Is she dead?

   Slowly, I opened my eyes.

   The ceiling above me wasn’t made of metal or white panels like I had grown used to. It was wood—old wooden beams running across it, giving the place a rustic, quiet atmosphere. I blinked a few times, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the soft light filtering into the room, and tried to piece together where I was. But no matter how long I have been thinking, I have no connection to how I got here.

   I sat up with a low groan. The bed creaked under me, and the air smelled... different. Not recycled or clinical, but like real wood, dirt, fresh leaves—something natural and alive.

   The room was simple. A bed. A wooden bookcase filled with random junk. A small trash bin. A large window took up nearly an entire wall, sunlight streaming through it. It felt far removed from everything—peaceful in a way that felt unnatural after what I’d been through.

   I stood up and walked to the window. When I pushed it open, a cool breeze hit my face. I leaned out slightly, scanning the view.

   Forest. As far as the eye could see.

   No roads. No fences. No buildings. Just trees swaying gently in the wind like the world itself was asleep. I stared for a moment before stepping away. I didn’t know what this place was, but it wasn’t anywhere I remembered.

   I turned back to the room and noticed a door opposite the bed. I opened it and found a narrow wooden staircase leading downward. The steps groaned under my weight as I walked, creaking with every movement.

   At the bottom, I entered what looked like a large living room with a kitchenette on the side. The same polished wooden floors. Beamed walls. Cozy, like something out of an old book. A stone fireplace sat on one side, and a giant TV—clearly too big for this small place—stood against the far wall.

   But it wasn’t the TV that caught my attention.

   There, lying sprawled out on the couch, was a woman. She had dark hair that flowed over the armrest, her lab coat hanging loosely over her shoulders. The coat was open, revealing a fitted tank top underneath, and a high-waisted skirt that clung to her figure. Her flip-flops were scattered on the floor, one dangling precariously from her foot.

   I stepped closer and leaned down slightly. She wasn’t moving.

   “...Is she dead?”

   I lightly tapped her shoulder. No response.

   “Hey.”

   Still nothing.

   I raised an eyebrow. “Yep. She’s dead.”

   I folded my hands in front of me and gave her a short bow. “Rest in peace, beautiful Onee-san.”

   Right as I said it, she twitched.

   "Whoa?!" I panicked, but then quickly realized that she was probably just in a very deep sleep.

   Phew, she's alive.

   She shifted slightly, slow and clumsy like someone waking from a nap she wasn’t planning to end. For a second, it looked like she’d fall back asleep—then she rolled right off the couch with a loud thud.

   “Gah—ow,” she groaned into the wooden floor.

   I stared. “Uh… You okay?”

   She groaned again and pushed herself up slowly, rubbing the side of her head. After a few seconds, she finally looked at me.

   “Oh, you’re awake already?” she said, blinking at me.

   I didn’t know what to say. I was still trying to make sense of this situation.

   “…Who are you?” I asked.

   Instead of answering, she waved toward the kitchen table. “How about we sit? Let’s have a breakfast first.”

   Without waiting for a response, she put on her flip-flops and headed toward the kitchenette. I hesitated, but eventually sat down. She looked at me taking a seat and then started cooking.

   A few minutes later, we sat across from each other. The food was simple—eggs, some bread, vegetables—but it smelled surprisingly good. When I took a bite, I was even more surprised by the taste.

   “This is… really good,” I muttered.

   She smiled, proud. “Of course it is. It’s my specialty.”

   We ate in silence, though I caught her glancing at me more than once. After finishing, I set down my utensils and wiped my mouth.

   “Thanks for the meal,” I said. “Going back to the topic... Who are you?”

   She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, smirking slightly. “Is that really what you wanted to ask?”

   The way she said it made me pause.

   Before I could say anything, her eyes locked onto mine—calm but sharp, like she could see straight through me.

   Damn it.

   Her way of talking, how she avoids answering my question, that look on her face...

   She is like him.

   And then everything came back. Something snapped inside me.

   “…Why didn’t you let me die?”

   Her expression didn’t change. She just tilted her head. “You were still alive, weren’t you? It only made sense to pull you out of there.”

   She said it like she was talking about picking up some apples from under the tree.

   "—ked you...” I muttered.

   “Hmm?”

   “I said no one asked you!”

   My fist slammed against the table. The plates rattled. My voice rose without warning.

   “I was ready to die there!”

   She didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just watched.

   “I’ve suffered too much, you hear me?” My hands clenched. My voice shook, but I didn’t stop. “I’m tired. I’ve had enough. I didn’t want to be saved.”

   The silence that followed was sharp.

   She didn’t argue. She didn’t comfort me.

   Instead, she said quietly, “I don’t know what you went through... But there’s still light in your eyes.”

   I froze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

   “If you really wanted to die...” she continued, leaning forward slightly. “You had plenty of time while I was asleep. I wasn’t exactly in a position to stop you.” She paused, studying me closely. “But you didn’t.”

   I didn’t respond.

   That silence came again—this time heavier. The truth in her words burned more than any speech could have.

   “So what’s keeping you alive?” she asked. “There’s something, isn’t there?”

   I looked down. “I don’t know where to start…”

   But I started anyway.

   I told her everything.

   About the company. About my family. The betrayal. The isolation. The facility. The experiments... THAT disaster.

   And Zeno, the only real friend I ever had—ripped away like everything else.

   “I can’t die yet,” I said, the words coming out steady. “I have to know what happened that night. I need to find out who did this."

   Suddenly one thought came to my mind. "I need to find the director!”

   She listened.

   And after a pause, she said, “I see.”

   Then she stood up, running a hand through her messy hair. “I’m an inventor,” she said casually, as if the whole conversation we just had hadn’t happened. “And I need an assistant.”

   “…What?”

   “In return, I’ll help you find him,” she said casually. “I have contacts. They might know something. You help me—I help you.”

   I narrowed my eyes. “Why should I trust you?”

   “You don’t have to.” She shrugged, her tone matter-of-fact. “Trust isn’t about blind faith. True trust comes from a doubt. Besides,” she added with a smile, “if you help me, you get free meals and a place to sleep.”

   After a few moments, I sighed and nodded. I had to agree, finding place to sleep and eat would be troublesome. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

   She held out her hand. “Then it’s a deal.”

   I hesitated for just a second, then shook her hand. Her grip was firm, confident.

   “So,” She said, glancing at me. “Would you please tell me your name?”

   “…Sora,” I said quietly. “Just Sora.”

   She smiled softly, a little more warmth in her expression now. “Sora... That’s a nice name.”

   There was a brief pause before she continued, her voice calm, almost gentle. “My name is Zephyra. Zephyra Naberius.”

   “Zephyra...”

   She nodded, her smile lingering. “Nice to meet you, Sora.”

   I nodded slightly, feeling a bit more grounded now. “Let’s work well together.”

   As the silence settled, I couldn’t help but think about her name. It wasn’t one I’d heard before. “That’s... kind of an unusual name, isn’t it?”

   She tilted her head, a small, amused grin playing on her lips. “Unusual?” she repeated, as if the idea amused her. “In this world, it’s a perfectly normal name.”

   ...

   ...That last part made me pause.

   This world?

   “What do you mean by... this world? ” I asked, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

   Something about the way she said it didn’t sit right with me. Zephyra leaned back in her chair, completely unbothered by my confusion.

   “I mean exactly that. You’re in another world.” I stared at her, my brain struggling to catch up.

   “Another... world?” Her words hung in the air, my thoughts spinning in circles.

   Nothing made sense anymore.

   “Eeeeeeehhh?!”

   That was how my new life in another world has started…