Zara exhaled deeply, shattering the tense silence as she made her way toward an empty seat. Scott and Slim exchanged glances, both unsure of what to say to the feline brawler. Slim, a moment later, walked towards the desk and perched on it, facing Zara.

"Zara," he spoke softly. "As much as I hate to admit it, could you share what happened? I don't intend to change my stance, but I can't feign indifference like Scott." Slim paused, acknowledging Scott with a nod. "No offense, buddy." He turned back to Zara. "If it's too painful..."

Zara raised her hand, interrupting the necromancer, and sighed. "You deserve to know." She took a deep breath, leaning forward, her beautiful hair partially obscuring her face as she gathered her thoughts.

As Zara began to speak, her voice carried the weight of suppressed emotions. "Honestly, I might be the only one who sees the Varkham Hound as an enemy. To most, he's an enigmatic figure, a hero amongst heroes. But to me, he's nothing more than a bloodthirsty slayer," she confessed, bitterness lacing her words.

Intrigued, Slim asked, "Why do others see him as a hero?"

Zara's gaze drifted to a distant memory, her eyes clouded with a mix of pain and anger. "I come from a place called Varkham, once a beautiful and prosperous nation ruled by felines," she began. "But its prosperity came at the cost of enslaving other races, a facade only known to the citizens and victims."

Scott and Slim exchanged glances, their interest deepening. Zara continued, "The canines, the most brutally oppressed, were the first to rise against the inhumane regime, and a bloody revolution engulfed the land." Zara paused again, her words hanging heavily in the air, painting a vivid picture of a shattered paradise. The room seemed to grow colder as Scott and Slim's imaginations wandered.

"I wouldn't have any grievances with the insurrectionists if they had only targeted their oppressors, but they slaughtered felines who wanted nothing to do with Varkham's ruling families too."

Zara's voice wavered as her words strained through tears. "My siblings and I were raised in an orphanage. We lived with our adopted mother, a kind soul who showed us love and compassion, far away on the outskirts of Varkham."

Zara's voice trembled as she recounted the horrors of that fateful day. "They descended upon our small village in numbers, their hearts filled with vengeance and bloodthirstiness. Despite the cries and pleas, they murdered everyone in cold blood." Zara paused again, sobbing even harder as she gripped the padded armrest.

"I... I was a coward who pretended to be dead by bathing myself in the blood of my siblings." The weight of Zara's pain was palpable, filling the elegant office with an air of despair. "I had to hold my breath while crawling through the corpses of everyone I had ever held dear, and those ruthless bastards didn’t stop at that. They looted and burned everything with an ounce of life to the ground."

Silence hung heavily in the room, broken only by Zara's quiet sobs. She wiped away her tears, her voice filled with determination as she raised her gaze to meet her companions. "The Varkham Hound may have justification for his actions against the oppressive felines, but I will never forgive him for robbing my siblings of their lives. Words can’t describe how much we suffered before we found a place we could call home, yet... yet they took it away from us."

Slim stepped forward; his voice gentle yet resolute. "Zara, I understand your desire for vengeance. I promise you; I will stand by your side in this fight. But remember, the path of revenge is treacherous and may not lead to the solace you seek."

Zara turned to Slim, her eyes filled with anger. "And what would you have me do? Forgive the one who destroyed my family?"

"No, please don’t misunderstand me. Forgiving the Varkham Hound is an option, but forgiving yourself is a necessity." Slim's voice carried a soothing tone, his words cutting through Zara's anger like a balm for her wounded soul.

"You carry the burden of blame upon your shoulders, as if it is your responsibility to avenge your lost family. But, my dear leader, it is not your fault. You were but a survivor, an innocent caught in the crossfire of a violent revolution," Slim explained, his voice gentle yet firm.

Zara's eyes welled up with fresh tears, her anger slowly giving way to confusion. She had never considered that forgiving herself could be an option, that she could release the heavy chains of guilt that bound her.

