"Sahra…"
I jolt awake.
My chest rises sharply as air rushes back into my lungs, like I've been drowning and only now break the surface. The room around me is dim, cluttered—walls patched with uneven wood and scraps of metal, shadows stretching in corners that don't feel still. I'm lying on a rough bed, the fabric beneath me worn and unfamiliar.
For a second, I don't know where I am.
Then it hits me.
The cave.
The voice.
The old man.
The collapse.
Sahra.
I sit up too fast, pain stabbing through my body. My head spins, but I force myself to look around. That's when I notice him.
Dan.
He's slumped on a chair beside the bed, half-asleep, his head resting against the wall. His clothes are torn.
All the memories from earlier come crashing back at once.
He stirs, noticing the movement. His eyes snap open, relief flooding his face.
"Thank God… you're awake," he exhales, leaning forward. "You've been out for four days. Thought… thought it was worse."
Four days.
My throat tightens.
"Where is Sahra?" I ask.
The words feel heavy leaving my mouth.
Dan hesitates. Just for a moment. Then he looks away.
"You must mean that girl crushed by the boulder," he says slowly. "I figured she died."
The way he says it—so distant, so detached—makes something inside me sink.
"That girl."
Not Sahra.
Not our Sahra.
My chest tightens, a hollow pressure building inside it.
"We were attacked," he continues, rubbing his face. "Had to carry you out. I… I left her body behind." His voice drops. "Luckily, we were saved by some local… thing ... People living in these ruins."
Thing.
Before I can respond, the door creaks open.
A figure steps inside.
At first, she's just a silhouette against the faint light behind her. But as she moves closer, the dim glow in the room catches her features—and I freeze.
She looks human.
But not quite.
A single horn curves from the left side of her head, smooth and pale. Her hair is white, falling in soft curls around her shoulders. Her eyes—green, bright, almost glowing—lock onto me with a strange warmth. Her skin is smooth, almost too perfect, like something shaped rather than born.
If I had to describe her…
A demon.
At least, that's what someone like me—someone who watches too much anime—would call her.
But she's here. Real. Standing in front of me.
And somehow… she doesn't feel hostile.
She smiles, relief clear on her face.
"Glad to see you are awake," she says softly. "My name is Rifi."
I don't respond immediately. My eyes stay fixed on her horn, on the way the light bends around her slightly wrong. My mind struggles to accept what I'm seeing.
Nothing about this feels real.
Not the ruins.
Not the voice.
Not her.
But she saved us.
I swallow, forcing my voice steady.
"Thanks… for saving us."
She nods, like that's enough. Like she expects nothing more.
Silence fills the room after that. Heavy, awkward.
Time passes.
I don't know how long.
The light fades, slowly turning from dull gray to deep blue, then into full night. The air cools, and the room feels smaller somehow.
Sahra's face keeps flashing in my mind.
Her smile.
Her voice.
Her hand slipping away.
And Dan…
He doesn't remember her. Not really. Not like I do.
That hurts more than it should.
I can't stay inside anymore.
I get up, ignoring the ache in my body, and step outside.
The night air hits me, cool and dry.
A small group has gathered not far from the building—figures sitting around a low fire, its light flickering against their faces. Some look human. Others… not entirely.
Rifi is there too.
They seem relaxed. Calm. Like this place isn't wrong at all.
Like this is home.
I stand there for a moment, watching them.
Then someone shifts, making space.
"They're about to start storytime," Dan says from behind me, his voice quieter now.
Storytime.
In a place like this.
I hesitate… then slowly walk toward the fire.
Maybe…
Maybe this time, I'll get answers. What am i saying …?