"Now... where was I..." Nagisa's voice was slow and calm, speaking with a gentle tone like a metronome.
The beautiful Eastern-style room began to fade, changed with a foreign scene. It felt nostalgic for Nikolai, but he couldn't quite remember why.
"...Ah yes..."
[This was the place we lived before the accident...]
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.
.
Before the group knew it, the scene changed fully, the misty walls focused, now filled with retro furnishings. An ornate grandfather clock rang out on a low, clear toll.
"Vladimir! What kind of deal did you make with those bastards?!" A voice echoed with a ferocious tone—a silver-haired male shook visibly, his hands clenched in a seething rage.