Slim continued, his words weaving a tapestry of wisdom. "Revenge is a cycle that consumes the heart and soul. It promises satisfaction but only delivers emptiness. I might not remember my origins, but I have witnessed countless souls fall prey to its allure, only to be left hollow and broken in the end."

Scott nodded in agreement; his eyes filled with compassion. "Zara, revenge may provide temporary respite, but it will not heal the wounds that run deep within you. It will not bring back your loved ones or undo the pain you have endured. True healing lies in finding your own path to happiness."

The eldritch knight took a step forward. "However, regardless of which path you embark on, you can count on me to have your back."

Zara's gaze alternated between Scott and Slim, the conflict within her evident on her face. She hungered for justice, for closure, yet the words of her companions bore an undeniable truth she couldn't dismiss.

Slim stepped forward, his skeletal hand extending to gently touch Zara's quivering shoulder. “Should you choose the path of seeking justice against the Varkham Hound, I will stand by your side. However, consider exploring avenues that might bring you genuine happiness and allow you to honor the memory of your lost family.”

“This is unfair,” Zara sobbed inwardly, her grip tightening even further. “What purpose does my life serve if I can't get justice?”

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“Life, inherently unfair to all, allows the living to forge their own happiness,” Slim slowly wiped away Zara’s tears with a handkerchief from his breast pocket. “Reflect on this: Would your family want you to spend your days relentlessly pursuing their murderer?”

The spacious office held its breath as Zara pondered Slim’s words. Her heart, laden with grief and rage, clamored for revenge. Yet, within, a seed of doubt sprouted—a glimmer of hope that perhaps there was an alternative.

Finally, Zara sighed, her tears subsiding, replaced by newfound resolve. “You both offer perspectives I've never considered. The pain I bear won't be healed solely through vengeance. I'll seek justice for my family, but I'll also strive to build a future they would have desired—a future brimming with love, joy, and my own pursuit of happiness.”

Scott and Slim exchanged glances, a mutual understanding passing between them. Zara had made her decision, and they had no intention of pressuring her to reconsider.

Another bout of silence enveloped the room; Slim stood steadfastly by Zara’s side, consoling the brawler, while Scott maintained his position, his sharp gaze shifting between the two.

No wonder her madness stat was that high. I can’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to be in her shoes. Are we hypocrites by telling her revenge would solve nothing? Scott involuntarily recalled his old course-mates and what they did to him. I guess I might be a hypocrite after all.

“Buddy, what’s going to happen to Zara when we leave? Is she going to be awake?” Slim suddenly asked.

“I’m not certain yet,” Scott whispered. “Considering the fact that we’re being watched. Zara waking up ahead of schedule might pique the interest of whoever that is.”

The necromancer frowned, unable to refute Scott’s words. “What are we going to do then?”

“Should I pretend to be asleep if I’m awake?” Zara suggested, her swollen eyes shifting between Scott and Slim.

“I doubt something like that will fool them, but it’s worth a shot.” Scott then focused on Slim. “Did you read anything related to her case in the rule book?”

“No, nothing in particular.” Slim pondered for a moment before continuing, “I think there’s no point pretending she’s asleep. We need to gather as much information as soon as possible; especially if we’re keeping to the deadline.”

The skeleton retrieved a fresh pair of handkerchief from his other breast pocket, handing it over to Zara while disposing of the other. “The rules explicitly stated no outside interference will be tolerated; I want to imagine that includes the examiners, lesser gods, and gods, too. I believe our primary concern should be finding out everything related to the full moon, or what do you guys think?”

“I’ll agree with anything you guys decide,” Zara said softly as she cleaned the corners of her eyes.

Scott, on the other hand, remained silent. His clear eyes shifted between Slim and Zara. Let’s see what’s happening in the office, first. I don’t even know how much time has gone by.

Scott closed his eyes, and quickly opened them once more; this time, however, he stood next to Slim who still held his hand while also locking hands with Zara. The blackened tendrils covered the head of his companions, pulsating ever so slightly like a living creature.

