"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk." A familiar woman clicked her tongue repeatedly at the sight of him.

Mark struggled to push himself off the ground, but he eventually managed to stand up.

His legs trembled.

They were about to collapse under his weight.

Not wanting to fall to the ground, Mark leaned against the bed at his side.

His legs gave out nonetheless.

"How does it feel," A familiar voice resonated. "To be back here?"

A woman he had seen in a dream.

A woman he once knew.

Mark looked around.

A room he once knew too.

Dread immediately filled him.

But at the same time,

"Comfortable, isn't it?" The woman asked. "A bed. A window. Even air conditioning."

Mark remained silent, and the woman talked slowly, as if to give him the time necessary to look around.

"You wouldn't have to worry about the cold. Not about the heat. Your every need, tended to. No one would beat you up here. No need to worry about a thing. No Monsters or Beasts. You wouldn't have to fight. You wouldn't have to struggle. You wouldn't have to-"

"Yet..." Mark interrupted with a low voice. "I still died."

"Right."

"Is my body moving...? Out... There...?"

The woman chuckled brightly.

"That's what worries you?"

Mark didn't respond.

"No... No. You're not moving out there. You've been knocked out for a bit. That's all."

Mark's eyes stared at the woman's face, before scanning the room.

And as his eyes scanned the room, his arms pulled on the bed's sheets.

He slowly climbed up the bed's edge, perhaps without even meaning to do so.

It was soft and warm.

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" Mark asked.

"No reason for you to doubt my words."

He stared at her for a bit.

"Who are you?"

"You know me already."

"I don't."

"Of course you do. My name is-"

"You're not her." Mark interrupted.

"Right... That's right." The woman took her time. "But if I'm not her... Then who am I, my dear Mark?"

A dream? A nightmare?

No. Once again, it couldn't be that.

Then-

"You can't answer that, can you?" The woman asked after a moment.

"My... Memories of her? Something..."

"Tsss. Come on, Mark. You know that's no answer."

Mark agreed, but didn't say a thing.

Memories of her? He couldn't truly think that.

After all, there wasn't a thing he could remember about her.

The woman lay her hands on the small and round table behind her.

With a hop, she took a seat.

Mark's eyebrow twitched.

He felt disgusted for a moment.

A familiar setting.

Her, seated on the table.

Him-

"I must admit," She crossed her legs. "I'm disappointed. Especially after our last conversation."

"Who are you?"

"Why does it matter? Why would it matter to you, when you can't even say who you are?"

A smile was drawn on the woman's face as Mark remained silent.

"I'll live however I want to. Act however I decide to. Freely. That's what you told me, remember? And I thought you would do good on your promise."

Mark sighed internally.

With no way to forcibly wake himself up, all he could was play along.

"I am. Doing good on that promise."

"Are you? Perhaps for a bit, but didn't you put your life on the line to protect something?"

"That was different. And doesn't go against-"

"Of course, it does, Mark. You said you wouldn't be held back. That you would act freely. But having to protect something weaker... That's quite the constraining link, isn't it? As if that wasn't enough, you started doing it more and more."

Mark shook his head. Perhaps an attempt to wake himself up. He could picture Zephyr's Spear approaching him, getting closer and closer with every passing second.

"Even now, you keep those hidden. Protected. Mm... But I can't criticize you, can I? After all, you prefer it that way. Fighting alone. Freely. You like that, don't you?"

Mark stared for a bit.

"Sure."

"It was fun, wasn't it? Fighting that Berserker. Fighting the Fire Spirit."

Mark lowered his gaze, before answering.

"It was."

"You've had tons and tons of fun inside this Dungeon, right? Sure, there was some pain and fear along the way. But overall, it was fun."

He clenched his teeth.

"Right."

"The most fun you've ever had, right?"

His hands grasped the sheets he lay upon.

"Answer me, Mark. This was the most fun you've ever had, wasn't it?"

Suddenly, the white scales that covered his body turned into weightless particles of light and floated upwards.

Upwards, and away from him.

Five seconds later, the woman pointed her index fingers towards him.

"Bang... Bang..."

Two holes appeared on Mark's body.

He wasn't scared.

It didn't even faze him.

Holes through his body.

He had seen that plenty of times already.

The woman brought her index fingers towards her mouth.

And as if they were guns from which smoke was being released. 

Phew-

She blew the "smoke" away.

Mark couldn't help but chuckle at the theatrics.

"What's this supposed to be?"

Her right hand rotated.

Her right index finger came into contact with her left thumb.

Her left index finger with her right thumb.

She raised her fingers, so that the rectangle they made took the role of a frame around her green vibrant eye.

"You're being recorded, so make sure you tell the truth."

Scales, horns, fangs, wings, tail, muscles.

Everything had disappeared from Mark's body, without him even being aware.

He laughed out loud.

"Yeah... Yeah. It was the most fun I've ever had."

She turned her face and, therefore, the frame in front of her eye towards a wall.

Mark followed her gaze.

A mirror.

And on it, Mark could see himself.

His old self.

All of his past weakness. His past fragility.

Long black hair in which he seemed to drown.

Narrow shoulders. Thin upper limbs.

And his legs.

Is there even a need to describe those?

"The most fun you ever had, right?"

"Yeah."

"It was fun for a while. Now, answer me this. How does it feel..."

Mark's hands twitched.

"To be back here?"

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