CHAPTER 22

The silence between us lingered for a moment, and I couldn't help but think about our shared predicament. It struck me that both of us were essentially nameless in this facility.

Was it a common occurrence for newcomers like us to lose their memories and identities?

Feeling a sense of unease, I turned to the girl, who I now knew as Number 102, I decided to ask, "Do you remember anything about yourself? Anything at all?"

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze averted as if trying to recall distant memories. Eventually, she shook her head, signaling that her past remained a complete mystery.

I empathized with her plight. While I could only vaguely remember my own past, she appeared to have even less to hold onto. It was a disconcerting feeling to be in a place where one's very identity was stripped away, leaving nothing but uncertainty.

Unable to offer any solutions, I decided to focus on the task at hand.

"Alright, let's read this book together," I suggested, holding up the book titled "The Princess's Knight."

Number 102 nodded eagerly, her eyes brightening with anticipation. It was heartwarming to see her express herself, even if her words were limited.

I cleared my throat and began to read the story aloud, describing the adventures of the princess and her brave knight.

Despite the simplicity of the text and illustrations, I noticed that Number 102 was fully engrossed in the tale.

Her eyes followed the pages with rapt attention, and occasionally, she would gesture towards an illustration, prompting me to provide additional details.

It was as if we were embarking on a shared journey of discovery within the confines of the story.

As I continued to read, I couldn't help but wonder about the true purpose of this facility and the role these white figures played in it.

Were they merely observers?

Lost in thought, I glanced at Number 102, who was now engrossed in the story, her earlier shyness and hesitation giving way to pure fascination. Despite our nameless and memory-less existence, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that we might uncover the truth together, one page at a time.

6

The library was a mesmerizing sight, a fusion of old-world charm and futuristic aesthetics.

Countless books stood neatly arranged on white-framed shelves, each one forming stripes of blue script colors illuminating from their white covers that contrasted beautifully under the soft blue LED lights.

The walls, clear like alabaster, were adorned with these same blue lights, creating an ambiance that was both calming and otherworldly.

Beneath our feet, white marble floors sparkled as if to mirror the soft illumination from the intricate drawings on the domed ceiling overhead. The overall effect was breathtaking in its beauty yet striking in its simplicity. The library was a vast hall, with bookshelves towering at 20 meters high, forming a maze-like structure that divided the space into four long rectangular sections. Between the shelves were narrow walkways, about five meters wide, while smaller lounge rooms for reading were situated at each end.

In the center, a fixed white table was surrounded by soft white chairs, resembling something akin to a diner set.

The ambiance was perfect for studying – a tranquil space, maintained at a comfortable temperature, with efficient air conditioning.

It was like a scene plucked from the pages of a classic library, yet clouded with the aura of science fiction.

I sat in one of the white lounge chairs next to Number 102, a few mets away from the center of the library.

Despite the space between us, I found myself thoroughly engrossed in a picture book.

The lounge was located in the left wing of the library, where we could sit in relative peace.

Any typical reaction a young man might have to such proximity with a girl was overshadowed by the intense, almost holy, aura she emanated.

Her piercing gaze locked onto me, and it felt as if she could see through my very soul, creating a rather uncomfortable atmosphere.

Under these circumstances, any impure thoughts were swiftly purged from my mind, allowing me to focus on the pictures within the book.

The book I was reading was unlike any I had come across in this library. It featured intricate artwork that seemed to come to life as I turned the pages.

The images depicted a silver-armored knight, a princess dressed in vibrant stripes, a menacing witch with a black cape, and a fiery red dragon against a backdrop of multicolored scenery.

The movement in the pictures, lasting just a few seconds, added a layer of realism to the story.

Although there were no words, the sequential images conveyed the narrative effectively.

However, unlike other books, this one lacked a table of contents, an index, a glossary, or an author's note.

It seemed to exist solely to tell a story.

Most striking of all was the absence of faces on all the characters, mirroring the enigmatic white figures.

I couldn't help but wonder what had drawn Number 102's interest to this peculiar tale.

I glanced over at Number 102, only to find her resting her head on her arms on the table. Fatigue seemed to have caught up with her after the day's events.

Despite my initial skepticism, I couldn't deny that her sleeping form looked unexpectedly cute.

I grinned at the thought of her trusting me enough to sleep beside me, knowing that I wasn't the type to take advantage of her vulnerability.

Yet, in this strange place, her level of trust felt both heartwarming and suspicious.

As I carefully moved a few centis away from Number 102 to avoid any potential traps—though I highly doubted it—I pondered the idea of trust in this peculiar world.

While it was reassuring to be considered trustworthy, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that her level of trust might be misplaced.

I slowly opened the distance between us and looked around the lounge, there were no sign of anyone.

With a sigh, I decided to leave her in peace.

"…why don't I head to the bath".

It seemed like the perfect opportunity to head to the bath.