Liliane had felt off since the moment she woke up.

  At first, it was just a subtle discomfort—a tightness in her lower stomach, a vague soreness in her back. But as the day went on, it grew worse.

  A deep, throbbing pain settled in her abdomen, waves of cramps rolling through her body with increasing intensity.

  Her movements felt sluggish, her body heavy, and—most concerning of all—when she excused herself to the bathroom, she noticed blood.

  Her breath hitched.

  She stared at it for a long moment, her mind racing.

  She wasn’t wounded. There was no cut, no injury—nothing that explained this.

  And yet, she was bleeding.

  Panic crept up her spine.

  Was something wrong with her?

  Had she been poisoned?

  No, that wouldn’t make sense. There were no other symptoms—just the pain, the weakness, the…

  She didn’t have an answer.

  And worse—she had no idea who to ask.

  She felt ashamed of her ignorance.

  Her body was supposed to be human now. It should have been natural. But somehow, this simple function of mortality was a complete mystery to her.

  She spent the rest of the day quiet, withdrawn, tense.

  Then, later that day at work.

  “Lily.”

  Liliane looked up from her desk, blinking as Mei leaned against the side of her chair, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

  “…What?”

  Mei tilted her head, scrutinizing her.

  “You look like you got rolled over by a car on the way here.”

  Liliane blinked again. “Thank you?”

  Mei ignored her sarcasm. “I’m serious. You’ve been all weird today. You keep wincing like someone’s stabbing you, and I’m pretty sure you’re about five seconds away from passing out.”

  Liliane tensed. Had it been that obvious?

  “…I’m fine.”

  Mei squinted. “Yeah, that’s what people say when they’re not fine. Spill it.”

  Liliane hesitated.

  She didn’t want to talk about it.

  She didn’t even know how to talk about it.

  But Mei was persistent—leaning in closer, eyebrows raised, fully expecting an answer.

  And after a long pause—

  Liliane finally muttered, “…I think I’m bleeding.”

  Mei froze.

  Liliane swallowed hard, feeling her face heat up in embarrassment.

  “I don’t— I mean, I’m not hurt. But it’s— it’s happening down there, and I don’t know—”

  Mei’s eyes widened as realization hit her like a truck.

  “Wait. WAIT. HOLD ON. LILY—”

  She grabbed her by the shoulders, staring at her in disbelief.

  “Are you seriously telling me you don’t know what a period is!?”

  Liliane felt her entire soul shrink into itself.

  She looked away, suddenly wishing the floor would swallow her whole.

  Mei’s grip tightened. “Lily. Lily. LILY.”

  Liliane groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Well, you’re going to.”

  Mei dragged a chair over, sat down beside her, and fully committed to the lesson.

  “Okay. First of all—oh my god. Second of all—Lily, how do you just not know this? Like, did no one ever explain it to you? Were you raised by, like, a convent of clueless nuns?!”

  Liliane groaned louder. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Too bad. You brought it up. We’re doing this.”

  Liliane sank deeper into her seat, dying internally.

  Mei sighed dramatically. “Alright. Fine. I’ll keep it short.”

  She pointed at Liliane’s stomach.

  “You’re not dying. That’s just your uterus doing its thing.”

  Liliane stared.

  “…Its thing?”

  Mei rolled her eyes. “Yes, its thing. You know, shedding its lining, hormones going crazy, making you miserable— the usual.”

  Liliane blinked slowly.

  She wasn’t sure if that explanation actually helped or just confused her further.

  Mei rubbed her temples. “Lily. My god. How are you like this?”

  Liliane, still mortified, muttered, “I don’t know…”

  Mei sighed, digging through her bag. “Here. Take these.”

  She handed her a small pack of painkillers.

  “Take two now, and I swear if you don’t have anything at home for this, I’m personally dragging you to a store.”

  Liliane hesitated, then took the medicine gratefully.

  “…Thank you.”

  Mei narrowed her eyes at her, still suspicious.

  “So, just to be clear—are you seriously telling me that no one ever explained this to you before?”

  Liliane tensed again.

  “I… I guess I never needed to know.”

  Mei stared at her for a long moment.

  Then she leaned back, crossing her arms.

  “…Huh.”

  Liliane didn’t like that "huh."

