A low, rumbling growl surrounds me, vibrating beneath my body like the stomach of some massive beast. My head is pounding… not from battle, not from wounds, but from something deeper. A wrongness. A displacement.

  Where am I?

  The last thing I remember clearly is…

  No, I wasn’t in a throne room anymore. I wasn’t fighting the Demon King. That battle was over. I had won. I had fulfilled my duty.

  But then, I fought again.

  Not against demons. Not on a battlefield. But in a place where walls were smooth and floors too clean, where the weak were tormented by cowards who thought themselves powerful.

  I fought them. I won.

  And then…

  My fingers curl against something strange and smooth. Not armor, not leather, but a strap, crossing over my chest like a binding spell. My body is still, restrained but not shackled. I am seated, not standing.

  This is not a dungeon.

  I shift, feeling the movement of something beneath me. A jolt. A hum. A strange, rolling sensation.

  I glance to my side.

  A man sits there… gripping something round, his eyes fixed forward. He’s not armed. He’s not watching me. His hands twist slightly, and the entire cage I’m in tilts. I jerk forward, but the strap tightens against my chest, holding me in place.

  I inhale sharply.

  I am inside the belly of a beast.

  A beast with no heartbeat.

  A beast that follows the others before it in a perfect, unnatural rhythm.

  I don’t move. I don’t speak. My mind is still catching up.

  The man beside me exhales. “You’re quiet.”

  I don’t answer.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  His fingers drum against the circular device in front of him. “Not even gonna argue? Call me names? Scream about injustice?” He glances at me, his brows pulling together. “Shit. Did they finally knock your brain loose?”

  I narrow my eyes.

  This man… Shiba. I remember him.

  A guard. A soldier, maybe, but not in the way I know soldiers. He is not my enemy, yet he is not on my side either.

  He sighs, focusing back on the path ahead. The world beyond the beast’s clear walls stretches out in ways I still cannot comprehend.

  Giant glowing symbols hang above us, suspended in the air, flickering like enchanted runes. Towering structures with smooth, perfect surfaces rise into the sky. Strange lights flash, unnatural and rhythmic. And the beasts… they move together, side by side, never straying, never colliding, their glowing eyes unblinking.

  It is unnerving.

  I force myself to breathe. To observe. To learn.

  Shiba keeps talking. “You’re lucky, you know that? Could’ve been worse. Kid’s in the hospital, wall’s busted, and you’re here with me instead of in a cell. Your mom’s gonna lose her shit, but at least you’re not getting charged.”

  Mom.

  I don’t react, but the word lingers.

  Not my mother. Not the one I knew.

  But Noriko’s mother.

  I don’t know her. I don’t know anyone from this life.

  But they know me.

  I grip my knee, grounding myself. This is dangerous. If I am expected to be someone I am not… if I am known, recognized, familiar to these people… then any misstep could expose me.

  I cannot allow that.

  Shiba keeps glancing at me like he’s waiting for an outburst. I stay silent.

  “Alright,” he mutters. “Fine. Be weird.”

  The beast beneath us slows, lets out a strange, hissing breath, and then stops. Shiba moves his hand, pulls a lever, and suddenly… the side of the beast opens.

  I tense, reaching for a sword that isn’t there.

  Shiba gives me a weird look. “Get out.”

  I move slowly, cautiously, stepping onto the strange stone beneath me. It’s not dirt. Not cobblestone. It’s too smooth, stretching out endlessly without cracks, without flaws.

  Before me, a building looms—tall, unyielding, glowing from within like a palace of glass and steel.

  Shiba gestures toward the doors. “Inside.”

  I do not trust him.

  But I understand him.

  And so, I walk.

  The air inside is thick with unfamiliar scents—paper, ink, something sharp and bitter. The walls are lined with desks, occupied by men and women in strange uniforms. Some stare at glowing slabs in their hands. Others sit before large, flat panels displaying shifting images and words I cannot read.

  None of them carry swords.

  None of them wear armor.

  And yet, the tension in the air is unmistakable.

  This is a place of law.

  A fortress of control.

  A woman looks up as we approach. “She’s here?”

  “Yep,” Shiba says, gesturing at me. “Didn’t even fight this time. Kinda weird, actually.”

  The woman’s eyes flick to me, then back to Shiba. “Her mother’s on the way.”

  Shiba grunts. “Figures.”

  Mother.

  Again, the word settles in my chest like a weight.

  I follow Shiba down a hall, into a small, enclosed room with a table and two chairs. He gestures for me to sit.

  I do.

  He leans against the wall, arms crossed. “Alright, listen up.”

  I meet his gaze.

  “You got into a fight. You wrecked school property. Kid’s in the hospital. And now you’re acting like you don’t know what the hell’s going on.” He tilts his head. “So what’s the deal?”

  I take a breath.

  I must be careful.

  “…I don’t remember,” I say.

  Shiba squints at me. “Bullshit.”

  I don’t flinch. “My mind is… unclear.”

  Not a lie. Not entirely.

  His jaw tightens. “You think this is funny? Playing dumb?”

  “I am not playing.”

  He watches me, measuring my words.

  Then, finally, he exhales and rubs his temple. “Look. If this is some dumbass excuse to get out of trouble, it’s not gonna work. Your mom’s gonna be here any second, and if you pull this amnesia crap with her, you’re gonna wish I’d just thrown you in a cell instead.”

  I stay silent.

  But inside, I am bracing.

  Mother.

  This woman… this stranger… will see me and expect her daughter.

  She will know my face. My name. My past.

  And I…

  I know nothing.

  I fold my hands in my lap, forcing my breathing to steady.

  If I am to survive here, I must learn.

  If I am to avoid suspicion, I must become the Noriko they expect.

  At least… until I understand this world enough to decide what to do next.

  Shiba shakes his head, muttering to himself.

  And outside the room, footsteps approach.

  The test is about to begin.