一
[ She opens her eyes.
It is strange to think something so simple would be so utterly shocking. No, not shocking--horrifying. When she had closed her eyes last, she knew she would not open them again and...that was okay, because what awaited her if she ever opened them again was not something she wished to experience. She had ended her existence on her own terms--not just her own life, as she had already been dead! Rather, her very existence--poof, woosh, gone. Everything. She had deliberately moved herself into a checkmate so that Battler and Beatrice could erase her very existence; whether from the view of mystery--wherein she never existed in the first place--or from the view of fantasy--wherein she was destroyed--she should not be able to be 'awake'. There should be nothing left of her.
No soul, no further afterlife, nothing.
...And that is okay! Or, rather, would have been.
It seems as though that, even after glimpsing upon the 'truth' and finally doing what she felt to be right and for the first time questioning her life and standing on her own two feet, she is not to avoid her punishment. She had felt having her existence eliminated was the more fitting and sensible punishment, but naturally Master would disagree; she lays on the ground, staring into the sky, berating herself for being so foolish and stupid and ignorant and useless and a waste of space and stupid--she calls herself that twice--for thinking even a moment that she could escape Master's anger.
Because who else could be responsible for her being able to open her eyes?
She stands. She acquires the information the cats provide. This game board appears ridiculous and silly, but she does not think that; she thinks nothing. She simply goes through the motions, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that this is the punishment the Cruelest Witch prepared for her. She had feared an eternity floating through a lightless void, as she was threatened with and is typical of cast-away pieces never to be used again, and this would be much better than that if not for the fact that...this would be a miracle and the Witch of Miracles would allow no such thing.
She wishes she had been allowed her embrace of nothingness. She did not want to open her eyes.
This is Hell, specially prepared for her by the Witch of Miracles Bernkastel, the Cruelest Witch.
...There is the possibility--ever so very, very faint and unlikely it may be--that this is not a construct of her Master's. She wonders if it is simply another example of her own vast foolishness to harbor such hope or if it is a genuine possibility. Regardless, the first steps she must make will be the same. She sighs and once again puts on her facade; she has gone so long using it that even now, with this, she still can.
The facade of the confident and brilliant detective, Furudo Erika. ]
[ V I D E O ]
[ The Vine's mirrors show the image of a scrawny seventeen-year-old girl. ]
Hello, good day. Nice to meet you! Nice to meet everyone. It seems that, as strange as it may be, I have been accosted here against my will. From what I have heard, I am not alone in this matter; please welcome me and help me nonetheless. I am...
[ She pauses for a moment, as though the following words require will to say despite having said them so many times over in her life with such fervor. ]
...The Detective, Furudo Erika.
[ ...Another pause, this one much longer. Should she...? What good will it do? No, avoiding her fate would do even less good. ]
...M...M-Master Bernkastel, if you can hear: I d-d-d-d-demand r-r-request a-a-ask to speak to you as soon as possible. P...P-Please.
It is strange to think something so simple would be so utterly shocking. No, not shocking--horrifying. When she had closed her eyes last, she knew she would not open them again and...that was okay, because what awaited her if she ever opened them again was not something she wished to experience. She had ended her existence on her own terms--not just her own life, as she had already been dead! Rather, her very existence--poof, woosh, gone. Everything. She had deliberately moved herself into a checkmate so that Battler and Beatrice could erase her very existence; whether from the view of mystery--wherein she never existed in the first place--or from the view of fantasy--wherein she was destroyed--she should not be able to be 'awake'. There should be nothing left of her.
No soul, no further afterlife, nothing.
...And that is okay! Or, rather, would have been.
It seems as though that, even after glimpsing upon the 'truth' and finally doing what she felt to be right and for the first time questioning her life and standing on her own two feet, she is not to avoid her punishment. She had felt having her existence eliminated was the more fitting and sensible punishment, but naturally Master would disagree; she lays on the ground, staring into the sky, berating herself for being so foolish and stupid and ignorant and useless and a waste of space and stupid--she calls herself that twice--for thinking even a moment that she could escape Master's anger.
Because who else could be responsible for her being able to open her eyes?
She stands. She acquires the information the cats provide. This game board appears ridiculous and silly, but she does not think that; she thinks nothing. She simply goes through the motions, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that this is the punishment the Cruelest Witch prepared for her. She had feared an eternity floating through a lightless void, as she was threatened with and is typical of cast-away pieces never to be used again, and this would be much better than that if not for the fact that...this would be a miracle and the Witch of Miracles would allow no such thing.
She wishes she had been allowed her embrace of nothingness. She did not want to open her eyes.
This is Hell, specially prepared for her by the Witch of Miracles Bernkastel, the Cruelest Witch.
...There is the possibility--ever so very, very faint and unlikely it may be--that this is not a construct of her Master's. She wonders if it is simply another example of her own vast foolishness to harbor such hope or if it is a genuine possibility. Regardless, the first steps she must make will be the same. She sighs and once again puts on her facade; she has gone so long using it that even now, with this, she still can.
The facade of the confident and brilliant detective, Furudo Erika. ]
[ V I D E O ]
[ The Vine's mirrors show the image of a scrawny seventeen-year-old girl. ]
Hello, good day. Nice to meet you! Nice to meet everyone. It seems that, as strange as it may be, I have been accosted here against my will. From what I have heard, I am not alone in this matter; please welcome me and help me nonetheless. I am...
[ She pauses for a moment, as though the following words require will to say despite having said them so many times over in her life with such fervor. ]
...The Detective, Furudo Erika.
[ ...Another pause, this one much longer. Should she...? What good will it do? No, avoiding her fate would do even less good. ]
...M...M-Master Bernkastel, if you can hear: I d-d-d-d-demand r-r-request a-a-ask to speak to you as soon as possible. P...P-Please.