CHAPTER 12

As our conversation deepened, the cat's gaze shifted toward my neck. It stared intently for a moment before speaking again. "You know, you seem familiar, like I've seen you somewhere before. Do you recall your name?"

I furrowed my brow, realizing that I couldn't remember my own name. It was as if a fog had descended upon that part of my memory. "I... I can't seem to recall it."

The cat's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "Let's see if there's a clue." It gently reached out and peered at my neck, its gaze fixated on something I hadn't noticed before.

I felt a strange sensation as the cat examined my neck, and I winced slightly.

"Ah, there it is," the cat exclaimed, its voice filled with triumph.

I looked puzzled as the cat continued, "Stripes of blue lines, like a serial number tag '101'. It's as if it's part of you, like it grew there."

I touched the area the cat had been examining and felt the unusual texture. The stripes were indeed there, fixed to my skin like an intricate pattern.

"What does it mean?" I asked, bewildered by the discovery.

The cat's expression turned thoughtful. "This marking might hold the key to your identity, or perhaps it's a link to your origin in this realm. Sometimes, what we seek is right in front of us, waiting to be decoded."

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the blue lines was a part of me.

It was as if the library, the dream, and now this marking were all interconnected, leading me toward a deeper understanding of who I was and why I was here.

The cat's gaze returned to me, its eyes gleaming with curiosity. "How about we give you a name? A name that captures the essence of your dream and this mysterious marking?"

I nodded, intrigued by the idea. "What name do you suggest?"

The cat's whiskers twitched, and a mischievous smile tugged at its lips. "How about 'Blur'?"

I blinked in surprise, the word resonating with the dream I had shared. "Blur? Why Blur?"

The cat's eyes twinkled as it explained, "Your dream about the cold ice, the numbness, and the blurry air—it all seems to tie in with this name. Besides, names are just labels, and sometimes, it's the essence of a dream that truly defines who we are. What do you think?"

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Blur... It's different, but it feels right. Maybe that's who I am here."

And so, within the enigmatic library, surrounded by the mysteries of knowledge and the wisdom of the cat, I embraced my new identity as Blur—

6

"Why don't I show you around?" the cat suggested with a gleam of excitement in its eyes. Without waiting for my response, it gracefully led the way back through the sterile white hallway of the facility, devoid of any artistry, its plain design speaking to its utilitarian purpose.

We found ourselves at a T-junction, with six identical rooms featuring futuristic frosted glass-like doors, each numbered but otherwise indistinguishable.

As we walked, the cat's tail swayed gently behind it, and its steps were silent against the smooth floor. The corridor felt clinical and cold, lacking the warmth of the library. We reached the rooms, and the cat turned to me, its eyes twinkling. "This place is where you'll be sleeping, a private space within this facility."

I nodded, taking in the surroundings. The cat's words echoed in my mind, emphasizing that the rooms were for rest and solitude, rather than exploration. It was a stark contrast to the library's vibrant tapestry of knowledge.

"But how do I access the knowledge, like in the library?" I asked, curious about the change in dynamic.

The cat's expression grew contemplative. "In this facility, everything is for use, like in the library. These rooms are designed to allow you to reflect and process what you've learned. Or like I said 'it’s a private space'."

I absorbed this information, recognizing the shift from the library's active exploration to a more introspective setting.

"Since you're the first to arrive," the cat continued, "you have the privilege of choosing one of these rooms as your own."

I felt a mix of gratitude and uncertainty, appreciating the choice while still grappling with the implications of this new environment.

"But are you sure it's okay?" I asked, seeking reassurance.

The cat's eyes held a hint of reassurance. "Absolutely. This room is your canvas, a space for you to shape and make your own."

Ding—dong... Ding... Ding… Dong…

As we were about to move toward the rooms, an eerily sounded bell suddenly rang out, its source unknown. I looked upwards instinctively, trying to locate the source, but when I turned back to the cat, it was nowhere to be found.

"Hmm. Cat?" What was the cat's name again?

I recalled that I had forgotten to ask him what his name was once more.

Confusion and uncertainty gripped me as I looked around, searching for any sign of the cat.

After a brief moment, I noticed that it had disappeared completely.

Feeling a mix of emotions, I finally decided to explore one of the rooms. I stepped through the door and found myself in a minimalist bedroom, the white walls unadorned and the furniture functional.

The room exuded a sense of isolation, and a cool light emanated from the ceiling.

Disappointment welled up within me. I had hoped for something more inspiring or exciting, but this room felt stark and remote. The other rooms probably had the same setting.

I sighed and walked over to the bed, sinking onto it.

The white sheets were cool against my skin, and as exhaustion overcame me, I realized just how tired I was.

As I lay down, the bed embraced me like a comforting embrace. I closed my eyes and let my weariness take over, drifting into a peaceful sleep under the sterile light of the room.

The mysteries of the library and the cat's guidance faded into the background as dreams began to dance across my mind, each one a glimpse into the unknown.