When Vreta lost his focus, it also became easier for him to lose his sense of time. He had been dancing at first with the Agent, then…others. He found himself gravitating towards Tindrel especially, and he did not question why. He simply did what he felt he should and let his impulses drive him, at least for a time. When he saw the “fight”, if it could be called that, which Agent 595 ended up in, it was enough to at least partially pull Vreta back into reality. There was a part of him in the back of his mind that, strangely, felt like he understood why she was doing what she was doing, despite the fact that he had not seen the events leading up to it. 

In any case, there was enough lucidity in Vreta’s mind that he did not lose focus on what he felt he needed to do. By the time he and some of the others had approached the Agent, she had released her grip on the clubgoer, but Vreta still felt strongly that he needed to prevent it from happening again. “This is…getting to be too much. We shouldn’t stay here like this. My…my apartment. On the upper level of the city; let’s go there. Stay out of trouble…”

[hr]

Vreta was awoken by a beam of light shining in onto his eyes early in the morning from one of the windows. Though, before he even opened his eyes, he was already receiving reports on his body’s current state from his neural implant. It was alerting him to seek water soon, as he was becoming dehydrated, and it was currently releasing a treatment into his brain to suppress a headache. He felt that he was laying on the couch in his living room, though more importantly, he was not laying there alone. In his arms, nestled between him and the cushions was a naked Human woman. His memories of how he came to be in this position were not returning to him immediately, but he did not feel that it would take many guesses to come to the right answer. It was uncommon of him to choose a partner that was non-Rothian, but it was not something that was entirely new to him, either. However, when he finally opened his eyes to see the person he was holding in his claws, he found that it was none other than Agent 595. That was…more unusual.

Vreta did not immediately get up. Instead, he laid his head back and started skipping through parts of his recording of the night’s events to jog his own memory. He started with the last point he remembered, then skipped ahead to start filling in the gaps. The more he remembered, the more…interesting the story became, and he expected he would be telling it soon enough.