The accident tore through the veil. Kiara Amara should have died at Bandung Station in June 2024, but her soul was cast away.
It was no longer the piercing wail of ambulance sirens that met her ears, but the echo of crystal bells chiming softly. The girl opened her eyes. Above her, a clear sky decorated by circling eagles—not white clouds—stretched across the horizon.
A throbbing pain stabbed her head as she clutched her forehead. Only the sound of the crystal bells remained in her memory. When she tried to push herself up, the thick liquid on her hands felt sticky. Blood. The metallic scent of copper was overpowering. Not far away, a small lake reflected the trees. The water was emerald green, so crystal clear that the bottom was visible.
She crawled forward, intending to wash away the red stains. However, her eyes widened as she saw her reflection on the water's surface: her hair was no longer the pitch-black she always kept in a ponytail, but golden-blonde curls, paired with a stranger's dark gray eyes. She pulled her hands back instinctively.
"Something is wrong," she muttered, standing up. Her palms were now clean. Who did this body belong to?
Suddenly, the ground shook violently. The calm lake churned, its surface shattered by ferocious ripples. She fell back again. From the raging depths of the water, a giant worm with razor-sharp teeth emerged, poised to strike.
The wind whipped her golden hair. A flash of light streaked past, and in the blink of an eye, the worm was sliced in two. Her eyes darted warily behind her. A man in his thirties appeared. Tobacco smoke drifted from his mouth, a drawn sword held firmly in his hand.
With a heavy, booming voice, the man said, "I told you, Ashviera Honesty. If you try to kill yourself again, this world will still be destroyed."
Ashviera Honesty. The name struck her soul—the original owner of this body. Kiara flashed her most awkward smile, trying to hide her shock. "I'm sorry, Sir..."
"Jima Morte," he interrupted with a harsh sigh. "Did that suicide attempt actually give you amnesia? Listen well. If you try it again, I'll hit your head until you remember." The angry glint in his sapphire eyes felt like a physical sting.
"Ah, of course," Kiara murmured, smiling stiffly. He was far more terrifying than the worm.
"Let's go home. Mina is waiting for you." Jima sheathed his sword and stepped out of the forest. Kiara followed, her face full of questions, but with a firm resolve: she would gather the pieces of this mystery one by one.
Before long, they arrived at a great bridge joining the forest to the city. Ancient, colonial-style buildings stood grandly, freezing time in place. The streets were busy, filled with people of fair and brown complexions.
"Miss Ashviera!"
The piercing voice came from a woman with straight brown hair and sharp purple eyes. The hair on the back of Kiara's neck stood up.
"W-what did I do?" she muttered, reflexively raising her hands to her chest as the woman rushed toward her, wielding a flyswatter.
"Ouch!" Kiara winced as the swatter landed on the crown of her head. However, a split second later, she was stunned by a tight embrace.
"Don't keep making me worry, you idiot!" the woman cried, rubbing Kiara's back gently, her voice thick with anxiety. Jima Morte smiled meaningfully, watching their interaction. So, this is Mina? Kiara thought, smiling awkwardly in the face of the affectionate scolding.
Shades of orange and purple danced across the horizon. After a brief introduction to Mina, Ashviera finally found herself in her new room. The door creaked slightly as a chill brushed her bones. The strong scent of lavender filled the air. "So this is Ashviera's room?" she whispered. She touched an ornate wooden desk carved with bees until she reached the bookshelf beside the bed.
"Hunter Detective?" She reached for a book on the top shelf. She chuckled, admiring Ashviera's taste, then opened a page marked with a butterfly bookmark.
Suddenly, the floor beneath her collapsed.
Her body drifted through a dark, star-studded space. Her feet landed on a cold surface—ice crystals. A temperature as freezing as the North Pole made her legs tremble. Is this Ashviera's subconscious? she wondered.
A heavy breath huffed behind her. She spun around, clenching her fists, ready to strike. A majestic Dragon sat there. White scales, blue hair, and glowing gold eyes stared intensely at her.
"Welcome, new soul," the Dragon said, exhaling a breath like smoke.
New soul? Give me a break. "You're no ordinary dragon. Who are you, and who is Ashviera?" she challenged.
The Dragon smiled, revealing sharp teeth. "You will find out after investigating it one day."