  It meant Mei was thinking.

  Too much.

  “…What?”

  Mei rested her chin in her palm, tapping her fingers against her cheek.

  “Nothing,” she said. “Just—y’know. Between this and everything else about you…”

  She glanced at Liliane sideways.

  “You’re kind of a mystery, you know that?”

  Liliane forced a smile.

  “…I guess so.”

  Mei watched her for a few more seconds, like she wanted to press further.

  But in the end—she let it go.

  For now.

  In a different office floor, the faint clacking of keyboards filling the air like an uninspired symphony. The glow of artificial lighting cast a dull sheen over the gray cubicles, making the passage of time feel almost stagnant. In this sea of corporate ennui, one thing remained certain—Hollow was still terrifyingly efficient at customer service.

  The phone on his desk rang. Hollow answered with the same energy one might use to read an instruction manual.

  "Customer Service. How can I help?"

  A nasally voice crackled through the receiver. "Uh, yeah, I ordered something last month and—"

  "Order number."

  "Huh? Oh, uh, let me check—"

  "I need the order number to continue."

  "Right, it’s 482019. So, I got it late and it was defective—"

  "Your order was delivered on the 12th. Returns must be made in seven days. You missed the deadline."

  "But it was broken when I got it! I should get a refund."

  "Did you report it when it arrived?"

  "Well, no, but—"

  "Then it is not eligible for return."

  "Okay, but isn’t there an exception for—"

  "Only for shipping errors or recalls. This is neither."

  "So I just lose my money?"

  "Yes. Or you can contact the manufacturer. They might help."

  A long pause. "This is ridiculous. Can I talk to your supervisor?"

  "They will say the same thing. Do you still want to?"

  Another pause. "...No."

  "Okay. Thank you for calling."

  Hollow ended the call, returning to his unnaturally neutral stance.

  Across from him, Felix had both hands on his face. "Dude. DUDE. What kind of service was that?"

  Hollow blinked. "Customer service… " said with dead seriousness.

  "Do you even have a heart!?" Felix put his hands in front of him. "You don’t even sound rude, just… empty.".

  He holds his hand over his chest while looking down "I guess I do, I can feel it beating… "

  Felix stood in silence with no way to answer to the brick wall sitting in front of him.

  The office’s usual hum of background noise was disrupted by a heavy stomp. Felix barely had time to register the shift in atmosphere before the storm arrived.

  A thick, broad-chested man with a permanent scowl barreled through the rows of cubicles, his cheap tie swinging with the force of his movements. Mr. Rourke, the department manager. A man whose entire management style revolved around breaking spirits and keeping employees in line through sheer intimidation.

  And right now? He was coming straight for Hollow.

  Felix winced and braced himself.

  Rourke slammed a thick folder down onto Hollow’s desk. “EXPLAIN THIS!”

  Hollow, utterly undisturbed, calmly looked at the folder before glancing up at Rourke. “Be more specific.”

  Felix’s soul left his body.

  “COMPLAINTS!” Rourke snapped, jabbing a stubby finger at the paperwork. “Multiple. About you! From customers, from staff! You’ve been accused of being—” he squinted at one of the forms, “—cold, unhelpful, and inhuman.”

  Hollow blinked. “Those are subjective terms.”

  Felix gripped his chair like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

  Rourke’s face reddened. “Damn right they are! Because you’re a damn robot! Do you even know how many complaints I’ve had to deal with because of you?”

  “No.”

  “SEVENTEEN!” Rourke slammed the paper down. “In one week! How is that even possible?!”

  “I answer many calls efficiently and in accordance with all company guidelines,” Hollow stated, his voice as steady as ever.

  Felix wanted to bury his face in his hands. He knew what was coming next.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “You call this customer service?!” Rourke demanded, flipping open one of the complaints. He cleared his throat and read aloud:

  ‘The representative refused to issue a refund and told me, and I quote, “Make better purchasing decisions.”’

  Rourke glared at Hollow.

  “That was correct,” Hollow responded.

  Felix audibly choked.

  Rourke was fuming. “Do you even know what customer satisfaction means?”

  Hollow tilted his head slightly. “A corporate metric based on survey results that have no tangible effect on company policy.”

  Felix let out a strangled laugh and covered it with a cough.

  Rourke twitched.

