Chapter 1

She tried to pinch herself, but the pain that shot through her arm was all too real. This wasn't a dream. She stared at the mirror, taking in the sight of a girl who looked to be about sixteen or seventeen years old, with pale pink hair and striking cyan pupils. The reflection was unfamiliar, but it was undoubtedly hers.

The room she found herself in was simple and almost empty, but the design was distinctly old-fashioned. Every detail of the room spoke of another era, a time long past. The air was filled with the faint scent of lavender and old books, mingling with the polish of the wooden furniture. She stepped closer to the mirror, trying to make sense of the reflection staring back at her.

"I must have died," she whispered to herself, the realization sinking in. "But why am I still here?"

The door creaked open, and a girl with brown hair entered. She looked to be around her age.

"Why are you still in your nightgown? We have to help in the kitchen," she said, walking towards her. Instinctively, she backed away.

"Who are you?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice.

"It's me, Bernie," the girl replied, clearly puzzled by her question.

"I've never heard that name before in my life," she insisted, raising a broom defensively as Bernie tried to approach her.

"What's gotten into you? Are you feeling alright?" Bernie reached out a hand, trying to calm her down, but she kept her distance.

"I'm supposed to be dead. Why am I here? Where is this place?" she demanded, the frustration and confusion bubbling up inside her.

"Lynx, you're not making any sense. Put the broom down, and I'll take you to see Miss Delaney," Bernie said, her voice soothing but concerned.

"Lynx? That's not my name," she protested, but as she thought the name, a sharp pain shot through her head, causing her to drop the broom and clutch her head in agony.

As her vision blurred and the pain overwhelmed her, she felt Bernie's arms around her, the girl's voice filled with panic as she called for help.

When Lynx woke up, everything had changed. She was in a park, surrounded by flowers and the sound of children playing. A little girl with pale pink hair and cyan eyes ran past her, closely followed by a brown-haired girl who looked remarkably like Bernie.

She watched as they played, the scene unfolding before her like a surreal painting. Then, she heard a woman's voice calling out their names.

"Lynx! Bernie! Time to go back," the woman called, and Lynx found herself standing where the child version of Lynx had been moments before. She felt smaller, as if she had become a child herself.

"Let's go, Lynx," Bernie said, taking her hand as they ran towards the woman with the blurry face.

"Did you both have fun?" the woman asked, her voice gentle.

"Yes, Miss Delaney!" Bernie replied, her voice filled with joy.

"And you, Lynx? Did you enjoy your time here?" the woman asked, her gaze piercing through Lynx.

"Yes!" Lynx replied, unable to resist the cheerfulness in her voice.

Despite being inside Lynx's body, Kim Seo-ah felt as if she had no control over it. It was like watching a movie, unable to change the course of events. The sensation was disconcerting, as if she were a passenger in her own body, observing but unable to act.

Lynx approached the woman and handed her a crown made of freesia flowers.

"I made this for you, Miss Delaney," she said, placing the crown on her head. As she did, the woman's face became clear, and Lynx was struck by her beauty.

"Lynx," Miss Delaney said, placing her hand on Lynx's cheek, "you have to wake up."

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The vivid dream-like state began to fade. When Lynx opened her eyes, she was no longer in the same room where she had first woken up. Instead, she found herself in a cozy, warmly lit room filled with bookshelves and soft furniture. The faint scent of lavender still lingered in the air, mingling with the smell of old books and polished wood.

As Lynx sat up, her head throbbed, and she felt disoriented. The light from the window suggested it was still morning.

"Lynx? Are you awake?" Bernie's voice came from beside her. She was sitting on a chair, looking worried. "You fainted, we're in Miss Delaney's room right now."

The door opened, and a woman with long black hair entered. Her presence was calming, and Lynx immediately recognized her as the woman from the vision.

"How are you feeling, Lynx?" she asked gently, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing a cool hand on Lynx's forehead.

"What's happening to me?" Lynx asked, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't know who Lynx is. I don't know where I am."

Miss Delaney looked at her with a mix of concern and confusion. "Memory loss can sometimes happen after a severe illness. You had a high fever a few days ago, and I think it might have caused you to lose some of your memories. It's possible you're experiencing something like that."

[But i remembered dying; I was someone else entirely. This wasn't my body.] She thought.

