The camera panned to an unoccupied incubation capsule as the staff member continued.
**Staff Member**: "It must be noted, however, that this transition didn't come without its perils. Some of these capsules emptied, a chilling reminder of those who were unprepared for integration."
The lens gradually refocused on Hobe's solemn expression as the staff member delved into the sobering reality of the situation.
**Staff Member**: "These fearless souls faced unforeseen complications when attempting to synergize with the machine implants. Tragically, those challenges proved insurmountable, ultimately resulting in the untimely demise of their occupants."
The disquieting account hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the extravagant fashion and seemingly surreal atmosphere manifested by the staffers.
"Okay, cut. That's a wrap," the staff ordered the camera crew, signaling an end to the dramatic sequence.
Turning to Alina, he introduced himself, "You're Alina The Wolf, right? Hi, I'm Chris, and I have some important messages that I must relay to you."
Following his lead, Alina was escorted to a different room.
Unlike the deep chill and austere sterility of the incubation chamber, the room she was led into felt surprisingly warm and inviting.
The walls were painted in calming muted tones, with several pieces of abstract art adorning the walls, capturing the post-apocalyptic zeitgeist in vibrant hues.
A rich, plush rug covered a portion of the wooden floor, a splash of color against the dark grain.
A cozy corner with a comfortable armchair sat beside a floor lamp, providing a softer, more personal touch to the otherwise professional setting of the room.
Here and there were shelves, teeming with video recording equipment, hinting at the high-stakes dissemination of information they routinely handled.
As Alina settled in, she was greeted by the familiar glow of a camera lens turning on, once again capturing her in its focus.
Chris' face was bathed in the gentle glow sent radiating from the room's soft lights, casting an intimate play of shadows that enhanced his speech.
Amidst the careful choreography of the scene, Alina couldn't help but observe with a cynical mind, So it's all part of the drama.
"I've come here to relay a message from the Upper Society — they've decided that it would be best for Hari to be cremated," Chris ventured, his gestures marked by the characteristic flamboyance of a professional presenter.
Taken aback, Alina narrowed her eyes, "Isn't there another way?"
Caught off guard by the seemingly macabre proposal, Alina burst out laughing. "Surely, you jest?! Your jokes are wearing thin."
Despite her seemingly flippant reaction, Alina understood the underlying gravity of Chris' insinuation.
Bursting with indignation, Alina rebuked their ludicrous notion. "You're contradicting your own judgments!" She blasted, disbelief piercing every syllable.
"Initially, when Hobe demonstrated his potential through the Citywide mission, it gnawed at your convictions enough to award them an opportunity! Yet now, as soon as Hobe agrees to endure the transformation into a Slayer Knight, while he's vulnerable in slumber, you contemplate extinguishing Hari's life. Truly, a concept as striking as it is horrifying!"
A sense of disillusionment seized Alina as she grappled with the society's evident lack of integrity. The room throbbed with tension, silent witnesses to the unfolding drama.
At this moment, a member of the Upper Society staff reached out towards Alina. A hand descended upon her shoulder, the soft caress attempting to feign empathy, an empty gesture designed to placate rather than genuinely comfort.
It was a transparent attempt to control the situation, an unconvincing display of pretentious concern in response to Alina's impassioned outburst.
"Alina, don't let your despair cloud your judgement," the Upper Society Staff member's voice broke through the charged silence, every word meticulously laced with faux sympathy.
"We're painfully aware that Hari has been battling the infection for several days. There's no miracle to anticipate; she won't make a recovery! Her life will henceforth be dictated by their dependency on exceedingly expensive antidotes. Given this stark revelation, are you prepared to pledge your points? Are you willing to provide this guarantee until Hobe awakens and can shoulder the financial burden himself, taking care of his and his sister's sustenance?"
At his unsettling proposition, Alina leaned back into the deafening silence of the room.
She didn't launch into a verbal counter-attack; instead, she sank deep into her thoughts, weighing the grave consequences of such a pledge.
The ramifications echoed loudly in her mind - the enormity of the decision pressing heavily against the walls of her conscience.
But while her words retreated for a moment, her eyes held their ground, fiercely glaring back at the intruding hand resting on her shoulder.
Burning with a silent rebuke, they spoke volumes about her distaste for the patronizing comfort it feigned.
His skin prickling under the icy intensity of Alina's stare, the staff member jolted in discomfort.
The unspoken confrontation caught him off-guard, stripping away his pretense of composure.
With a sudden awkward jerk, he hastily retracted his hand, a futile attempt to retract the overstep he had dared to venture.
Exuding a newfound calm after subduing her initial fury, Alina broke the tense silence enveloping the room.
"Exactly how many points would I need to guarantee in order to ensure Hari's survival until Hobe is financially capable to undertake her expenses?" she inquired, her tone steady but lined with grim determination.
Her question betrayed no weakness, reflecting the realistic fact that she was prepared for the uphill battle against the Upper Society.
As futile as the struggle may seem, she understood the rules of the game they were all forced to play in this distorted reality of the entertainment world they inhabited.
Tap-dancing around her inquiry, Chris proceeded to unravel the dismal specifics. "Your commitment," he elucidated, "would lead to a daily deduction of 150 points from your general tally until such a time that Hobe is able to resume the financial responsibility of caring for Hari in the 'special quarantine for infected individuals.' At a first glance, the daily 150-point figure might seem astronomical. Let me put this into perspective for you. On average, the upkeep of a Slayer Knight hovered around 50 points per day, which included access to the finest facilities we offered. So indeed, 150 points daily was considerably expensive."