  “I AM THIS CLOSE TO FIRING YOU,” he growled, voice shaking with barely contained rage.

  Hollow blinked again. “Am I in violation of any policies?”

  The silence that followed was almost suffocating.

  Rourke’s teeth clenched. His eye twitched. His face turned an unnatural shade of red.

  Felix had never seen the man struggle to form a sentence before.

  Finally, with great effort, Rourke took a deep breath. He snatched up the folder, slammed it shut, and stabbed a finger at Hollow.

  “You,” he hissed, “are a problem.”

  Then, with the same boiling rage barely kept in check, he stormed out.

  As soon as the boss was out of sight, Felix collapsed against his chair, exhaling hard.

  “…Dude.” He turned to Hollow, completely drained. “You just broke him.”

  Hollow simply picked up the next customer call as if nothing had happened.

  Felix stared at the ceiling. “I swear they’re either gonna fire you or something…”

  Just then, an email notification popped up on Rourke’s computer screen in his office. The subject line: “RE: Your Termination Request”

  Rourke clicked on it, his eyes scanning the message.

  Rourke,

  After reviewing your request to terminate employee 5129 (Hollow), we find that he has not violated any company policies. His adherence to regulations exceeds expectations. His efficiency in enforcing company standards has been noted by upper management. Termination is not approved.

  - HR Department

  Rourke’s fingers curled into fists as his left eye twitched again.

  Later that day. In the breakroom which was as unremarkable as ever, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing above while the vending machine vibrated faintly from its constant operation. Hollow stood in front of it, his black eyes scanning the available drinks with the same cold efficiency he applied to customer service.

  He pressed a button. A can dropped. Transaction complete.

  Just as he reached down to retrieve it, a presence approached.

  Liliane.

  Hollow glanced up, noting her stiff posture. She wasn’t looking at him directly—her eyes darted to the side as if scanning for potential eavesdroppers. Her entire demeanor screamed paranoia.

  She shifted her weight awkwardly. Then, in a voice so low it almost didn’t register, she muttered, “After work.”

  Hollow blinked. “What?”

  Her fingers twitched at her sides. She took a subtle step closer, eyes still flicking around the breakroom like a spy in enemy territory. Then, even quieter, she repeated, “After work. Meet me.”

  Hollow processed her words without reacting. “For what?”

  She visibly tensed.

  “…Can’t say here.”

  He tilted his head slightly. “Why not?”

  She frowned, gaze flicking to the vending machine as if considering just abandoning this entire conversation. Then, with obvious reluctance, she muttered, “People might hear.”

  Hollow glanced around. No one was paying attention. Felix was across the room scrolling on his phone. A random coworker was microwaving something without a care in the world.

  Still, Liliane looked like she was smuggling state secrets.

  Hollow considered his options. She was clearly nervous. The way she refused to look directly at him was peculiar. But—he didn’t mind going along with her.

  And if she wanted something from him, he had no reason to refuse.

  “Okay,” he said simply.

  Liliane’s shoulders dropped slightly in relief. She nodded, still not making eye contact, and turned around too quickly, almost bumping into the vending machine before correcting herself.

  Hollow watched her leave, blinking once.

  That was odd.

  Not that he would understand why.

  The office emptied out slowly, coworkers filtering through the doors in sluggish waves. Hollow, as always, moved at his own pace, neither rushed nor delayed. His steps were silent, his presence almost ghost-like as he exited the building.

  He barely made it a few feet down the sidewalk before Liliane appeared at his side.

  She didn’t say anything at first. Just matched his pace.

  It wasn’t unusual for them to end up walking together—they lived in the same general direction—but this time, there was a clear weight in her presence. A tension that hadn’t been there before.

  Hollow glanced at her.

  Liliane glanced away.

  Silence stretched between them as they walked for a block, her hesitance almost tangible.

  Then, finally—she spoke.

  “…In the alley.”

  Hollow didn’t react immediately. He simply waited.

  Liliane hesitated, her fingers curling slightly at her sides. “You killed them.”

  Hollow blinked. “Yes.”

  She inhaled sharply through her nose, eyes fixed on the pavement ahead. “It wasn’t just that.” Her voice lowered slightly, cautious. “Your eyes… turned red.”

