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A series of thoughts flashed through my mind as Emma and I slowly made our way up to the surface, lighting up the dark surroundings with our respective elements.

One was why the bronze door was there in the first place and why it didn\'t disappear even after we cleared the dungeon.

Another was why we couldn\'t see what was beyond the bronze door until we\'d cleared the dungeon.

Was this the way things were supposed to be or not?

Another crucial one was what the alternate dimension beyond the door was and why it was there.

I labeled it as an alternate dimension because that was the only accurate term for it.

But, unfortunately, there was no one to answer my questions while they were in my head, so they remained just that: questions.

As I was thinking about these things, Emma, who was silently making her way up the stairs, spoke up, jolting me out of my reverie.

"What did you do before the apocalypse, Ace?" Emma inquired, and I was immediately perplexed since I had no idea where she was headed when she talked.

Even though I was perplexed, I responded.

"life as a normal student I suppose," I answered, to which Emma nodded and spoke again.

"Do you have any hobbies?" She asked as I became increasingly perplexed by her purpose but still responded.

"If learning about new and interesting things can be considered a hobby, then that is it," I said, to which Emma replied, "Is that so?" to which I gave no response as we both fell silent as Emma spoke again and asked a question.

"Have you ever had or do you still have a girlfriend?" She inquired.

"No," I said, adding, "that\'s just a distraction that will reduce the number of times I experiment," as Emma, who heard me, burst out laughing.

Though it did not reflect well on her image, it did not look out of place on her and felt very genuine.

At least, this was how I felt because the Strange Emma was no longer the curious magical genius with whom I interacted.

She felt.... normal.

Only my mother, sister, Gustav, Adara, and, to my confusion, Anna and Mia had made me feel this way.

To say the least, it was strange.

As I reflected on these things, I decided to ask Emma why she was asking me these questions, to which she responded in an unexpected way.

"You feel sad," she said, adding, "so sad that I can sense it from your mana when you release your flames," she said as the already perplexed me became even more perplexed.

\'Me sad? Am sad?\' I began to wonder where she got this idea because I would have been happy instead if I could feel sadness.

As I was thinking this, Emma spoke again.

"I know I shouldn\'t say this since we barely know each other and it might come across as annoying, but I want to help you," she said, adding, "I want to get you out of that cage," she said as I interrupted her.

"You know, saying someone is caged to their face isn\'t something nice to say," I said, to which Emma responded.

"You say that, but I can\'t feel your anger," she said as I fell silent as several thoughts ran through my mind.

\'Am I really sad?\' I thought as I remembered the times when my mother threw birthday parties for me that I had no attachment to, or when I received hugs from my mother and sister but felt nothing and even treated them as strangers once in a while.

I also remembered seeing my father for the first time when I was younger, and the only thing he could say when he saw me was what was a bastard like me doing near him.

I remembered catching my mother crying alone several times, and even though I knew it was because of my supposed father, I couldn\'t get angry no matter how hard I tried.

I vaguely remember being isolated by everyone around me because of unusual behavior.

I recall the time I tried to impress my teacher by correctly answering a question he had gotten wrong in front of the entire class.

I expected to feel an emotion if my teacher complimented me.

Unfortunately for me and my stupid decision, I instead received scorn from everyone in my class and my teacher, and I was further isolated by everyone for a few months before my mother discovered the issue. I remembered those days when my emotions slowly faded as I started seeing my family as people I could barely call my relatives, and the times I purposely hurt myself to feel something that still didn\'t work.

\'But does all of this make me sad?\' I thought as I felt something on my face and discovered it was wet when I touched it.

I started crying at some point, even though I didn\'t make any other movements aside from water coming out of my eyes.

Unfortunately, I was still feeling nothing.

I spoke to Emma as I wiped my tears away.

"Do whatever you want, I don\'t care because it wouldn\'t work," I said, to which Emma suddenly smiled and nodded heavily as if she had ignored the latter part of what I said.

Seeing her behavior piqued my interest, so I approached Emma and inquired.

"Why do you enjoy helping others when they did not request it and it is none of your business?" I inquired, noticing Emma\'s eyebrows twitch for a split second as she responded.

"I just want to help," she said as I ignored her after hearing her uninteresting response.

She can do whatever she wants; I don\'t mind because I\'ve never really given up on feeling emotions.

The chances of starting to feel them normally are slim, but I do feel them occasionally, so I never gave up on feeling them.

And if I still can\'t feel them, I\'ll just go battle monsters much stronger than me since it might make me feel more excited.

After all, it has happened several times since the apocalypse.

As I reflected on this and talked with Emma, we got closer to the surface when I noticed light shining through the hole that led to the stairs in the first place.

\'It looks like it\'s still noon,\' I thought as we finally reached the surface.

....

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