I was feeling dizzy and had a terrible headache.

Where am I? Was I not in a hospital? I could not see clearly, as if I had some prism glasses over my eyes. My head was heavy, and I could not gather my thoughts.

“Flo? White Flower?”

There was no answer. I tried to raise my hand to my head but was restrained. Say what? Oh yes, there was a nurse here who had said that I was bound for my own security?! Oh, fuck, what is this shit about? Why should I be strapped?

No, no, no, no, no, no!

If I am not in Mephisto, then where the hell am I, and how did I get here? Why? How? A wave of panic was gripping my heart. No, it cannot be; there must be some mistake. Something happened. Or maybe this is inside the game? I was on the verge of starting to cry.

I tried to pull my head up, but it did not work. Wait, what? My head is also restrained? How? Why?

Where is that damn nurse?

I tried to say something, and some kind of gurgling noises came out of my throat. Do I have something in my mouth? Yes, I vaguely feel something; that's why I can't close my mouth. I felt saliva dropping on my chin.

But after the panic wave, something stirred inside me. Panic does not help; try to keep cool, Dolores!

Cala? I am Cala. I heard my heartbeats stabilizing and my breathing slowing down towards normal.

What is this? Where am I?

My brain was running mad, trying to put pieces of input into coherent thoughts, but there was like a fog inside it. A dense fog that allowed for only small parts to come to light.

I heard steps.

"... conscience? ... she m...?"

That was a male voice this time. I did not get the meaning, just some words. I tried to turn my head but again, no chance. I produced some gargled noises again.

“Why... by ...? Why... up?”

“... know”

There were more people talking with harsh, rough voices. It was hard to concentrate.

“... here ... care... Give … that...”

“...rhinoceros...”

Rhinoceros? What do they talk about?

“Double... now!”

I heard something moving to my side. It sounded like some mechanical arm. Something sharp pushed into my skin. I heard the engine stalling. I tried to move, and something snapped, cracked, and splashed. I heard interjections and curses.

“...”

“...skin... fucking ...pump … needed!”

My head was heavy. It was as if my brain were made of lead. No, not lead, uranium. Heavy and radioactive... Each thought would give a free neutron that would blast somewhere into the rest of the brain...

“Help me, and I'll help you!”

That voice was clear and precise, and if my brain was made of uranium, that voice started a chain reaction.

Tenebra? Was this Tenebra? It sounded like her! I tried to scream in shock and fear, and I pushed hard to stand up. Something was moved; I heard something giving up; something was creaking. I heard a bang. Was that a shot, or did something broke?

My head fell back again and a liquid burned inside my stomach. If there are cold flames in this world, that was it.

Everything was getting even heavier now.

“Lead... Let me lead... let...”

I opened my eyes. I was feeling flummoxed and could hardly lift my head when I heard a voice:

“Hello, young lady. How do you feel?”

I answered with a sight:

“I feel like coming from under a steam roller. My head is hurting bad!”

"Don't lift your head; you are still too weak; let me raise your pillow."

My breathing accelerated. I slowly took in my new reality: I could move my head? It worked? Hey, I even talked, and it worked; no gargled sound came out of my mouth! I tried to move my left hand, but it was restrained. Ah! I turned my eyes, and I saw I had a transfusion on that side, and the hand was bound to the bed's side. I moved my right hand. Yes, it was free to move it, but it was so very hard to do it.

She smiled at me:

“Don't overdo yourself! I've already called the doctor; he will be here in a couple of minutes.”

“What happened? Why am I so weak?”

“You've been in a coma, dear. They will be so excited to hear you woke up!”

“I… I've been in a coma? For how long?”

My upper half was now elevated, and I was resting comfortably on a big pillow seeing the hospital room. A standard hospital room. I was alone in the room.

The nurse was gently massaging and exercising my scrawny legs. She was now doing my right leg. Oh dear, am I skinny! Even with the pajama on, I could see how thin the leg was. How long was I in a coma? She had not answered my question yet!?

“Can you move your toes? Yes, good!”

I did as she asked me, but it was hard; I was incredibly weak and uncoordinated.

So what was everything I thought I heard and saw before?

The thought hit me like an express train passing through a village station: everything had been just a dream. Not only the previous images but everything. Everything I thought I lived through.

If this is my wake-up after the accident I had with Lola, then nothing happened!

Does one dream while in a coma? I obviously did.

Everything was a (coma induced?) dream, and now I'm waking up. All that magic story was made up?

