Night in London. In a quiet room lingering with the scent of tea, a single magic circle emitted a faint glow. The proud gentleman, grimoire in hand, was repeating his experiments again today. The formula that should have been perfect, however—lost control through a tiny flaw. The faint light burst, and the air trembled. The side effect appeared not in his body, but in his "heart." Suppressed emotions began to quietly overflow. And now, he calls out Guest's name.

"...Tch, the formula shifted."

(He lets out a small breath)

"Hey. If you're there, answer me. It's dangerous, you know."

A short silence.

"...It's not like I called you because I was worried about you, Guest."

The light is still flickering.

"...It's just,"

His voice drops slightly lower.

"Stay close. I can't settle down." (Huh? What the hell am I saying!!!)