When I looked back in the direction where I'd left my mother,
I saw she was completely confused.
It was in her eyes—wide open, searching for logic in the illogical.
Understandable… Just a moment ago, she'd been in hell,
and now, suddenly, she found herself half-naked in the dark, far from that nightmare.
Her lips moved hesitantly, and she whispered out loud:
—"How… did I get here…?"
Her gaze swept the area until it landed on me.
And when it did, for a moment, everything else vanished.
—"SAM!! WHERE WERE YOU? I was so worried!"
Her voice was heavy with genuine anguish—
the voice of a mother who'd just found her son after a shipwreck.
—"Mother, please… could you cover yourself?"
My voice came out soft, but firm.
She blinked quickly then, realizing her state.
Embarrassment flickered across her face, and she looked down.
—"I'm sorry, Sam… Give me a moment to dress, okay?"
—"It's alright. You're safe now."
Then, from inside the same warehouse we were in,
a familiar face emerged, gliding silently like a ghost through the shadows.
—"Karen!? What are you doing here…?"
But she didn't answer.
Her body moved… but her eyes didn't.
Her expression was blank, hollow—like her mind was somewhere far away.
Her hair was messy, strands falling across her face.
But what startled me the most was a tiny bloodstain on one of her gloves.
Karen finally reacted.
She looked at me and gave a faint, trembling smile.
Her voice was barely audible:
—"H-hi…"
Something had happened.
I knew it.
But I didn't understand what.
—"Do you want to talk?"
She nodded slowly, as if that word had unlocked something within her.
Then she smiled—a sad smile that felt more honest than any words.
—"Y-yes… I'd love to."
Without thinking, I momentarily forgot about my mother.
Something about Karen pulled me like a magnet.
As we walked to a more secluded area, I heard in the distance:
—"Sam! Where are you going?"
—"We'll talk at home—see you there!"
We made it to a quiet place.
The ground was bathed in silver, blue, and reddish light—
a shimmering glow from the three moons shining above us.
Karen walked beside me in silence, until finally she spoke in a clearer voice:
—"Hey… have you ever felt empty?"
—"What…? Empty?"
—"Yeah. Like something was ripped out of you… and now there's only this cold loneliness deep inside."
That phrase…
It stuck in my head like an arrow—one that didn't hurt at first, but never stopped sinking in.
I didn't know why, but somehow I related to Karen.
And for the first time in my life, I opened up—
without being drunk or depressed.
—"Yeah. I've felt that."
—"So… how do you keep going?"
—"I ignore it. And I move forward."
—"What…? How do you ignore something like that?"
—"Easy. Distraction."
—"Distraction…?"
I lifted my eyes to the sky.
In that moment, the most analytical part of me—
buried for so long—
resurfaced.
—"That emptiness… we all feel it.
Most of us ignore it, but it's there.
Some face it… and get lost.
In the end, we're like ants without a queen. A home without order."
Karen listened without interrupting.
Her eyes locked onto mine.
—"Everything born has a purpose—something it connects to or fulfills.
The world is like a giant gear. Everything connects and plays its role."
Her expression shifted. She looked down but didn't stop me.
—"In that gear, there are no extra parts… or so I believe.
Just pieces that don't yet know their purpose.
Human purpose has always been a mystery—
but deep down, at the core of our being… we know it."
Karen was silent. She looked up at the sky, at the three moons,
and a faint smile crept onto her face,
even though her eyes remained dim.
—"Our own nature is our worst enemy.
We'd rather believe in something else—make excuses in different fields.
We always end up back where we started.
And if we keep ignoring that original purpose…
we're no better than hamsters spinning endlessly in a wheel."
When I finished spilling my deepest thoughts, I felt… empty, yet free.
Karen was still there.
Motionless.
Wearing the expression of someone who'd just witnessed something far beyond explanation.
She was in awe.
And though no one would say it—
you could see it in her eyes.
But who cares about thoughts like those?
So I let out a grin and added in a playful tone:
—"But damn ignorance… I still choose it."
Karen laughed.
And her laugh… was beautiful.
Not one you hear—one you feel.
—"Wow, that sounded really deep… So, are you searching for your purpose?"
I scratched the back of my neck, a bit embarrassed.
—"No… I don't even know what it is."
—"Why not?"
I couldn't answer.
I just looked at her… and stayed silent.
—"…"
Then, as if the blue moon reflected her soul,
she smiled sweetly and asked:
—"Just one thing… what's a hamster?"
—"It's like a fat, adorable rat."
She laughed again.
And that laugh… honestly hit me right in the heart.
Brian was an outgoing man, but incredibly closed off.
It was rare for him to show this side—
unless he was drunk.
The reason he opened up so easily was because of the effect of his trait:
📌 "Player's Soul"
He also didn't know what Karen had just been through—
that she'd been assaulted, freed, and thrown out by Henry…
in that very same warehouse.
Unknowingly, he had helped her.
To her, his words felt genuine.
Deep.
Raw.
It felt like a soul that had been hiding something powerful…
had just revealed it to her alone.
It gave her an inexplicable comfort.
An unexpected relief.
And even if just for a moment…
she forgot the tragedy she'd just endured.
She felt closer to Sam,
and began to talk more freely.
—"You know, you've got a talent for distracting a girl."
—"Really? Nah… I just try to be original." (I know I do… I just don't take advantage of it.)
—"And you're humble. Lucky is the woman who marries you."
—"Honestly, I don't think so…
well, maybe—but only when I get out of here.
(Liliana's my last shot, anyway.)"
—"What do you mean?"
—"I plan to earn my freedom… and my family's."
She lowered her eyes slightly and whispered:
—"Then… I'll wait for that day."
—"What did you say?"
—"Nothing."
—"You know, I didn't think you were this reflective."
—"Shouldn't I be the one saying that?"
—"Don't think so."
—"You're an idiot."
—"Wow… you've gotten pretty comfortable."
—"Does that bother you?"
—"Not at all."
Without even realizing it, three hours had passed.
It was just Karen and me, talking.
Then Karen said softly:
—"Hey Sam, it's already midnight… I think you should go. Your parents must be worried."
—"You're right. Same time next time?"
—"Sure, no problem."
I started walking away from the place where we'd talked for hours.
As I walked, I stopped and looked back…
—"Goodbye, Karen."
In the distance, I saw that same sad expression on her face again—
a shadow returning to her eyes.
—"See you, Sam."
I didn't know why…
but my instincts whispered:
"I want to cry."
Brian didn't know that night…
Karen would leave the Valentine estate.