My brain spiraled, latching onto that terrifying possibility. The thoughts I had once dismissed, thoughts that had only ever led to endless self-doubt and mental exhaustion—flooded back, relentless.
If this is real… wouldn't that explain everything?
But could it?
I had never seen another human here before. Every doctor I had ever spoken to told me it was all in my head—that my brain injury was making me hallucinate, that none of this was real. That I was just a victim of my own broken mind.
But now… this woman stood in front of me. She felt real. Too real.
Before my thoughts could spiral any further, her voice snapped me back to the present.
"Don't try to play dumb."
She loosened her grip on her staff, letting it fall to her side. Then, without hesitation, she clenched her free hand into a fist.
At first, it seemed like nothing unusual—just a normal hand. But then, tendrils of dark smoke curled from between her fingers, swirling up her arm. The next moment, her entire fist ignited.
Pale blue flames flickered to life, licking up her skin like a hungry beast.
My thoughts screeched to a halt.
I blinked once. Then twice.
Did her… hand just catch fire?
A strange chuckle escaped my lips before I could stop it.
Her hand is burning.
She showed no reaction to the flames, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
I tore my gaze away from her and looked around again. The world around me—the unfamiliar ruins, the shattered buildings, the rusted metal scattered across the ground—felt foreign yet solid, nothing like the shifting landscapes of my usual dreams.
A woman stood before me, her presence undeniably real, yet her hand burned with an unnatural flame that defied logic.
For a split second, I had started to believe this might be real.
But this?
This was impossible.
I exhaled, my breath unsteady. "For a moment, I thought this all might've been real… but now?" I let out a dry laugh. "This has to be a dream, right?"
I shook my head, trying to push the weight of my thoughts away. "I must be losing it."
She tilted her head slightly, as if confused by my reaction. But whatever she was thinking, she didn't dwell on it.
Her voice hardened. "Enough of this."
The flames around her fist surged, glowing brighter. The dim moonlight that had once bathed the ruined city in darkness was now rapidly fading. A new light began to rise from the horizon, casting long, golden streaks across the desolate landscape.
The sun was rising.
I exhaled slowly, my body loosening as I resigned myself to what was about to happen.
"Finally… this is over."
She hesitated for the first time. Her hand, poised to strike, wavered slightly.
"What's over?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
I didn't answer. Instead, I closed my eyes, waiting.
She started to say something else, but before I could make out the words, everything around me shifted.
A force yanked me backward.
The world around me vanished as if I had fallen into an unseen abyss. A familiar sensation overtook me—weightlessness, as if I were sinking into deep water.
This feeling…
I knew it well.
It happened every time.
The exact moment the sun rose, my body would be pulled under, drowning in nothingness.
~~~
A faint sound cut through the void.
Ding-dong.
At first, it was soft, distant. But as it continued, the metallic chime grew louder, vibrating deep in my chest.
My hands moved instinctively, reaching for the source of the noise.
With a groggy swipe, I stopped the alarm.
My body felt heavy, my limbs weighed down by exhaustion. My mind was still foggy, lingering in the aftershocks of the dream.
I didn't want to move.
Maybe if I stayed like this, I could sleep a little longer…
But then, something felt off.
Something was resting against me.
Something soft.
My eyes snapped open.
The familiar white ceiling stared back at me.
My room.
I let out a deep breath, relief washing over me.
That dream…
It had been terrifying in more ways than one.
But as I recalled every detail, a strange, lingering frustration settled in my chest.
For some reason, I had the overwhelming urge to beat the shit out of someone.
"What the…" I muttered under my breath.
I let my head roll to the side, still half-asleep.
Then—
A soft touch grazed my face.
I froze.
A hand?
Slowly, hesitantly, I lowered my gaze to the source of the touch.
And there—
Lying near my stomach, her head resting against me as if she had simply dozed off—was the masked woman.
The weight against me shifted slightly, warm and real. Her breath was steady, slow. Too calm for someone who had, by all logic, been trying to kill me just minutes ago.
My breath hitched.
"Huh—haah?!"
The startled noise escaped before I could stop it.
A voice called from the other side of the wall.
"Everything alright, Riman?"
It was Sugar.
I barely registered the question, my brain still struggling to process what I was looking at.
Sugar had moved out earlier this year, but not too long ago, she suddenly returned to live here again. And now she was checking in on me?
What the fuck was going on?
"Yeah… Everything's fine," I called back, my voice shaky.
"Then don't shout so early in the morning," she scolded. "And since you're actually up on time today, come join us for breakfast."
"G-go ahead. I'll be there in a minute" I answered back, controlling my voice.
I carefully shifted myself away from her, trying not to wake her as I sat up on the bed. My heart pounded in my chest, a restless, heavy beat that made it hard to think straight.
"Hmm, looks like there's something wrong here, oh not-so-dumb Ahriman," she said, her voice carrying that soft yet commanding tone that always managed to get under my skin.
"I wasn't asking you. Either you come down, or I'll just drag you out."
