"You are my favorite student, Hewinia."
"Hew~inia~"
"If you're not content, then grab my hand. And then swear your allegiance to me."
"This girl is mine now."
...
Hewinia's eyes snapped open.
A swath of pallor invaded her field of vision, but it wasn't snow—it was the ceiling.
Familiar yet foreign—the ceiling.
She felt like she had endured a lengthy nightmare, to the point where she was still uncertain whether she had actually awakened from it.
Her mind was groggy, her body uncomfortable; drenched in a cold sweat, the only sounds echoing in her ears were her own heavy breathing and...
"It seems you didn't sleep very well."
That familiar, leisurely "inner voice."
Another's voice coming from deep within her soul.
With that inner voice came memories.
Gradually, Hewinia began to recall everything, including the pit of corpses that she wasn't sure was a dream or reality.
