Katsuragi and Ikaruga are spending their day off by staying in playing cards. When Ikaruga decides to cook, Katsuragi does what she has to so she can live. She remembers the countless times Ikaruga has almost killed somebody with her cooking.

“Ikaruga’s just cooking. Wait… Ikaruga’s cooking…”

The structure of the cave hideout is letting a cool breeze flow through it, filling every section and room with a relaxing air. The coolest area being the main gathering area where most of the furniture and belongings are, such as the flat screen television and public computer area along one wall, and assorted cabinets and shelves along the opposite wall. The hideout is quiet, so the air is making a gentle whistling sound. It’s mostly empty, except for one person.

Wearing her usual uniform, a yellow sweater with a black camisole underneath and a bright pink tight skirt with a matching ribbon in her hair and a purple belt and dark leggins, Homura’s Crimson Squad member Haruka sits at her desk; the desk is covered in test tubes and beakers of different shapes and sizes, most of them with liquids of various colors. Legs crossed and stuck in a long ponder, Haruka meticulously looks at all of her different mixtures and concoctions, trying to sort out the newest from the oldest. She gently takes out one tube from its holder and shakes it a bit.

“This one is for increasing body mass. Homura wanted to try and get a bit stronger, but it didn’t exactly work out that way.”

She puts the tube back down and pick up another tube to examine.

“You’re the one that puts people to sleep and forces them to have nightmares.”

As she’s holding it, a nostalgic feeling washes over her Haruka’s body, making her let out a relaxed and joyful laugh.

“Watching Yomi’s face while she slept was just amazing!”

With a small smile on her face, she places the tube back in its holder and rolls back in her seat, overlooking the entire desk. Months of experiments and testing has resulted in a large amount of different substances that all serve a purpose in one way or another, whether it’s something minor as curing an ailment, to complex situations like a sudden urge to make somebody dance.

Haruka crosses her arms and turns around to walk away, but comes to a stop, making her heeled shoes clack against the paved ground; an echo rings through the hideout. She stands still for a moment before turning back around to face the desk. Her eyes lock on to a specific beaker at the edge of the desk. She walks over to it and gently picks it up by the rim, slowly stirring it around.

The beaker is barely empty, having just enough of a dark blue liquid to fill a small drinking glass. As Haruka’s holding it, she tilts her head and squints her eyes, trying to remember exactly what’s inside the beaker.

“What are you? I know every single thing on this desk like the back of my hand, but I don’t have the slightest idea of what you are.”

Haruka holds the beaker above her head into the light, so she can look at it from the bottom; the liquid isn’t that thick, so she can easily see through it.