The dream shattered not with a scream, but a soft hum. As if the world was taking a breath it hadn't dared to before.
Alicia opened her eyes.
The simulation had faded. Her surroundings—no longer the regal halls of the academy simulation—were now soft fields of muted white. Light spilled from the sky in waves, illuminating an ethereal expanse that felt both ancient and unborn. She stood alone, her school uniform flickering with faint traces of magic—proof that her mind and body still clung to something real.
But something else had changed. Something within.
"You're not like them," came a voice from behind her.
Alicia turned slowly, not startled but aware. A young version of herself stood there—maybe ten years old, the same age she had been when she first felt the pressure of royalty grip her throat.
"I'm not…?" Alicia asked.
