When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was her own arm, shrivelled up like a dry twig in winter. She couldn't believe it was hers, it shouldn't be hers.
But the tiny fingers betrayed her expectations, folding and unfolding at will. It was definitely her hand.
'How long had I been lying here?'
Park Hana, 32. The first three-time UFC women's champion and World Powerlifting Federation women's 72-kilogram world record holder. Her arms used to be as strong as steel and as thick as the trunks of old trees.
But what was that thing moving in front of her now? A puppet?
Hana calmly searched her memory. The last thing she remembered was a powerful shock and pain, right in the crown of her head.
That was it. That's what knocked her out.
Apparently, she had suffered a head injury and was in a prolonged coma. Judging by the amount of muscle loss, it can't be a day or two days.
'This is a lot of muscle loss. There will be a hard time getting back to my original physicality.'
That was her first concern: the muscles that had been with her all her adult life were gone.
It wasn't just a loss. The muscles were her best friends, the ones that built and sustained her as a professional athlete.
But I couldn't stay heartbroken. What was lost was lost. What mattered was what was left.
She was still alive. And she could move her hands and feet.
As long as she lived, the muscles could be rebuilt. She's older now, so she can't do what she used to do, but even if she went from 100 to 1, not being 0 was a huge difference.
'Need to call a caregiver....'
Hana turned her head and looked around. She didn't know what kind of hospital this was, but she wanted to call a caregiver and let them know she'd regained consciousness, so they could find the nurse or doctor in charge.
But then she realized something wasn't right.
A hospital? This place?
There were no white tiles, which is what most people think of when they think of a hospital. As far as she could see, the ceiling was black wood.
No, no. It wasn't a ceiling.
It was the lid of a four-poster bed. And in the corner of her vision, a pillar rose up from the top of the bed.
From the roof of the bed, a long lace fabric descended, obscuring the view.
The lace was very thin. So thin that she could barely see through it.
And the bed was enormous. Hana reached out, but she couldn't grasp the lace. Her arms couldn't reach it.
She should have felt strange, but she didn't. Instead, she felt compelled to check her surroundings.
'Let's stand up.'
She tried to lift her waist. Her back lifted.
But it's hard. It's like her abs had completely disappeared, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't sit up straight.
Inevitably, one rolled to the side instead of lifting her back. Luckily, this maneuver was doable.
One and a half turns to the side, Hana barely managed to grab the end of the race and flip it to the side. It was awkward, but somehow the whole body, from head to toe, moved.
'What the hack is this?'
What lay beyond the lace was not a hospital scene either. The first thing she saw was luxurious furniture made of solid wood, with the grain of the wood still intact.
When she lowered her gaze, she saw a large carpet on the floor. It looked expensive.
'Seriously, what is all this?'
Moving to the edge of the bed, Hana realized that the floor was a long way off. Could she get off the bed and stand upright?
Grabbing the edge of the bed with both hands, she put both feet down. Slowly, slowly, firmly.
She could lean against the bed and stand. But walking?
'I can do THIS? but how?'
She staggered, but she was able to stand upright and walk.
It was strange. If she had been in a coma long enough to lose this much muscle, her leg muscles would have degenerated.
Moreover, the last time she'd walked was at least months, maybe years ago, and she could walk?
'First things first.'
The strangeness of it all overloaded her brain. It was hard to put things in perspective.
Hana moved toward the mirror as if mesmerized. The dressing table was far away, like 100 meters away.
Finally, she reached the mirror. Looking in the mirror, there was....
"Who is this."
The situation was too ridiculous not to say what Hana thought.
There was a girl, maybe ten years old. She had long, bouncy hair, fair skin, and was as pretty as a doll.
She certainly didn't have the face of a woman over thirty. She might have lost muscle over the years, but have not lost ages.
'I thought my limbs were short, but it's not thought! They were actually short!'
She was confused, unable to organize her thoughts. She could have noticed it before she looked in the mirror, but she didn't.
She suddenly felt dizzy. She stumbled and barely managed to hold on to her vanity. At that moment, the door opened and someone walked in.
"Lady Kalia, my lady, you are awake!"
"Who the hell is Lady Kalia..."
Hana couldn't stop her eyes from fluttering shut and she fell unconscious again. Even as she was drowning, she could hear the commotion around her.
Footsteps, shouts, and a scream for a doctor.
'Feels gonna crazy. Or already crazed.'