"Your test results are in. We have a few questions to ask you directly. Of course, if there are any questions you'd prefer not to answer, that's your right," Chén Shào said evenly as he entered the room.
Mithra, seated in the stark yet tidy room, nodded impassively, her expression unreadable.
Chén Shào placed the completed forms on the table, sitting down opposite her. His gaze flicked between the papers and Mithra.
"Your general knowledge is quite impressive," he began. "You can solve advanced mathematical problems with ease. Your way of thinking aligns closely with the patterns of those from Planet Blue. In fact, your test results suggest you received an education here. But..." He paused, looking directly at her. "You seem entirely unfamiliar with this place, don't you?"
Mithra nodded once, her gaze steady.
"But you also didn't grow up in Dreamland," Chén Shào continued. "Your knowledge and impressions of it are sparse, far less detailed than your understanding of 'Planet Blue'."
Again, Mithra nodded.
"It's remarkable, truly." Chén Shào leaned back slightly, his tone shifting to one of curiosity. "Could you describe your impression of 'Planet Blue' in more detail?"
Mithra paused, deliberating her words, then began to recount the image of her familiar Earth. She spoke with deliberate clarity, her description vivid yet precise.
Chén Shào listened intently, not interrupting until she finished. He nodded slowly. "A deep understanding. Your knowledge of this 'Earth' is indistinguishable from that of someone who grew up there. However..." His voice softened. "Though it's strikingly similar, what you described is not our Planet Blue."
Mithra's expression didn't shift. She nodded again, her calm demeanor unwavering.
Chén Shào rested his hands on the table, his gaze thoughtful. "I won't make any judgments about you. The existence of Dreamland has already fractured many of Planet Blue's long-held worldviews. That fracture only deepens as we learn more."
He straightened. "In short, if you truly come from a parallel world, then until you find a way back, we hope you can establish a place for yourself here."
His tone was unexpectedly gentle, almost welcoming. It caught Mithra off guard. She had braced for skepticism, perhaps even accusations of madness. Yet, Chén Shào displayed no such inclination, his words carrying no edge of doubt or dismissal.
With the primary questions addressed, Chén Shào's inquiries shifted.
"Your regenerative abilities are extraordinary. Could you explain their origin?"
Mithra gave a vague account, sidestepping specifics but offering enough to satisfy curiosity.
"What about your miracles? Where did you learn them, and which have you mastered?"
Mithra didn't withhold this information. She recounted her abilities plainly, her tone devoid of embellishment.
Chén Shào listened carefully, meticulously taking notes.
After a pause, he spoke again, his voice more direct. "Your descriptions of life-or-death combat are consistent with your results. It seems your experiences align with what you've reported."
Mithra met his gaze. "I act when necessary. Nothing more."
"Regardless of whether your opponent is human or not?"
"Regardless of whether they're human or not," Mithra affirmed.
Chén Shào's face remained neutral as he considered her words. "Since the opening of contact between Dreamland and Planet Blue, the ethics of such actions have grown increasingly complex. For many, the dominant view is that it's justifiable for Planet Blue citizens to kill Dreamland citizens. After all, many don't even consider Dreamland inhabitants as 'people.' Furthermore, Planet Blue's laws don't extend into Dreamland, rendering most legal discussions moot."
His tone shifted, adopting a note of caution. "Still, now that you're on Planet Blue, we hope you'll adhere to our laws and regulations. It's a matter of coexistence."
Mithra's response was succinct. "I understand. I've already said—it's only a matter of necessity."
Chén Shào seemed satisfied. He set his pen down and straightened. "I have no further questions. Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Mithra."
He stood, extending a hand. "Your residency procedures will take time to process. In the meantime, we'll arrange for you to receive supplementary education here at Shuǐxiù University. This will help you familiarize yourself with Planet Blue and integrate into society."
He added, "Until your residency is finalized, we recommend staying on campus. You won't face strict restrictions, but avoiding unnecessary conflict is advisable. Once your education and examinations are complete, you'll officially receive your Planet Blue residency."
He smiled warmly. "Welcome back—no, welcome to the Planet Blue family."
Mithra rose to shake his hand briefly.
Afterward, Chén Shào departed, leaving an assistant to escort Mithra to her assigned accommodations.
