"People love differently." Soren muttered. And then another question came. "What's my definition of love?"

Kaya nodded again. "That's a question you'll have to answer on your own.

Nevertheless, the fact still remains that as humans, we have a natural condescending nature.

It's easy to judge people based on our values, our morals, and our environment. But all it does is bring trouble to us—it messes with our feelings.

When it comes to love, the moment you accept people for who they are, it becomes easier on your own heart."

With those words Kaya relaxed back into her seat, feeling very proud and smug about the lesson she had just delivered.

"See." She pointed out. "You feel better already, don't you?"

Soren nodded. "Thank you."

He did feel better.

"Now that's over." Her fingers made a creepy grabbing motion midair. "How about you let me have a peek into that Shade of yours?"

Soren backed off a bit. He had forgotten that this woman had this side to her.

However, there was no time. He leaned over and grabbed one of the bigger syringes on the table.

And before her unwilling eyes, he plunged it into his neck.

[You died]

....

Soren woke up. He sat upright on his bed—Doctor Kaya's words rang in his subconscious.

He needed to think about this more logically than emotionally.

After hearing Kaya's story, Soren could now see why he was conflicted.

Firstly, he had too big of an expectation from Handler, Ratler, and Slacker.

He had to first understand them as people with different beliefs from his own.

It was the only way he would see them for who or what they truly were.

Secondly, because he had grown to accept and love them, that did not mean that they suddenly had the right to destroy what he called precious.

Soren's gaze became fierce, making up his mind on what to do.

But then he sighed to himself.

"Forgive me, Vinegar." He whispered as he slumped on the bed.

He had a lot to think about and a lot of planning to do.

....

(5 todays later... filled with thinking and planning)

....

(Then another 102 todays later of constantly trying to convince Vinegar's fathers individually, but with no change—Soren made up his mind.)

And so once again, the day repeated itself like it had done on the first loop of his release.

However, this time around, his mind was not on the tender kisses Vinegar gave.

It was on what was going to happen next.

"Vinegar!" They called for her.

However, the person that showed up to the inner parts of the cave was not Vinegar.

But Soren.

"Where is Vinegar?" Handler asked.

Soren stepped forward. "She is still gathering twigs for the fire."

A pause.

Handler exchanged a look with Slacker, as if asking, 'What do we do now?'

"Eh... good. Could you come lend me a hand then?" Slacker asked.

"Sure," Soren nodded, pretending not to notice the way Ratler was blending into the shadows, as if he were not there.

Soren squatted and began arranging the labelled boxes—all filled with ice.

And then he asked, "So no meat for dinner?"

"Don't worry about it. Ratler found a squirrel's hole when we were coming; he is going to skin something nice for us."

Soren nodded, arranging the boxes.

Meanwhile, Handler, behind, drew closer; the short blade was out.

Still, Soren did not panic.

And then he spoke again. "You know that day we went back into the glass, Vinegar told a lot of things—about your kids. Two of them have ectoplasmic poisoning, right?"

Slacker paused a bit. Then he nodded slowly. "An unfortunate accident caused it."

"Same with Handler's wife, who is Ratler's sister." Soren added.

Handler also froze, mere inches from executing the attack.

"You know, I have a friend, Tommy. His abilities are a bit similar to yours. Except with his, he could separate matter one layer from the other.

He tried to use it to cure his sick mother. She was also poisoned by ectoplasm."

Slacker raised his head to Soren. No doubt the young man had gotten his attention.

"What was the result?" Slacker asked curiously.

Soren shook his head. "He only practiced on the rats. Because they always died, he never took the risk on his mother."

Slacker shook his head. "That's too bad."

However, Soren disagreed. "I think he did the right thing. You see, sometimes when we try to help, lacking extensive knowledge in such a delicate field, we end up making things much worse."

Soren raised his head to Slacker. "Or is that not what happened to you too?"

Slacker's fists tightened. And Handler behind, his raised hand slowly put down the blade.

Memories flashing in their minds.

Soren continued. "It took a long time for me to figure things out. But I did. With your ability to morph organic matter, you thought maybe you could somehow purge the ectoplasm from their bodies.

But unfortunately, you couldn't. In fact, you made things worse."

As Soren spoke, Slacker's head went low, tears dropping from his eyes.

"With their organs becoming messed up, the only other option was changing them—an organ transplant. But affording it for three people was no easy matter.

And so you three became daring. You took odd, uncontrolled, dangerous jobs into the Glass.

That's where you lost most of your body, isn't it?"

Soren asked.

Slacker raised his head to him. Tears still fell from his eyes, but they were fierce and focused. "How do you know about that?"

"If I told you, you would not believe me. But it does not matter. Because you three thought of another method.

The Prison.

That's where you met Vinegar. What a coincidence that her blood and body were not only perfect for an organ transplant, but she was also alone, hurt from the brutality of the world. What a perfect opportunity, am I right?"

Soren slowly stood to his feet. "You get to do the task ordered by your master and still farm organs—as you need to.

And so you three made her love you, cherish you, her fathers—leading her like a shepherd leads the lamb to the slaughter.

You want to use her organs for your TRUE family."

Talking this far, a person breaking down in tears was heard.

Everyone instinctively knew who it was.

Vinegar.

She walked right from the corner—face a mess with tears and mucus.

"Is it true?" She muttered.

THUD—

The box fell from Slacker's hand.

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