The first thing Ash became aware of was a muffled sound, like a distant voice filtered through a thick wall. The noise echoed in his ears, muddled and accompanied by an incessant ringing that made it hard to think. His mind felt hazy, like he had just been rudely jolted from a deep sleep, but he couldn't remember falling asleep. Where was he? And who was speaking?
The ringing began to subside, and the sounds sharpened into a voice—soft, yet firm and commanding. The voice of a young woman, speaking in a tone that demanded attention. Slowly, Ash's surroundings started to come into focus. He was standing, rigid and still, behind an opulent armchair. The red leather gleamed, rich and polished, and the fur draped over it was luxurious, clearly taken from some exotic beast.
The fireplace crackled, its warmth permeating the room, while a grand chandelier hung above, casting a soft glow over the polished mahogany table and the array of elegant couches that encircled it.
Before him, seated in the armchair, was the source of the voice. A young lady with long, silver hair that cascaded down her back, catching the light like strands of moonlight. She was facing away from him, but her presence was powerful, even without seeing her face. Ash was struck, dumbfounded, unable to process what was happening. The confusion gnawed at him—where was he?
"Did you hear me?" The young lady's voice cut through the fog in his mind, sharper now. "The communication orb. Bring it to me."
The words were clear this time, carrying an air of elegance and authority. But he couldn't move, couldn't respond. His mind was racing, piecing together fragmented thoughts and memories that refused to align.
The lady's impatience grew. She turned her head slightly upward, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "I heard you had an accident 2 days ago," she said, her voice dripping with irritation. "It seems you still need some time off."
Ash's breath caught in his throat. He knew that face. The flawless skin, the long lashes framing cold, calculating eyes—it was all too familiar. He leaned in closer, almost involuntarily, his eyes tracing every feature of her face as if seeing her for the first time. He twisted and turned, examining her from every angle. Even her reaction to his proximity was strikingly familiar.
The lady's expression shifted, her frown deepening as she stared back at him with growing annoyance. Then, suddenly, she smiled—a devious, chilling smile that sent a shiver down Ash's spine. It was the same smile, the very same he had seen countless times before.
Ash's mind reeled. This couldn't be real. It was just a game... wasn't it? He recalled coming home, exhausted, and collapsing into his chair, eager to speed-run Royal Affections. The day had slipped away, and somehow, he'd fallen asleep. But now, he was here, standing in a castle, serving a lady who should only exist within a screen.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft, eerie voice. "... you've lost your mind."
A sudden movement caught his eye. Above the lady's head, a large, shimmering ball of ice began to form, growing rapidly. Ash's eyes widened in horror as he realized what was happening, but before he could react, the ice dropped, hurtling toward him.
The impact was instant and brutal. A sharp, cold pain exploded in his head, and everything went dark.