The elevator doors had barely begun to slide shut when a glowing red system window filled Neville’s vision.
[Host!
ΣΣ(ﾟДﾟ
; )]
Shelly popped out again, alarmed.
[Your hydration levels!]
The moment she popped out, Neville instantly staggered and held on to the elevator handle.
He had barely managed to survive the day at Maxwell Corporation with an IV drip and some foul-tasting nutrient solution, but it seemed that it wasn’t enough.
His legs gave out the second the door clicked shut behind him.
With a pained grunt, Neville hit the floor, his neatly pressed uniform scraping against the carpet. He didn’t have the strength to stand, so he crawled, dragging himself in a desperate beeline for the bathroom.
There was no time to bother with buttons or zippers; he practically fell into the tub, plunging his aching body into the lukewarm, day-old brine solution he hadn’t drained from yesterday.
A high-pitched voice chirped up beside his ear.
[Eek, Host. Seriously?
(¬_¬ )
]
Shelly materialized as a glowing pink seashell, hovering just over the water’s surface as she feigned covering a non-existent nose.
[I can see the dead skin cells in there!]
I don’t think I’m that dirty. I literally take a bath every day.
Neville ignored her, his entire being focused on the relief spreading through him.
The warm, salty water was a miracle, seeping into his skin and extinguishing the burning ache in his muscles. The agonizing dryness began to recede, replaced by a deep satisfaction.
[Host, that’s literally bathing in your own dead skin,]
Shelly continued, her voice dripping with disgust.
[That’s like... like reusing underwear!
( >︹///_︹<)
He let out a soft chuckle, the sound barely disturbing the water.
It was strange to think that just recently, he was completely alone. Now he had a nagging, holographic seashell who now knew how to talk back.
He closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.