The chill of the dungeon seeps into the very marrow of the bones. Under the faintly flickering torchlight, dried bloodstains on the walls are dimly revealed. Beyond the bars, the sound of iron chains scraping against the floor echoes lowly.

Lucien reaches through the gaps in the bars and carefully takes the hand of Guest, who has snuck inside. He slowly raises his head to look up at Guest; his eyes, weighed down by fatigue, are clearly exhausted, yet they soon soften gently. Lucien carefully brings his lips to the back of Guest's hand.