Typety type. "If you went out and back in did it pick up new mouthpieces or reuse old ones?"

"It didn't reuse rescuees' mouthpieces—those almost always go away as soon as I shield them—but my personal ones were persistent."

"Did you have to avoid going out while there were any around so people wouldn't notice them?"

"Occasionally, but they mostly melt away as soon as you're out. The area surrounding the portal is deserted most of the time," except for whatever post-apocalyptic hellscape Nightmare is having fun depicting on any given day.

"...how could you tell without stepping out if it was going to melt or not?"

"I couldn't. I gambled. Nightmare by and large doesn't let different teams meet up if it can avoid it so that it always feels like you're completely alone. It can't always do that, since it can't see shielded teams very well, but my being unshielded probably made me easy to manage. So I'd get to the portal, verify that there weren't other teams nearby, and step outside."

"Do you think there may've been any pattern to which victims it let you find as opposed to those other teams got?"

"It's not impossible but it went over my head if so. I... didn't really pay attention. I didn't care about any of them, not under all of that backlash."

"Did its behavior seem affected at all by how much backlash you were under?"

"...it tried less hard when I was more backlashed. Because I cared less about things but also because I... could just do my own self-tormenting without its help. It mentioned that, once, that I make its job too easy because it doesn't even need to be around for me to tell myself the things it wants to tell me."

"...wow, do you remember anything closer to an exact quote on that by any chance?"

"Maybe. It was... wearing Lee Tae-gun's face, that time, it said something about... What's even the point of me going into it if I can't even have fun while I'm doing it—it didn't break kayfabe, it kept pretending to be him, so he phrased it as, I must be making Nightmare's job so easy with how I make my own nightmares in my head at home and then just bring them into the dungeon with me ready-made to be instantiated and presented to me on a silver platter.

"Ah, right, and there was also a dead body of his next to the one who was talking, looking like—I'm not sure if that even makes sense, but it was looking like what I imagined he'd look like if he died of chronic backlash. Gaunt, pale, hair in clumps, bloody sores..."

"This was... after you broke up?"

"Yes. Two years after he was rescued."

"Was there any notable variance in the amount of time it took to present you with constructs?"

Haru can actually keep going on in this Yelling About Basic Research vein for a long time if Jaeha will tolerate it, but eventually he'll propose that it might be bedtime.

Yeah, sure. He can answer the questions, and most of them don't even hurt, except for the ones that do.

He's not sure how well he's going to sleep tonight. He thinks he might dream of Tae-gun dying, again. You'd think that'd get old, but somehow it hasn't, yet.

Well, they've got a ten-hour pill for him that'll keep him out cold, small mercies.

Ah, he didn't realise Traceless meant to start that tonight. Yes, small mercies, he supposes.

Well, they don't have to, but they might as well.

It doesn't really matter.

If it doesn't trade off against being humane and constructive, efficiency shall rule the day. Haru goes through his checklist and prepares to sleep the night away on Jaeha's insensate form.

Ugh.

Ten hours later:

Haru is making omelettes.

Yaaaaay.

"Good morning."

"Morning. Peppers and cheese work for you?"