  This time, Hollow actually paused mid-step.

  Liliane kept walking.

  She didn’t look at him, but she continued, voice steady. “For that moment, you looked like an Abyssal again.”

  Hollow resumed walking, his mind turning over the statement. He hadn’t realized.

  Liliane exhaled slowly. “I know what I saw.” She finally glanced at him, her gaze firm. “It wasn’t normal.”

  Hollow considered this. He thought back to that moment—the rage, the clarity, the overwhelming certainty that he had to act.

  “…I see.”

  Liliane’s expression tightened. “You didn’t notice?”

  “No.”

  A beat of silence.

  Liliane studied him. Her usual caution was there, but beneath it—genuine curiosity. A need to understand.

  “…Then what did you feel?” she asked, voice quieter now.

  Hollow’s gaze remained steady, but internally, he searched for the right words.

  What had he felt?

  He didn’t understand emotions in the way others did—words like anger, fear, or hatred were just classifications. Hollow had never truly grasped them beyond their definitions.

  But in that moment, in the alley…

  His chest had tightened. His stomach had churned, something deep and primal twisting inside him. He hadn’t hesitated. He hadn’t questioned.

  He had simply moved.

  Hollow lifted a hand to the center of his chest, pressing it flat against the space beside his heart.

  “There was something inside me,” he said, voice still as neutral as ever. “Like a blaze. Deep.” His fingers pressed slightly against his own sternum, as if trying to locate the exact point where it had ignited.

  “I don’t know how to describe it,” he admitted. His stomach had churned, his breath had sharpened, and his entire body had felt like it was bracing for something inevitable. He didn’t know if this was anger, rage, or something entirely different—words meant nothing to him here.

  But the heat had been real. The moment he saw them—the scum trying to harm Lily—he knew.

  “I felt something overflowing from within,” he continued, his tone still factual, but there was something underneath it now. A trace of something else. “It gave me the strength to destroy them.”

  His fingers curled slightly against his chest, recalling the sheer force of his movements, the undeniable power behind them. It was stronger than it should’ve been. More precise. More brutal. More…

  More than human.

  He turned his head to Liliane. “You say my eyes were red.”

  She nodded, her expression cautious, as if waiting for his reaction.

  And for the first time since they had arrived in this world—something clicked.

  Hollow’s black eyes widened slightly. He turned his gaze downward, as if piecing something together for the first time.

  Superhuman strength. A visceral, instinctual response. Red eyes.

  Spirituality.

  A faint flicker of something sparked inside him. It was so small at first—like an ember buried under years of cold, but then—realization struck.

  His fingers twitched. His posture shifted.

  Then, for the first time since recognizing Liliane—since waking up in this world—Hollow felt something stir inside him.

  Excitement.

  Liliane didn’t even notice.

  Because she was too deep in her own thoughts, reeling from the implications.

  “…Then that means,” she murmured, her mind racing. “It’s not just you being strong. If your eyes turned red—if you displayed something supernatural…”

  She sucked in a breath, her voice dropping into something closer to a whisper.

  “…That means we might have our spiritual powers here, too.”

  Hollow said nothing.

  But if she had looked up—if she had really looked at him in that moment—she would’ve seen something almost imperceptible shift in his expression.

  Not cold.

  Not distant.

  Something else—the trace of anticipation.

  Hollow’s fingers finally relaxed against his chest as the realization settled.

  He turned his gaze forward, his expression unreadable—except for a tiny shift in his presence, something subtle yet undeniably there.

  “…Interesting.”

  Liliane barely registered his voice. She was still processing. If Hollow’s powers weren’t completely gone—if his eyes had turned red—what else could that mean?

  But before she could spiral any further, Hollow spoke again.

  “By the way… weren’t you paralyzed that night?” His tone was as neutral as ever, but now it carried a sense of purpose. He was working through something—analyzing.

  Liliane blinked, pulled from her thoughts. “Huh?”

  “In the alley.” He turned his head slightly, watching her. “You couldn’t move.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, the drug—”

  “Then how did you get on top of me?”

  Liliane froze.

  The question hit her like a strike to the chest.

  Hollow’s gaze remained steady. Unrelenting. As if he had just noticed something critical—a puzzle piece that had been missing.