I breathed deeply, closed my eyes, and tried to think it through.

Everything just a dream? Since that accident, when I thought I had discovered my healing powers? Fucking fuck! Just a dream! Just a dream!

“Do you remember your name, dear?”

She took me out of my thoughts with that question as she gently massaged my other leg.

My name? Of course, I know my name! And Lola? What about Lola, is she OK?

I wanted to ask about Lola; I opened my mouth to tell my name when I saw my face reflected in a glass. An empty glass of water was there, and my face reflected on it.

Distorted but still visible. I remained mute with my mouth open. As if I've seen a ghost. How many times can you have your world turned upside down?

I saw Cala. I saw the scar on my left eye, cutting the socket in two as the arrow had hit me long ago. Then when I died. I raised my hand slowly at the scar on my neck.

Did I really see that? I opened and closed my mouth several times like a fish out of water. I felt the neck's scar under my fingers. I fucking felt it; it is there. How can Cala's scars be there?

She looked at me with a smile nodding her head.

“Yes, dear?”

“A mirror? Can I have a mirror, please?”

“Oh, sure!” - she answered, a bit surprised by my request.

She produced a small round mirror that I took in my arm. She helped me push my hair away to see my face. I was covered with bandages, but still, my face was recognizable: Cala. I put my fingers on the scar at my left eye.

Cala. I am Cala.

How can it be that I dreamed everything?

My brain was suffering a meltdown. Am I, in reality, Cala? Is this my true look? Does Dolores even exist?

Interestingly I was not panicking now. The thought of being Cala gave me power. I was still confused but less afraid. It was as if sediment would grow and set itself fast around me.

“Water, ask her for water!”

I was so stunned that it did not even surprise me to hear a voice in my mind. I mechanically asked:

“Can you give me some water, please?”

“Oh sure, dear, here you are!”

She smiled as if understanding why I looked at the glass. She took it and poured some water into it, then helped me hold it in my hand and bring it to my lips. Meanwhile, a doctor came into the room, but I concentrated on my task; I sipped some water from the glass.

I drank slowly, tasted it on my tongue, swallowed, and felt … nothing.

Water is such a long memory element; it remembers where it flew through, and if you close your eyes when you drink, empty your head from all other thoughts and try to feel only the humid touch within you, you have like a revelation and see the rocks, see the depths, or the swamps where the water comes from, even if it was thousand times cleaned and filtered. Oh, you can taste the sand filters, you can taste the pipes and the chemicals they use to clean it, but you can also go further.

Only distillation kills the memory, but even distillation adds new memory to it. There is no water without a taste.

So, why don’t I feel anything now? What is wrong with this water? There is no such water with no taste. I know it; I have a fairy in me.

It was still hard to think, but at least I had a conclusion. I raised my head and watched her in the eyes.

“This is fake, lady. Everything here is fake. Why are you doing this to me?"

“No! Don't say that! Let me lead!! You don't think clearly!”

Then another voice, that dreaded voice, interrupted my thoughts:

“They are going to kill you! Help me, and I'll help you!”

No, it was not Tenebra, but a voice that sounded like hers.

“Let me lead!”

This voice was desperate. This voice I trust. I was confused and shocked, so why should I not let her lead? I can retire like a tortoise and let her do the work.

“You lead!”

I was now feeling everything more clearly, but I was even more confused. Where am I?

The reality melted around me like in a surreal film, and another reality took shape. A reality where I could not distinguish anything around me.

“Help me, little fairy, and I'll help you!”

“You are a black angel. You'll help me to die!”

“I've always kept my word. Black angels never lie. You cannot succeed; you cannot escape. They'll melt you with acids; what can you do against it? Heal? How long? How many days? What if they try to add something else to it? They already decided to kill you. It is your choice. I can help you or watch how you die.”

“What can I do? How can I help you?”

“I am like you; I am inside the boy not far away from you. You could separate us.”

“You are possessing a boy? Poor kid!”

“I don't want to kill him. I promised. You can separate us. Once separated, I'll free you.”

“And you won't kill me?”

“No, I promise.”

“But then you'll follow me and kill my friends.”

He laughed.

“I am not that kind of black angel. I promise I will not kill your friends. If I know or learn that somebody is your friend, it will be spared.”

“And if I'll follow you and tell you that everybody you want to kill is my friend?”

“Then you'll lie, and our deal will be void. Don't lie to me. As simple as that. Help me, and I'll help you. But better hurry up; you do not have much time left.”