Miss Delaney squeezed Lynx's hand gently. "Don't worry. I'm sure your memories will come back. For now, try to rest. They may return with time."

A minute later, there was a knock at the door, and another girl Lynx hadn't seen before entered the room and whispered something to Miss Delaney. As the girl whispered, Miss Delaney's expression changed, a flicker of worry passing over her face.

But when she looked back at Lynx and Bernie, she wore her usual calm expression. "I have matters I need to attend to. Bernie, can you look after Lynx for me?"

"Don't worry, Miss Delaney. I'll take care of her," Bernie answered with a smile.

Miss Delaney was about to leave the room when she looked back at them. "Don't come out of this room until I return, are we clear?"

Lynx just nodded, but a nagging suspicion tugged at the back of her mind. There was something wrong with Miss Delaney.

A few hours after Miss Delaney left, extreme boredom set in. Bernie nagged Lynx to stay in bed whenever she tried to get up, her concern palpable.

As Lynx drifted off, fragments of the vision she saw earlier played in her mind.

[Could it be fragments of Lynx's memory from the past? Then, why did she just see that?]

Lynx looked at Bernie, who was dozing in the chair beside the bed. She took the chance to stand up and looked around the room, trying to find clues that might help her piece together the puzzle of her new reality. There were photos on a small table near the window. They showed two girls, one with pale pink hair and cyan eyes, the other with brown hair. They were smiling, arms wrapped around each other.

Lynx studied the photo, trying to force a connection. But it still felt like looking at strangers. She searched more around the room but couldn't find anything else for another clue.

[I need more information.]

Lynx walked to the door and carefully opened it to avoid waking Bernie. When she stepped out, she slowly closed the door behind her. The hallway was eerily quiet, and the air felt heavy with secrets.

As Lynx explored, she saw a figure of a woman across the hallway, holding a tray full of liquor. She thought it was a dead end where the woman stood, but the woman turned right, and Lynx realized there was a staircase leading underground.

She could feel that whatever was down there wasn't going to be good. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she might find something important. With cautious steps, Lynx followed the woman, staying hidden in the shadows.

As Lynx descended the staircase, the air grew cooler, and the faint sound of murmuring voices reached her ears. The walls were lined with old, faded tapestries, and the scent of damp earth and stone replaced the lavender from upstairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, Lynx found herself in a dimly lit corridor. The voices were clearer now, though still indistinct. She crept forward, her heart pounding in her chest. The corridor opened into a large, dank room, filled with cages and chains.

The sight before her was harrowing. Dozens of people, young and old, were locked in cages, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow with despair. Some had shackles around their ankles; others bore fresh scars and bruises. The room reeked of fear and suffering.

One of the captives, a young girl with matted hair, looked up and saw Lynx. "Help us," she whispered, her voice weak. "Please..."

Lynx took a step back, horror washing over her. This was no ordinary basement—it was a prison, a place where human lives were being traded and exploited. The reality of the situation hit her hard, and she realized the gravity of what she had stumbled upon.

In the center, a group of people were gathered around a table, their faces obscured by the flickering candlelight. Lynx stayed hidden in the shadows, trying to make out their conversation. As she strained to listen, one phrase stood out, sending a chill down her spine.

"That pink-haired girl will fetch a high price," a man's voice declared.

"Are you sure she's worth the trouble? I don't want to embarrass ourselves in front of our clients," another man replied skeptically.

"Absolutely. Am I right, Miss Delaney?" the first man said, causing Lynx's heart to skip a beat at the mention of her name.

"Yes, my lord. Lynx is very unique, the best quality of them all. I'm certain she will be highly desirable to our clients," Miss Delaney's unmistakable voice confirmed.

Lynx's heart pounded in her chest as the reality of their words sank in.

[They were planning to sell me, just like the others trapped here.]

As Lynx backed away, trying to process what she had heard, she accidentally knocked over a small crate. The clattering sound echoed through the room, and the murmuring voices fell silent.

"Who's there?" the man called out, his voice filled with suspicion.

Lynx turned and ran, her heart pounding, the corridor stretching endlessly before her. She raced up the stairs, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and burst back into Miss Delaney's room, slamming the door behind her.

Bernie woke with a start. "Lynx, what happened? You look terrified!"