The room was modest but well-furnished, equivalent to a high-end hotel suite. It lacked a kitchen, with meals intended to be taken at the dining hall.
Mithra secured the key, her motions methodical, and proceeded to bathe.
It was her first proper bath in ages, far removed from the makeshift miracles Safin had conjured in the mines. She scrubbed away every trace of dirt, the water a quiet sanctuary after endless battles.
Emerging from the bathroom, her skin warm and clean, she stood before the mirror.
Mithra had an athletic build, her frame lean yet strong, with muscles that hinted at a life of rigorous training rather than idle luxury. Her long hair, though clean, was slightly disheveled from neglect. Finding a stray hair tie by the sink, she swept her hair back, securing it without much thought.
Her features were striking—sharp and refined, the kind of face that could easily belong to a spirited and charming youth. Yet, the effect was undone by her icy demeanor. Her cold, emotionless expression clashed with her otherwise vibrant appearance. Her eyes, dark and unnervingly hollow, seemed to drink in light rather than reflect it. At first glance, they appeared normal, but prolonged scrutiny revealed a depth that sent shivers through the spine.
The room felt empty—silent, devoid of any intrusive gaze. Mithra, trained as a believer, would have sensed any surveillance easily. Such detection was second nature to her, and this space seemed devoid of prying eyes.
Standing before the mirror, she fell still.
Then, slowly, she lowered her head, her reflection flickering faintly in the polished glass.
The skin on her hands began to retract, peeling back unnaturally, revealing flesh beneath. What should have been healthy pink tissue blackened in an instant, shifting into something alien and sinister. A dark energy seeped out of her, wrapping around her like a living shroud.
When Mithra lifted her gaze again, her vision was sharper, clearer than ever before—even beyond what the blessings of Lebaance had granted her. Her hands, now long and thin, bore grotesque clarity in the glass. Her left index finger stood out unnaturally, far longer than the rest, with claws that gleamed wickedly at its tip.
Her reflection no longer showed a young girl but a blackened, desiccated figure. Her face was skeletal, her empty eye sockets alive with swirling black matter that shifted and churned.
"This is me?" she murmured, her voice soft but weighty.
Her clawed hand touched her head, her fingers gliding over the ridges of her altered skull.
The form staring back at her was hideous, a grotesque distortion that no ordinary person would accept. It was utterly unique, utterly alone.
The truth of her form—this monstrous reality—settled heavily within her. A flicker of unease rippled through her heart, but she stilled it, quashing the emotion before it could take hold.
This body was strong. Stronger than she had ever been. It carried the weight of all she had suppressed—her solitude, her longing for a distant home, her refusal to succumb to despair. All of it had fused into this form, creating something extraordinary.
The name whispered itself to her consciousness: Stranger.
A black dot hovered before her, one that seemed to pulse with intent. It wasn't an external force but a part of her, a fragment of this new self. Her Night Eyes, typically able to read the nature of unclaimed objects, activated involuntarily, revealing a truth she hadn't sought.
["Stranger": Drawn into this world by a miracle, separated from their homeland, altered by a miracle, their essence accumulating, finally transforming and activating miracles in the darkness. This might be a fledgling god.]
Mithra let the words settle in her mind, her gaze lingering on her elongated claws and sinewy form. The power coursing through her was undeniable. This body, though grotesque, surpassed her previous self in every measure of physical strength. Even her Reinforce Body technique paled in comparison to the raw potency of Stranger.
And yet, the form had limitations. It rejected Nature miracles entirely, a dullness in its connection to the world around her. Even intermediaries, which she had relied upon previously, were silent. It was a strange paradox—greater strength yet diminished sensitivity.
Mithra stared into the mirror for a moment longer, then let the transformation ebb. In the blink of an eye, the monstrosity disappeared, replaced once more by the cold, stoic young girl.
The transition felt seamless, yet something lingered in her mind. That monstrous form wasn't just an external transformation—it was her.
The thought weighed heavily, and Mithra reached out, her fingers brushing against her reflection in the mirror.
For a fleeting moment, the glass rippled. The monstrous figure appeared again, its skeletal visage staring back at her.
Mithra exhaled, her voice a whisper in the silence. "Please take care of me."
The reflection shifted, the dark figure tilting its head as though acknowledging her plea. Or perhaps it was just an illusion.