  Liliane’s breath caught. She hadn’t questioned it before—had been too caught up in everything else to even think about it.

  But now…

  How?

  How had she moved?

  She had been completely limp, helpless, barely able to breathe—and yet, she had somehow forced herself up. Had somehow climbed onto Hollow’s back. Had somehow stopped him.

  Liliane’s hands tightened at her sides.

  Hollow watched her reaction carefully.

  His voice, always calm, came again. “…Lily.”

  She swallowed.

  Had she… used something too?

  Liliane furrowed her brows, trying to piece together her own experience. She had been paralyzed. She shouldn't have been able to move. And yet… she had.

  “…Now that I think about it,” she said, her voice quieter, uncertain. “When I moved to stop you, I felt… something.”

  Hollow turned his head slightly, listening.

  Liliane touched her chest, right in the center. “It wasn’t just my body fighting the paralysis. There was… warmth. Deep inside. Like something pushing me forward.”

  Hollow’s gaze narrowed.

  “I don’t know how else to explain it,” she continued, shaking her head. “But it wasn’t normal.”

  Silence.

  Then—a flicker of something in Hollow’s expression.

  “…That seems to confirm what I think.” His voice, still neutral, carried an undeniable certainty. “If that was real—then I need to test it.”

  Liliane’s stomach tightened. “Test what, exactly?”

  Hollow turned his gaze forward again, stepping toward the street. “If it’s still there.”

  Liliane stiffened. “Where are you going?”

  “The park.”

  Her breath caught.

  “The same park?” she asked, voice sharpening.

  “Yes.”

  Liliane felt her pulse quicken. She gritted her teeth. “Hollow, the monster—whatever that thing was—it could still be there.”

  Hollow’s steps didn’t falter. “That’s what I’m looking for.”

  Liliane stared at him. For a moment, she thought about letting him go.

  But then a more dangerous thought surfaced.

  What if he actually finds it?

  And more importantly—

  What if he wins?

  If Hollow truly had access to his powers again, and if he figured out how to use them tonight—

  Liliane shuddered.

  She couldn’t let that happen.

  But when she snapped out of her thoughts, Hollow was already ahead.

  Her eyes widened.

  “Hey—!” She rushed forward. “Hollow! Wait!”

  He didn’t stop.

  Liliane picked up speed. “You could’ve at least asked if I was coming!”

  Hollow side glanced at her.

  “You’re doing so anyways.”

  Liliane groaned.

  This was going to be a long night.

  The night air felt colder here. Whether it was just the crispness of the wind or the lingering weight of memory, Liliane couldn’t tell.

  She stopped at the entrance of the park, staring at the dimly lit paths stretching into the distance. This place.

  It had only been a couple of weeks ago. The memory was clear, burned into her mind—the monstrous figure, the sheer hopelessness of the moment, and the way Hollow had moved without hesitation, saving her before she even realized she needed saving.

  Even before that, just days ago, she had felt her own weakness in the alley ambush. Her body had been fragile, easily overpowered. That helplessness still lingered in her chest, heavy and unshakable.

  And yet—here they were again.

  Liliane exhaled sharply, crossing her arms. She was uneasy—Hollow wasn’t.

  She glanced at him, standing there, his posture calm, his expression unreadable as always. No doubt. No fear. As if failure simply wasn’t an option.

  “…You’re sure about this?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

  “Yes.”

  Liliane sighed. Of course.

  “I mean, I get what you’re trying to do,” she continued, trying to ease her nerves by talking, “but we don’t even know if that thing is still here.”

  “Then I’ll find out.”

  Liliane bit her lip. “And what if it is?”

  Hollow tilted his head slightly. “Then I’ll handle it.”

  That lack of hesitation.

  Liliane felt a chill run through her. He was so… certain. As if the possibility of losing simply didn’t exist.

  She rubbed her arms, remembering.

  He bled here.

  She had treated his wounds with her own hands, a stark reminder that they were human now. That no matter what they had been before—this world was different.

  And yet—Hollow stood there, unshaken.

  Liliane sighed again, shaking her head. “You really don’t consider the idea of failure, do you?”

  Hollow glanced at her. “No.”

  A beat of silence.

  Liliane groaned. “I hate that answer.”

  Hollow started walking.

  Liliane exhaled sharply before following him in.