Leonardo hesitated at the entrance of the room, the air thick with an unsettling warmth that seemed to radiate from everywhere.

  He could feel the temperature shift just as he stood in the doorway. It was as if the room itself was alive, pulsing with Adalaide's presence and power.

  "Is she still using her skill?" he wondered aloud, noting the hazy heat waves that rippled through the room.

  His voice was barely above a whisper, almost drowned by the oppressive silence. With slow, measured steps, he began walking toward her.

  "Alright, just keep it simple," Leonardo muttered to himself, rehearsing the lines in his head.

  "Open with a hello, then tell her you were wrong. Be honest, like how you were wrong about Ryuji... She'll believe it. She has to." The words were meant to comfort him, but they fell flat against his rising anxiety.

  He reached the door and took a deep breath, his hand resting on the cool brass handle. He pushed it open slowly, stepping inside.

  "Hello, ma'am—"

  "oh."

  He froze mid-sentence. His words trailed off as his eyes adjusted to the scene before him.

  The room was a stark contrast to the mansion's opulent corridors. It was covered, floor to ceiling, with intricate pyramids etched into the walls, each one overlapping the next in a chaotic jumble of geometry.

  The sheer number of shapes was overwhelming, and he couldn't help but wonder how she had managed to reach such heights.

  The faint glow of Rasvian energy still lingered on the freshly inscribed marks, a testament to her fervent focus.

  Leonardo's gaze shifted to the bed. Adalaide lay sprawled across it, her frame slightly trembling.

  She was crying softly, her tears soaking the fabric beneath her. But it wasn't the quiet sobs or the tangled mess of her hair that made Leonardo's breath hitch—it was the sword lying against the far wall, gleaming menacingly in the low light.

  Its presence sent a cold shiver through him, a reminder of how volatile the situation truly was.

  His eyes then landed on two plush dolls perched on the floor beside her, their lifelike resemblance to Anna and Elara striking.

  They were dressed meticulously, down to the tiniest details in their embroidered gowns. Leonardo bent down to pick one up, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric.

  "Is this Anna?" he asked crouching, holding the doll up as he turned his gaze upwards Adalaide. She had shifted slightly, her teary eyes now locked onto him, her expression blank yet intense.

  Not again, Leonardo thought, feeling the familiar weight of her scrutiny settle on his shoulders.

  "What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice sharp, cutting through the heavy air.

  It was as if she hadn't been crying moments before, her demeanor now cold and composed, the tears having vanished without a trace.

  Leonardo blinked, momentarily disoriented by the rapid shift in her mood. What just happened?

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  "Isn't Anna so cute?" she cooed, snatching the doll from his hands with a sudden burst of energy.

  She examined it closely, her fingers straightening the tiny fabric folds. "I need to fix Elara's dress, though. It's not quite right." She yanked the second doll from his grasp, her focus now entirely on the small figures.

  Leonardo hesitated, his mind racing to catch up with her erratic behavior. "I... I came to tell you about your husband," he said, his voice faltering slightly under the weight of his own lie.

  He took a breath, ready to confess, but Adalaide's attention had already drifted elsewhere. She pulled him to the ground beside her, her movements jittery, almost manic.

  "I made pyramids, look! i read it from a book," she exclaimed, pointing to the nearest wall where a series of jagged lines marked her recent handiwork.

  "It's cone-like. I read about it in a book—it's fun!" Her excitement bubbled over, her fingers tracing the lines she had drawn with such fervor.

  "And there's another one that can be made in two lines… I think." She trailed off, her brow furrowing in concentration.

  Leonardo watched her, stunned by the drastic shift in her demeanor. What is going on? he thought, bewildered by the sudden, almost childlike enthusiasm she displayed. Just moments ago, she had been crying, her grief palpable.

  Now, she seemed entirely engrossed in the shapes she was drawing, her mind elsewhere.

  "Square pyramid, triangular pyramid, pentagonal pyramid, stepped pyramid... That's the one I drew! You know what I'll try now?" She paused, her fingers twitching with anticipation.

  "Hexagonal and octagonal, yes, those ones," she declared, her eyes bright with a fervor that was almost unsettling.

  A faint red glow began to form on her fingertips, Rasvian energy swirling as she meticulously etched each line, her concentration unbroken.

  Leonardo watched Adalaide from his crouched position, his eyes following the swift, erratic movements of her hands as she etched shapes into the wall with the relentless precision of someone obsessed.

  He had just told her that three people had died—though in truth, it was a lie involving only one.

  Yet, her reaction was as detached as if he'd merely mentioned the weather. This was how she responded to death? Even when it involved her own husband, whom she had acted as though she knew deeply?

  Adalaide's fingers flared with her usual red hue, carving symbols into the stone like an artist painting her masterpiece.

  She mumbled to herself, her voice a singsong melody of madness. "Hexagonal, pentagonal—they're similar, see? But hexagonal has six sides at the base!" She giggled, as if sharing a delightful secret with herself. "Fun, isn't it?"

  Leonardo could feel his own anxiety mounting, the erratic nature of her behavior unnerving him more than he cared to admit.

  He took a breath, trying to steady himself. "Can you tell me your skill set?" he asked, the question leaving his lips with a cautious hesitation.

  Adalaide stopped, turning her head sharply to meet his gaze. The shift in her demeanor was instantaneous—her cheerful expression fading into one of grim seriousness. "Sure," she replied, her voice now low and measured, a stark contrast to her earlier demeanor.

  Leonardo watched her closely, unease prickling at his skin. Is she changing personalities on a whim? How does she switch from crying to happy to serious so quickly? He felt a chill run down his spine as she began to list her skills, her tone devoid of the erratic energy she had displayed just moments before.

  "It's cool but… Here." She held up her hand, and the familiar text appeared in front of Leonardo, the information laid out plainly.

  Name: Adalaide de Meaux

  Age: 43

  Story Skill: Wizard

  Attachment Skill: Heat Conjuration

  Unwritten Skill: Priest

  Flame Manipulation

  Title Skill: N/A

  Rasvian Control Rank: Ascendant

  Leonardo scanned the information, his brows furrowing. "Wizard again? I thought Anna said they were rare," he mused aloud, the words slipping out before he could stop himself.

  Adalaide tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. "It's funny, you know," she said, her voice taking on a distant quality.

  "The sides of a hexagonal pyramid—they stay that way. Each of those sides could be a straight line or a shape, yet it's just called hexagonal.

  But maybe, if the person viewing them reaches a new level of understanding, the sides will receive the recognition they deserve, adding variation, adding diversity, you know?" Her eyes bore into Leonardo's, an eerie intensity behind them that made him uneasy.

  "This woman is genuinely insane," Leonardo thought, though he couldn't help but acknowledge the odd wisdom in her analogy. "Still a good analogy," he muttered under his breath, pushing himself to his feet. He took a step back, his eyes still fixed on Adalaide as she returned to her drawing, her focus unbroken.

  Leonardo stood there for a moment longer, watching as she continued to carve her pyramids into the walls.

  He knew he needed to leave, but not before telling her the real truth.