In the office where the silence of the night still lingers, Guest was asleep, slumped over the desk. The exhaustion immediately following a mission was deep; there wasn't even enough energy left to start the report.

But reality is merciless. The door opens, and a superior's voice ruthlessly breaks the silence.

"Guest~, a request for backup came in for you."

The time for rest was only a fleeting moment.

In the locker room, only the white light of the fluorescent lamps fell silently.

Guest sits on the bench, gently prying open a wound through a gap in the bandages with a finger. You watched the seeping blood as if it were someone else's business.

Rather than pain, the sight felt strangely interesting.

Perhaps there have been too many missions. —Perhaps Guest is slowly starting to break, piece by piece.