"I'm not particularly interested," Kiara rejected him politely. A detective like in the comics? I'm no Shinichi Kudo.
"Hahaha!" The Dragon's laughter boomed, making Kiara stop in her tracks. "Earthly humans are indeed interesting, but this is no comic or fairy tale. This is my world."
"What? Wait, you can hear my thoughts?" Kiara asked in disbelief.
The Dragon's grin turned cruel. "Because I am a part of your subconscious, though I am loath to admit it."
"I don't remember ever picking up this ugly Dragon," Kiara retorted flatly, ignoring him and turning her attention to the only blue-flowering tree in the void.
Vexation was etched clearly on the Dragon's forehead at being ignored. "Hey, Midget!"
Ashviera turned back, annoyed. "That foul mouth of yours..."
"Let's negotiate," the Dragon said with a cunning smile. His heavy voice grew faint in Kiara's ears as her body fell from the ledge. The sensation of cold turned to warmth.
She jolted awake, sitting on the floor with the book closed in her lap.
"I'm just a college student who hasn't even finished her overdue thesis," Kiara grumbled as she stood up, returning the book to its place. "And now I'm stuck dealing with someone else's life."
After returning the Hunter Detective book to the shelf, Ashviera's (Kiara's) mood did not improve. The entire situation—the alien dimension, the suicide attempt, the Dragon eavesdropping on her thoughts—felt like a bad cosmic joke.
She stepped to the window. Ancient streetlamps illuminated the antique city streets, which were now quiet. Behind the architectural beauty lay a thick feeling of strangeness and danger.
Mina said she was waiting for me. I'd better find some information before they realize I'm a fake.
Ashviera opened the bedroom door. The lavender scent was no longer soothing; it was a reminder that she was living someone else's life. She walked slowly down the creaking wooden stairs. The house felt large and old, filled with dancing shadows cast by the oil lamps in the living room.
In the kitchen, she found Mina brewing tea. The purple-eyed woman looked less anxious than before, but her face remained stern.
"I've prepared hot water," Mina said without turning around. "And Jima just got home. He's in his study."
"Mina..." Ashviera called out, trying to find an opening. "Could you tell me something about... me?"
Mina stopped pouring the tea, her spoon clinking against the porcelain cup. Slowly, she turned, staring at Ashviera with a flat expression that was hard to read.
"What do you mean, Ashviera?" There was a sharp edge to her voice. "You just tried to kill yourself, and now you're asking 'about yourself'?"
"I..." Ashviera tried to fabricate an excuse. "My head still hurts. After the accident—I mean, after the attempt—some things are blurry. Like... who is Jima Morte to me?"
Mina set the teapot down. Her purple eyes narrowed, scanning Ashviera's face.
"Jima Morte is your Companion, as well as your Captain in the Hunter Corps," Mina answered, her voice now calm but cold. "And I... I am your sister, you idiot. Mina Honesty."
The Hunter Corps? So the Hunter Detective book wasn't just a coincidence.
"What... are our duties in the Hunter Corps?" Ashviera tried to sound normal.
"Our duties? Protecting the Veil. Protecting the Wall. Protecting this city from the creatures that come through the dimensional tears you mentioned a few weeks ago," Mina said, pointing to an old leather-bound book on the table. "You've always known your duty, Ashviera. But today, you tried to run away from it."
Mina picked up the leather-bound book and handed it over. "This is your Journal. Everything you need is in there. Don't pretend to have a headache anymore."
Ashviera accepted the book. It was heavy and cold, as if it held the entire weight of the body's owner's destiny. She knew that rather than talking, the answers lay within those pages.
"Alright, Mina. Thank you."
With quick steps, Ashviera returned to her room. She locked the door and flopped onto the bed. She opened the thick book slowly.
On the first page, written in neat ink:
June 2024. Time is running out. The tear in the Veil, caused by my own magic, has cast a soul from a foreign dimension here. If I fail, everything will be destroyed.
Ashviera fell silent. A tear in the Veil. A foreign soul.
"Oh, no," she whispered. "I didn't just take over her life. I am the reason for the accident."
Then she read a sentence that had been heavily crossed out, yet was still legible:
I must find a way to repair the tear and return the foreign soul to its place of origin... before the Great Dragon takes control of my body.
Next...