Roman was on his bed, bleeding from the shoulder. He had a long scratch on his shoulder from a Dragonwitch. Virgil was next to the bed, caring for his wounds.

"There's a 20-30% chance you'll die," Virgil said.

"Oh... I don't like those odds..." Roman muttered.

Deceit was also there, getting the supplies for Roman's shoulder.

"At least there less than 50%! What did you expect?" Deceit asked.

"FOR THEM TO BE 0%!" Roman yelled.

"Calm down, Roman. Listen to me, not him. I'm your boyfriend, not him."

"That would be gross..."

"Well, I already have a boyfriend!" Deceit said. "It's Honesty..."

"Honestly, how can he stand you?" Roman asked.

"How dare you use a pun for his name!"

"Can you two shut up...?" Virgil muttered.