There was much buzzing in the halls about 'visitors' or 'guests'; from what Kunzite could piece together from the fragments of conversation, Landel and his staff somehow brought the 'patients' individuals whom they recognized from their original worlds. "No doubt some other form of hypnotic suggestion," he muttered under his breath, passing it off as jealous banter when questioned by the nurse escorting him to his room. His roommate was already inside, presumably resting from a long, exhaustive day. The swordsman sat on his bed, removing his notebook from the back pocket to jot down some observations on the day.

The arrival of supper did not distract him initially; brunch was extremely filling - and interesting, to say the least - but the tantalizing smell of the stake was difficult to resist for long. Closing the book and placing it on his desk, he moved to stand, but noted that Zex had barely attempted to partake of his own dinner, and still remained in his initial position. Something was amiss.

"Excuse me," Kunzite started, moving toward his roommate's half of the quarters but remaining somewhat distant nonetheless, "are you well? Do I need to procure some sort of medical treatment for you?"