Pushing open that heavy containment-unit door once again—the one gleaming with a cold metallic sheen—the hinges let out a faint creak, barely audible.
The scene inside was no different from what he had seen last time.
That strange circular portal, emitting a soft yet unstable halo of light, still floated quietly at the very center of the unit, as if it had existed there since time immemorial.
But this time, the air was filled with nothing but dead silence.
The gentle female voice that had abruptly echoed in his mind last time did not appear.
X stood at the doorway, his gaze fixed firmly on the portal before him.
Its glow brightened and dimmed intermittently, its edges faintly rippling—like the surface of a lake stirred by a breeze, reflecting glimmers of some unknown world.
"Alright…"
X murmured to himself.
It was less an act of self-encouragement, and more the resolution of a decision.
"Since you keep appearing in my dreams again and again, then let me see it for myself."
"Let me see what's really on the other side of this door."
His eyes sharpened. No more hesitation.
X stepped forward and extended his right hand. His fingertips trembled ever so slightly, but in the end, he pressed them firmly against that glowing field of light—an energy barrier that looked intangible, yet resisted his touch with a strange, viscous sensation.
—
The instant his fingers made contact with the portal, light exploded across his vision—expanding, fracturing, twisting—like the entire world had been thrown into a rapidly spinning kaleidoscope.
Every color in his sight blurred, stretched, and warped into incomprehensible abstract patterns.
A blinding white radiance surged over X like a tidal wave. He instinctively shut his eyes tight, feeling himself yanked forward by some unseen force, dragged through a narrow, twisted passage.
The overwhelming sense of weightlessness and vertigo lasted only a moment—then vanished abruptly.
When X felt solid ground beneath his feet again and the searing light gradually faded, he cautiously opened his eyes once more.
The scene before him had changed beyond recognition.
He still seemed to be inside some kind of containment unit—but its structure and atmosphere were completely different from before.
The surrounding walls were riddled with massive cracks and holes, weathered and broken, as if they had been eroded by countless years of decay.
The air was thick with dust and the scent of rotting wood, along with a suffocating, eternal stillness.
Through the breaches in the walls, he could even clearly see the outside—
Enormous pale-white tree branches, unimaginably vast, rose up around the entire facility. Like the bones of giants from ancient myth, they loomed silently in the background of this space, oppressive and mute.
Beyond the ruin, there were many objects here that X had never seen in any company records or surveillance feeds.
Shattered stone statues.
Faded fragments of murals.
Broken prayer benches.
All of them carried a strong atmosphere reminiscent of some ancient religion, filling the space with a desolate yet sacred aura—like the ruins of a monastery abandoned for centuries.
And at the very center of this monastery-like ruin, there was something that captured all of X 's attention—
A lone, old-fashioned wooden chair stood there.
And seated upon it was a figure.
It was a white-haired woman.
Her hair, pure and soft like freshly fallen snow, draped down over her shoulders. She wore a slightly worn but neatly kept nun's habit, her hands folded on her lap as she held a small, exquisitely crafted cross.
Most striking of all was the crown upon her head—a simple circlet woven from withered thorns.
At this moment, her eyes were closed, her expression peaceful and serene, as if she were sunk into a deep sleep. Against the backdrop of ruin, she formed a strange, tragic beauty.
As though she had already known he would come, the white-haired woman showed no reaction to X 's intrusion.
Slowly, she opened her eyes—
They were a pair of golden eyes, pure and crystalline, much like Angela's.
Yet the emotions contained within them were deeper. More… compassionate.
"You're here."
She looked at X , the corners of her lips lifting into a faint, gentle smile, as though she had been waiting for him for a very long time.
"You know me?"
X involuntarily took half a step back, his heart filled with shock and caution.
There was nothing in his memory related to her—yet her tone sounded like she was greeting an old acquaintance long separated.
"Mhm."
She nodded lightly, her golden eyes resting calmly on X , as though they could see straight through him.
"I felt your presence here last time."
"Though it was very faint then… now that I see you with my own eyes, I can be certain."
"The one who lingered briefly outside the door yesterday, carrying confusion and curiosity—that was you."
"Yesterday…?"
X recalled the words he had heard at the doorway the day before, and how he had ultimately chosen to retreat.
"I really was… outside this containment unit for a while yesterday. I heard your voice…"
His gaze carefully examined the woman before him, trying to match her with the vague Abnormality image in his memory.
White hair.
Nun's attire.
Crown of thorns.
A cross.
All of it seemed to point toward a single answer.
"So…"
X asked tentatively,
"You really are Abnormality O-03-03—One Sin and Hundreds of Good Deeds?"
"'One Sin and Hundreds of Good Deeds'…?"
She murmured the name softly, as if tasting an unfamiliar label—or as if it stirred some distant memory.
"So that's what the children who take care of me… the children outside during the day… call me…"
She didn't answer his question immediately.
Instead, she raised her head and met X 's gaze again with those clear golden eyes, her expression filled with a transcendent calm and acceptance.
She smiled faintly, then spoke:
"Since that is how you all address me, then I am what you call—One Sin and Hundreds of Good Deeds."
"Haa…"
Seeing her admit her identity so openly, X felt the taut string in his chest finally loosen just a little.
It seemed that even in this so-called "Inner Lobotomy Corporation," the beings housed within the containment units were still the same Abnormalities recorded in the "outer" world.
At the very least, the core individuals were the same.
More importantly, in this strange place, he seemed able to communicate with Abnormalities far more directly—truly converse with them.
This might be an excellent opportunity to understand their essence more deeply.
Perhaps he could even attempt more aggressive interactions, to obtain deeper layers of information?
Or even… like the employees, gradually strengthen his own parameters through interaction with Abnormalities?
However—
Just as one question was answered and X felt a fleeting sense of relief, another, colder and far more severe question suddenly clenched his heart.
If…
If everything here was this real—if even the Abnormalities could exist and communicate with him in such tangible form—
Then were the rules of this world just as real?
If he were injured in this so-called "inner world"…
In this Abnormality's "domain"…
Or even killed—
What would happen to him?
Would he wake up unharmed, just like from a dream?
Or would he… remain here forever?