called..." Meddles strenuously breathed, at last. "She said that,... - she said that the Golden Union had visited her,.. eh,..." he broke out into a coughing fit, "eh,... - I have to get my Graves' pills! - and,... she said that we must get going. They warned her."

"What about?" Led asked.

"They said that we have about 10 days to finish it. The excursion. So when we go down to the bottom, we have only one day to make the most of it. After that, they're breaking off contact."

"But it took us 10 days to submerge completely - we'll be 2 days short to return to shore," Mills said.

"I know. That's why we'll have to be faster. These are the consequences of my foolish actions. I didn't pass the medical check-up."

"You, Led, are innocent, but the authorities are investigating the absence of a Milton's asylum patient who had previously escaped," Meddles sighed. He took a sip of water from the tall glass Smith had offered him.

"And, on Arlene, the Union has found some compromising evidence too."

A/N: Fun fact: in the first unedited version there was a typo in the library's name and the facility was called "Mischievous Soup" instead of "Mischievous Soul" xD:) It stayed published for at least couple months before it was changed to "Soul", on November 20th.