I thought I was dead, but…
Where am I?
Swallowing nervously, I jerked my head around, desperate for an answer.
A spacious room, more like a kind of living room, but with bars on the windows.
Right in front of me stood a group of people wearing identical clothes — black and white stripes with numbers embroidered on their chests.
That explained… why I had absolutely no idea how I ended up here.
"This is…."
Trying unsuccessfully to find any words, I touched the strange thing on my neck.
(Is that… a collar?)
The cold metal ring around my neck was undoubtedly a collar.
(I was definitely dead, so I couldn't have ended up here. Then is this an illusion?)
Taking a few steps, I felt long hair flutter behind me, and turning around, I realized it was light pink.
Even if this is just a dream… Of course, I'd rather see something more pleasant than all this.
It's hard to imagine a more miserable place to wake up in.
—I really am in prison… haha — I ran my hand through my hair, trying to accept this absurdity.
Because I was in prison.
Prison! Prison, damn it!
They say when a person dies, their life flashes before their eyes. But should my dying dream really be like this?
After all, I didn't wake up in a luxurious room with an exquisite bed, nor even in a half-ruined hut.
(I didn't feel guilty, so why here of all places?...)
As expected, I found no answer.
And yet, the sensations felt so real. Is this really a dream?
Well, if I were younger, I guess I'd call it a miracle or—worse—a reincarnation into another world. But no, I was still me and refused to believe such nonsense.
—Hm, and yet, my appearance…
Rising from the couch where I found myself, I felt weak but ignored it and thoughtfully said this while looking into the reflection of the huge mirror five meters away.
Long pink hair, pale white skin, fragile figure, blue bead-like eyes, and that face…
No matter how you look at it, it was strange. That fearful, cold, pale expression, and eyes full of hopelessness.
"A living corpse."
That's how I wanted to describe the sight.
The body looked like a statue pretending to be alive. Like a puppet tied to strings, a doll come to life.
Maybe this shell was different, but still…
Wasn't it too much?
I had been a confident woman who knew no obstacles to a wonderful life, but the face of this stranger, who also seemed ten years younger and looked like a spineless amoeba…
Walking through this strange living room, I stepped outside.
Strangely, there were no guards at the exit, and I entered a huge dining hall.
Questions kept spinning in my head. If I were Alice in Wonderland, I'd say the plot was getting stranger and stranger.
Unlike a real prison, this was something else entirely, giving off hints of… European medieval times?
Besides, it seemed nobody was paying attention to me.
It must be because this is a dream?
(Probably…)
—Oh, Rosaline, there you are!
A male voice broke through my thoughts, and turning around, I saw an irritated, exhausted man in white clothes quickly approaching.
(Rosaline? Why is he calling me that?)
—… — I fell silent, just staring at him questioningly.
Without waiting for an answer, he babbled on:
—You haven't recovered from the shock yet, why are you wandering here? I was only gone a minute. I thought you were going to—! — He faltered at the last word, biting his tongue as if he'd said too much.
—What are you talking about? And where are we?
(And why did he call me Rosaline? Maybe because this is a dream, and it really makes no sense.)
—You really haven't recovered from the shock… — tiredly adjusting his glasses, he looked at my questioning face with some pity.
—Where are we?
I repeated the question firmly, not wanting to hear more nonsense.
—This is a prison for special prisoners who possess magic… — he repeated cautiously, carefully studying my face.
—I see, haha…
It was so absurd it wasn't even funny.
This dream felt more like one of those romantic novels I sometimes read out of boredom in high school.
Apparently, medieval European reincarnation novels were still popular, but with content like this…
—Anyway, if you try this again, the collar will stop you, so don't even try! You want to avoid a funeral, right? Be grateful that your family wasn't informed.
—A funeral? You talk like I wanted to kill myself, haha…
—.....
From his shocked, tense face, I could tell I hit a nerve.
—Hey, come on…
—If you want to die so badly, do it for real. Don't just bang your head against a corner and cause trouble for everyone.
—Uh...
—...Are you serious?
Me, committing suicide?
Maybe my brain was calculating possible ways I might die or something like that…
When a person sleeps, the brain keeps working and sorting through all gathered information. Maybe it's the same with a dying dream?
—Do you know how much mana I had to spend healing you? Imagine the trouble if your family found out, although… since they willingly sent you here, they probably wouldn't care, haha…
—Anyway, if there's nothing else to say, I'm leaving, I still have work!
(And still, what does all this even mean?..)
My eyes widened, and pursing my lips, I silently watched him leave.
—Surely…
I repeated thoughtfully, turning over the short conversation in my head. But what if I die in the dream?
What if… there's at least a tiny chance that I'm still alive… then if I die in the dream… hmm…
Can I come back?
Swallowing the lump frozen in my throat at the thought of suicide, a heavy shiver ran through my body.
Hmm, he said "Rosaline" wanted to kill herself but failed, so no wonder she doesn't have the courage to die again.
"There's nothing to be done about that."
I doubt I can get the answers I need alone. In this situation, I should ask for help from those around me.
If there's even the slightest chance to survive, I can't miss it and…
…die here first!