"Revealed!?" My voice comes out almost like a shout.
"I'm getting even more confused!"
She doesn't answer right away. Instead, she stands, walks to the door, and closes it carefully.
The dry thud of wood echoes through the room. For a moment, my mind drifts… why close the door? To protect me? Or to keep me in?
I swallow hard, trying to calm myself. The coarse sheets scrape against my skin, reminding me I'm still lying down, too weak to even sit up.
She begins to speak, her stance steady, her voice slicing through the air like a blade:
"What we don't have right now is time, so I'll be brief and direct… I know things seem confusing to you right now, but I'll start by explaining: the human race is made up of seven different species, each with its own history, culture, and unique abilities."
My eyebrows knit together. Seven species?
"You are homo captvus, but known to everyone as 'prisoners.' You are usually fused with an animal…"
her eyes sweep over me, as if reading me from the inside out
"…which explains your appearance… and your connection to ravens. The darker truth is that you are seen as commoners… or as if you don't exist at all."
My whole body tenses against the hard mattress. Commoners? Nonexistent?
"Almost no one has met your kind… because you were hunted down and locked away in this Death Board — the place where all humans who disobey the World Government are thrown."
Her voice grows heavier.
"You prisoners, in ancient times, rebelled against them… and it cost you your lives."
My heart races. Rebels? Hunted? Ten generations trapped here?
"I think… ten generations have been stuck here. But there are others… like me and Foster. We belong to the homo vilus species, known as Watchers. Among humans… we stand above you."
She sighs.
"I hope that covers the basics."
I don't move.
The old, stained ceiling seems to spin above me.
"Wait…" my voice comes out softer.
"You're telling me I'm not… fully human? That I belong to an extinct species… hunted like animals?"
My hand slowly reaches behind me, brushing against the cold feathers that still unsettle me.
"This is… this is a joke, right?"
She doesn't blink.
"No… it's not a joke."
The weight of the truth presses me deeper into the bed.
I can't get up… even if I wanted to.
What the hell kind of world have they thrown me into!?
She sits beside me, the mattress dipping slightly, and continues:
"The Death Board… is this infinite prison of an apocalyptic world we're in. Getting out of here… is no simple task."
Her words drag through my mind, each one carrying the weight of a stone. I can't think. I can't even piece together what I've just heard.
"And… about you calling me 'Revealed'?" my voice falters.
She gives a faint smile — not of amusement, but like someone about to deliver another blow.
"That's right…" she breathes deep before continuing.
"Humans can cultivate power through their species. But through the cosmic force that shapes everything, called the Invisible Bible, we can cultivate not only strength… but knowledge. Knowledge about everything: our power, the universe… and its mysteries."
My eyes lock on the ceiling, trying to picture whatever the hell this "Invisible Bible" is, but no image will form in my mind.
"Those who follow the second path of cultivation… are called the Revealed. But this path is forbidden to civilians by the World Government. You can only cultivate it inside an academy… otherwise, you're seen as an enemy. And when that happens… they take catastrophic measures."
With each sentence, the reason I'm lying here feels less like physical weakness… and more like the crushing weight of her words holding me down.
"As is my case," she goes on.
"Thanks to a friend who got into an academy, I was able to learn a little… and now I'm a First Circle Revealed. That's why I could feel the same invisible atmosphere and connection of the Bible coming from you when I found you collapsed. But… it seems you're already in the Second Circle."
My heart pounds, but the rest of me stays frozen.
Second Circle? Before I can even grasp the first, they're telling me I belong to the second?
The room feels smaller. The walls… the shadows… everything leaning in on me.
"I'm not certain…" she says, lowering her voice as if afraid something else might overhear.
"I'm still far from being a great cultivator of the Invisible Bible.
But… my master told me there are other realities… and all of them are connected."
Her words fall like heavy chains.
"Often, those with great potential… and a strong connection to the Invisible Bible… can appear in other realities, carrying with them memories and knowledge from the past."
She stares at me. Not with anger. Not with pity. But like someone trying to see past the flesh, past the face… searching for something hidden inside me that even I don't know.
"I believe that's your case… since you don't remember."
The air in the room feels thinner. More realities? Past memories?
As if I'd been… transplanted from one world to another? My mind throbs with images I can't hold onto. It's like trying to cup water in my hands — the tighter I grip, the faster it slips away.
I feel the bed beneath me, the weight of my body, the cold in my hands… yet nothing feels solid enough to prove I still belong here.
At that instant, the door bursts open with a sharp bang. Foster stands in the doorway, his face tense, sweat gluing strands of hair to his forehead.
"Sis, hurry!" he blurts, panting.
"Once again, we're running late — the area swap has already started!"
The sound of those words slices the air like a blade. "Area swap?" I repeat in my mind, unable to voice the question.
The woman beside me rises at once, eyes locked on Foster, as if his urgency outweighed every unanswered question I still had.
My heart speeds up — not from effort, since I can barely move — but from the creeping certainty that whatever this "area swap" is… it's not the kind of event you want to face while pinned to a mattress.