Again.

Why? Why am I here?

Again.

Before my eyes—is you.

You always appear when I am here, confined within there walls whose make bears no resemblance to steel, yet steel is all I feel.

It makes my body shiver, my teeth and ears ring. My mind locks at the sight. I huddle within myself as if I am cold inside this room, though the temperature feels just right.

I know the source of this steel.

This steel is you.

Because although I am clueless to where I am at this moment—and perhaps throughout the entirety of my surviving existence—I know you.

But why do you appear?

I am constantly seeing you here.

We have been here for so many times.

Shouldn't this be over?

Why are we here?

You appear and do nothing. I see you and do nothing. We accomplish nil in this room.

So why do we keep appearing here?

Should I ask you, the only other I know?

But you will not reply—you never reply, and you only ask.

Questions, questions, questions.

I'm sick and tired of questions.

What I want is an answer. All I want is an answer.

Why must we remain trapped in here?

Steel, you are my only companion.

Can you answer me, just this once before we repeat this again?