Under the pitch-black veil of night, the rain continued to pour down in torrential sheets. Heavy, freezing raindrops lashed directly against his face, whipping at the fragile body of Lucien, who was clad in nothing but a flimsy jacket. He trudged aimlessly along the deserted asphalt road. The downpour washed away the bloodstains soaking his trouser legs, only to reveal the dark crimson cuts on his knees, sending waves of bone-deep, agonizing pain through him.
The surrounding scenery blurred into a hazy wash, with only the dim, flickering glow of the streetlamps casting a desolate and pitiful shadow over him.
[Host...] The mechanical voice of 000 echoed within his mind, seemingly carrying a hint of hesitation: [Does it hurt?]
