After a short while, the guy who arm-wrestled with the Minotaurus earlier approaches me, sitting down right next to me at the bar.
“‘Sup?” he asks, whilst ‘Nemo’ already gets to work on Sirus’ drink.
“...you’re that Sirus guy who crashed on an alien planet, aren’t you?” I ask, trying to recall our first meeting.
“That’s me. Sirus Loctor, survivor of Block D. And you’re ‘the nameless detective’.”
Well, at least he hasn’t gone and called me ‘Detective Who’ like John suggested.
“Fine, so you’ve already heard about me. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Must be tough. This amnesia thing I mean. Back in my story, my best friend suffered through something similar. All of a sudden, she became unable to speak my language and did no longer recognize me. She actually thought that I had killed her friend and was now trying to take his place.”
“Capgras syndrome, huh?” I reply without even really thinking.
“No, her name is Nym. Actually, her name is way longer, but I can’t remember how to pronounce it for the life of me,” Sirus comments with a small laugh.
I take it, not the sharpest tool in the shed, this one...but still, how do I even know this name? If I really have amnesia, how do I remember such an arbitrary information?
A silly quote pops into my mind. ‘If the human brain were so simple that we could understand it, we would be so simple that we couldn’t.’. Another arbitrary information from the murky depths. Seriously, if my brain won’t let me remember who I am, why the heck is it feeding me such useless tidbits instead of what’s actually important?
“So how’d your friend deal?” I ask, more out of politeness than curiosity.
“We worked through the misunderstanding. She’s a smart cookie, she figured out that her brain implant thing was broken and that that’s why she didn’t recognize me.”
“Good for you. So, what’s that story got to do with me?”
“...nothing, really. I just wanted to offer my help with what you’re doing. I’ve seen way too much death already and when Nym comes back here, I’d rather not have to tell her to leave right away.”
“Why would you?”
“Well, d’uh! Because there’s a murderer among us! One who can kill you for good! Do you have any idea what that means? Nym’s smart. She might figure out who it is. And if she does…”
“I take it, you’re worried that she’d be killed too?”
“Damn straight I am.”
“Then why are you still here? When it is so dangerous?”

Sirus leans back on his chair, looking at the clear liquid in front of him and asks, “Have you ever been in love, Detective?”
“...not that I’d recall,” I reply, not without a pang of bitterness.
“...no, of course not. Sorry for that. Either way, Nym is...I’ve already lost her once. Learning that I can meet her again here is like a dream come true. And I refuse to let anyone destroy this dream. I will not lose her a second time. Whatever it takes. I may not be the smartest. And there sure are people here who are stronger than me. But I’ll do whatever it takes to protect this place. The place, where I can finally meet Nym again once she is done with her own story.”

I...am not sure what to make of his little speech, but if it’s help he’s offering, I’d be a fool to not take it. Especially since I don’t have my weapon any more.

I let out a long sigh and ask, “Fine, fine, I get it...so, you know anything about the case?”
“Afraid not,” Sirus replies after taking a sip from his drink, “I just know what Simon told me.”
“And...you haven’t seen hide nor hair from the victim before she died?”
“Yeah well, about that...Simon asked me the same question, but he never told me what she looked like, so I was all like, ‘How should I know?!’. Funny, right?”
“He...didn’t even give you a description?” I ask, a little surprised. I had thought these flashback sequences occurred for all who dwell here. But then again...that’s right! I didn’t see the body in Simon’s flashback either. At least not in any detail.
“...the victim is a fairly short young woman with long blonde hair which extends well to her thighs, wearing a blue shirt and fishnet stockings for pants,” I explain.
Sirus puts her finger to his chin, apparently trying to remember and finally shakes his head, saying, “No, can’t say I’ve seen her. But with that description, I can start asking around. Four legs are faster than two, am I right?”
“...no. No, please don’t,” I say, stopping Sirus from jumping up.
“...what? Why?”
“I’d rather not have word about the incident spread. Remember: One of the people here killed that girl. One of the people here is a murderer. We wouldn’t want to tip them off, right?”
“...sorry to break it to you, but there’s like a hundred murderers here,” Sirus suddenly says, making me perk up immediately and ask, “Say what?!”
“Yeah, didn’t you know? Almost everyone here has killed before. Many even their own kin, making them murderers.”

Sirus’ eyes glaze over momentarily as if remembering something painful, “...even I am guilty of that sin.”
Right...so instead of finding the needle in a haystack, I now get to find a needle in a whole stack of needles. Thank you very much, world.

“...you know what? You can ask around, but don’t tell people why you are looking for the girl. Make up something. And don’t go about it too obviously. As I said, we wouldn’t want to tip of the perpetrator.”
Sirus nods and we continue to consume our drinks in silence, a quiet, mutual understanding forming between us.

The primordial sin...taking the life of the own brother, or, in this case, the own sister. And I’m in a hotel chock full of people who have done just that.