Nothing seems to be out of place, and it doesn’t look like we have been in there for too long. It seems time flows at a different rate in there, Scott thought to himself as his gaze lingered on the office’s exit.

He turned toward the window behind Vaeril’s desk, and his limpid eyes focused on an abominable creature. Unseen to the naked eyes, dozens of protruding eyes leaned against the window, observing the immobile trio in the office.

What the fuck is that thing? What is it trying to do? Scott noticed one eye blinking furiously, as if trying to use its sharpened eyelids to open the window. It froze as soon as it noticed Scott staring in its direction.

I can’t let it suspect I can see it. That will surely spell trouble for us. Without alarming the creature, Scott slowly observed the rest of the office as if searching for something. His gaze shifted from the window to the aluminum cabinets a few meters away, before lingering on the paintings above the window frame, then Scott focused on the room’s entrance once more, before staring at Zara and Slim.

“It doesn’t look like anyone has been here. That’s good,” he muttered aloud. Then, he closed his eyes, and he reappeared in the dream space with Zara and Slim unaware of what lurked in the office, and they hadn’t detected his absence, either.

“I also think it’s pointless pretending to be awake; after all, the slightest mistake on our paths will surely give it away,” Scott said. “Like Slim said, the earlier we gather the necessary information, the better for us.”

“So, buddy, how do we get back to the real world? Do we need to say some weird mantra or do some weird dance?” Slim chuckled.

Scott silently shook his head before clicking his fingers. Instantly, Slim disappeared from the office. Wordlessly, Scott approached Zara. “Don’t take offense to Slim’s words, he only said what he did because he cares about you.”

“I know,” Zara said softly.

“You’re going to kill him, right?” Scott locked gazes with the brawler, and neither shared a word.

The eldritch knight suddenly sighed. “Let us know when you’re ready.”

“Do you think I’ll regret it?” Zara asked softly, as she lowered her head.

Scott advanced, halting before the cat girl. With care, he slid his right hand beneath her chin, angling her face upward. “Maybe or maybe not,” he murmured. “You must uncover the purpose of your existence. Your only drive until now has been the pursuit and elimination of your enemy. What will you do once that's accomplished?”

Zara dodged Scott’s gaze while mumbling incoherent words. The eldritch knight lowered his hand, and he continued. “Then again, you shouldn’t take my words to heart. I don’t have the qualifications to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do.”

Scott took a step, but Zara’s outstretched hand grabbed his hand. “Thank you,” she muttered, her voice uncharacteristically low. “I’m glad you and Slim are with me. Regardless of what happens, I will never forget our time together.”

The cat girl paused for a moment, before asking, “Why are you climbing the tower?”

“I’m searching for answers.”

“For what?” Zara probed further.

Scott sighed deeply while shaking his head. “If Slim and I were to suddenly beat you to barely an inch of your life, how would that make you feel?”

“What?!” Zara jolted, unable to understand why Scott asked such a question. “I’d feel betrayed and confused among other emotions; naturally, I’d also want to know why you guys would do that to me.”

“What if we said it’s because of something you did in the future? How would that make you feel then?”

Zara tilted her head backward, releasing her grip on Scott's arm. “That doesn't make any sense,” she whispered, her thoughts scattered. “While it's entirely possible I might deserve it, I don't think I should suffer for sins I haven't committed or may never commit,” Zara added after a brief pause.

“What’s this about?” She probed further, but Scott simply reached for her jaw as he said, “I’ll help you control your bloodlust. Just try your best not to physically attack anyone.”

“Thank you, but your…” Scott clapped twice, and the space shattered. Instantly, the hound extermination crew woke up in the spacious office; Zara and Slim observing their surroundings in a daze.

Several blackened tendrils concentrated below Zara’s left eye, forming a long scar racing down her face to her neck. However, only Scott could see the pulsating tendrils. A few also lingered on Slim’s skull, and like Zara’s, they were not tangible or visible to the naked eyes.

“Buddy, are we really back?” Slim muttered in a daze.

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