My pulse quickened, hammering loudly in my chest. Why was she so persistent? And why today, of all days? When my sense of reality was already blurring, slipping between what was real and what wasn't?
I heard her footsteps moving away, the wooden floor creaking under her weight, and I exhaled in relief. Maybe she was leaving—
A sharp knock at the door.
Think fast.
"It's been weeks since you last had breakfast with us," she continued, her voice firm. "Normally, you don't wake up around eight. It's usually ten minutes before you have to leave for college. So today, you're joining us."
I glanced toward the masked woman, still sprawled across my bed, completely unbothered by the shouting. Her breathing was steady, her chest rising and falling in a slow, hypnotic rhythm, as if she were in a deep slumber—or dead.
I debated whether I should let her sleep a little longer.
A loud thump rattled the door.
Do you want to kill us?
"Fine," I said quickly. "I'm coming in a sec, just let me change."
"Good." Her footsteps receded, but then they suddenly stopped.
"Oh, and next time, sleep on your bed instead of passing out on your desk. I won't drag you to bed again."
I heard her walking away again, and this time, she actually left.
I let out a slow breath.
"No privacy at all, huh?" I muttered under my breath.
I turned my attention back to the mysterious woman on my bed, and instantly, my mind raced. A flood of questions surged forward, heating up my body despite the relatively cool air in the room. My palms grew damp.
Shit. I don't have time for this.
The more important question was: what do I do with her?
~
The dining room was uncomfortably silent.
I sat next to Sugar, while Mel—another sister, roughly my age—sat across from me. Beside her was Martha, my so-called mother, who kept stealing glances at me between bites of food. Some usual faces were missing.
Maybe they left early. Or maybe they were still being worked to the bone from the night before and hadn't returned yet.
The quiet pressed down on me, thick and suffocating, like the humidity before a storm. The clinking of spoons against bowls echoed in the stillness, each sound sharp and deliberate. It was unsettling, but somehow, still better than forced conversation.
I focused on my bowl of cereal, each bite mechanical, just something to occupy myself.
Then, Sugar spoke.
"You've been missing your doctor's appointments."
I swallowed the cereal in my mouth. "No. I stopped going."
She turned to me abruptly, eyes wide. "What?" she blurted, still chewing. A few crumbs flew out, landing on my face.
Guh. Not now.
She swallowed quickly, her voice lowering to a sharp whisper. "Look at yourself. You're losing weight. You have dark circles. You look like a freaking zombie. Why did you stop going?"
She paused for a beat, her expression shifting as though she suddenly understood something.
"Are you out of cash? I can lend you some."
"Don't waste money on him. He isn't worth it," Melissa chimed in, her tone detached as ever.
I didn't even have to look at her to know she was glaring at me. Her words, like always, were aimed to hurt.
Melissa had never liked me. Most people in this household didn't, and they never hid it either. It was just another reason I kept my distance.
Sugar frowned. "Shut up, Melissa."
Her words were sharp, but they still carried a truth I couldn't ignore.
"She's right, Sugar," I admitted. "It's a waste of money. The doctors don't have a clue what's wrong with me."
Sugar's brows knitted together in concern. "That doesn't mean it's a waste. You should see another doctor."
There was no point in arguing with her. Sugar was the type of person who latched onto something and wouldn't let go, like a fungus taking over an ant's body.
I shouldn't call her that.
But still, ugh.
"Yeah," I muttered. "I'll try to find a new one."
There was no use explaining my condition to her. If I told her that every night I somehow traveled to unknown places while my body remained here, sleeping—what would she think?
It would make me sound insane.
But now, there was proof. The woman in my room.
She was real, right?
I wasn't losing my mind, right?
My thoughts spiraled.
The only way to get answers was through her. She knew something I didn't.
But what if she tried to kill me again?
"Rim," Sugar called.
And what about last night? Didn't she break my shoulder? Then how was it fine now?
"Riman."
Was she even really in my room? Or was this all another dream?
Am I dreaming now?
No, I wasn't.
And I touched her. Before I came downstairs, I had tied her up tightly. Her body had been warm. Soft.
Wait. Those soft things—
My brain short-circuited.
Pain suddenly shot through my arm. A sharp pinch, the twisting of muscle.
I hissed and turned toward Sugar, who was pinching me, her expression unusually sour.
"Stop ignoring me," she scolded. "And why do you look so flustered?"
"Boobs."
The word slipped out before I could stop it.
A heavy silence crashed onto the table.
Three pairs of eyes froze on me, their expressions somewhere between disbelief and horror.
"Boobs?"
The way they all stared, as if I had just committed some unholy sin, made my skin prickle.
Ugh. What is with that reaction? All I said was 'boobs.' Dad says weirder things all the time!
I scrambled to correct myself, forcing my voice to remain steady. "Sorry. I meant books. I was thinking about doing some yoga. There are some asanas that help with sleep, so I was considering getting some books on it."
Sugar blinked. "Oh—uh, you should." She let go of my arm.
Even though I had salvaged the situation, the atmosphere remained weird.
I focused on finishing my breakfast as quickly as possible, my urgency to escape to my room growing by the second.