The lobby was as pristine and untouched as the surface of an ice rink.

  Suddenly, I was struck by a thought—one that felt oddly plausible.

  I began to cross the lobby with the natural stride of someone who belonged there. Tucked away behind a partition that looked like part of the wall was a single elevator. As if drawn by an invisible force, I stepped inside.

  I lightly touched the LED panel that served as the floor indicator. The screen was mostly blocked out, except for a single floor at the very top: Royal Tier.

  "Where could this be?"

  After a cautious touch, the elevator ascended with startling speed and soon came to a halt.

  As the doors opened, I found myself looking directly into an expansive, open living room. The air was fragrant and the lighting dim and inviting—it was a home so warm that one would never want to leave.

  Taking a leap of courage, I stepped further inside and saw a familiar painting hanging on the wall.

  It was the painting of a small pouch resting on a chair in front of a round mirror. It was one of the two paintings I had seen in Dr. O's office.

  Seeing it there, I felt myself being pulled back to a point on that long, broken line of my memory.

  "Why... why is this painting here?"

  "Who... who are you...?"

  I heard the presence of someone else and a strange voice.

  "..! Oh—I'm so sorry."

  A sudden wave of fear washed over me for having broken a taboo. I turned and fled, rushing back into the elevator and descending immediately.

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  It was only for a split second, but her image was burned into my mind.

  Skin that seemed to have been kissed by the sun, and hair falling in rich, voluminous waves. Yet, behind that vibrant vitality, her eyes held a melancholy as deep as the deep sea.

  As the elevator doors opened back in the lobby, I was met by a middle-aged man standing there, dressed in a matte navy suit.

  He had platinum hair and eyes as blue as a sheet of ice. Though I had no idea who he was, I felt it instinctively. This man was the one who controlled the very air of this place.

  My heart hammered against my ribs in fear, but I walked out across the lobby with as much composure as I could muster, acting as if nothing had happened.

  I didn't look back, but I could feel his gaze hanging onto my heels—an sensation even more intense than facing him head-on, despite his silence.

  From a distance, I saw a man hurrying toward me, looking flustered.

  "Are you out of your mind...?! Number 3?"

  "I told you not to come through here!"

  A man in a uniform appeared out of nowhere and began to restrain me in a panic.

  "I'm Unit T! Unit T! I'm in charge of lobby management and deliveries... You heard about me from Lee downstairs, didn't you?"

  "...Ah, yes. I'm sorry..."

  "Go down, hurry! You're going to cause some real trouble!"

  I headed back down to the sunken area and passed through the two doors to my room.

  The other men and women in uniforms were gathered, engaged in what sounded like a heated argument. They looked excited, passing around a box filled with various items.

  A person called Unit J was the loudest of the bunch.

  "Look at this. This pouch is the same as the one in that painting, isn't it?"

  "I don't know the details, but this pouch must be incredibly valuable."

  "I'm taking it! It's mine!"

  "Hey, Unit J. You got what you wanted last time, so this pouch is mine!"

  The pouch they were holding was identical to the one containing my Solet.

  It was a pouch woven from silk so thin its thickness was impossible to gauge. When full of Solet, it boasted a smooth, curved silhouette like it was cradling a massive pearl.

  But when the contents were gone, that thin silk lost its support and crumpled pitifully.

  The mysteries scattered throughout this place and the feeling that I was not entirely disconnected from it felt somewhat suffocating, yet I felt a sense that these clues were leading me somewhere.

  These people didn't seem to know the true nature of the powder inside. They simply knew, instinctively, that it was a symbol of 'privilege' they could never possess, and they craved it.

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