Today was hectic for Alina. Maybe not as hectic as when she was a mere resident in the ER, but still, being murdered on one same day while being involved in some kind of secret plot as a disposable mercenary wasn't something she would appreciate. She thought she would just stand still in the background, being a literal glorified statue, but no, it was a military operation. 

Lying down on her bed, she then gazed at the button-like object Ilya gave to her. This would call her anytime she needed her, maybe in her spaceship, or she'd just straight-up teleport to her location. Alina wasn't sure. She still could feel the tingling sensation on her neck, probably from when Ilya sucked her dry. 

Her eyes wandered over the clean, folded laundry, Inggrid's cult clothing was already washed. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to wear that thing ever again, it did have a rather interesting self-healing property, but it was the same as painting a bullseye at her back. 

With the realization, Alina walked toward the laundry and put it inside her Blood Inventory alongside the mysterious object that Inggrid gave her. It was better for her to hide the clothing in plain view, the least she could do was to hide anything that said out loud that she was Inggrid. 

She lay back, the pillow cool against her head, and let out a long, tired sigh. The ceiling above seemed uninterestingly mundane, yet her thoughts swirled with the magical and supernatural events she had just survived. The idea of closing her eyes brought both relief and a hint of fear; who knew what the next day would bring?

A special operation strike team kidnapping me? 

A dragon with a grudge because Inggrid sucked her blood? Wait, wait, make it two dragons, yeah, that will make sense. 

I know something else, a giant mecha robot with the pilot having an anger management issue? 

Oh, oh, I know, I got involved in a love triangle between Inggrid and one of its peers. Hey, who knows? This world is already insane enough for me, it couldn't get any worse, could it? 

The thoughts spun wildly, a mix of dread and the bizarre until exhaustion finally overtook her. With a deep, surrendering breath, she allowed the comfort of the bed to envelop her. Deep down, she knew, tomorrow would be a new day, and hopefully, nothing would be as bad as she thought. 

[21:00 AM]

Waking up from the bed, Alina felt a little bit glad, for one thing, she was alive, so Ilya wasn't there to hunt her down, which was good news. Waking up, she then walked toward the shower, but just before she walked in, there was a knock on the door. 

"Room service, breakfast." 

Instinctively, Alina reached out for the door and opened it. The bellboy greeted her with a tray with his hand and handed it to Alina. It was a simple breakfast, a bowl of chicken porridge on the tray alongside the eating utensils. 

The bellboy then left the door and left Alina. The smell of the porridge entered her nostrils, inviting her to eat. She took a moment to appreciate the simplicity of the chicken porridge, its steam carrying a comforting warmth. The first spoonful was delicious, and savory with just the right touch of herbs.

Methodically, she ate, allowing the routine act of having breakfast to ground her thoughts. However, as she continued to eat, a subtle change began to manifest. A drowsiness crept over her, gentle at first, like the lulling touch of fatigue after a long day. But it deepened swiftly, unnaturally so. Alina's spoon clattered against the bowl as her hands began to feel unusually heavy, her thoughts muddied and slow.

Panic sparked within her as the realization dawned on her—something was wrong. Very wrong. This wasn't normal fatigue; it was as if a dense fog was rolling over her mind, thick and suffocating. She tried to stand, to move away from the table, but her legs buckled, weak and uncooperative.

Alina grasped at the counter to steady herself, her mind racing even as it fogged. Anesthetic. The porridge—it had to have been spiked. But the bellboy, it was an innocent-looking one, who did this? 

Her vision blurred, the edges of the room smearing into indistinct shadows as she struggled against the overwhelming urge to collapse. Eventually, Alina closed her eyes, her body fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. 

The last thing she saw before her consciousness slipped away was the door to her room quietly opening. Figures moved swiftly into her room—silhouettes she could barely make out as her eyes fought against the weight of the anesthetic. 

"That's her, grab her and bag her."

Shit, again?

***

When Alina's awareness returned, the first sensation she registered was the uncomfortable bumping and shifting of her body. Her hands were tied down on something, that was for sure, her whole face was put on a damp sack, preventing her from screaming or calling for any help. 

Muffled voices and the hum of an engine filled the air, confirming her fears that she was being transported somewhere—most likely in a vehicle. Despite the throbbing headache and the heavy pull of the drug in her system, Alina fought to piece together her thoughts and assess her situation. It was clear she had been kidnapped, but by whom?

She tried to identify the kidnappers, using the bit of light coming out of the sack. The men were people in black pants, dressed similar to a hired gun. So, one of her fears somehow came true, she got kidnapped by spec-ops? 

As Alina tried to focus her thoughts through the haze of drugs and fear, the van jolted violently. A deafening roar shattered the air, and the entire vehicle shook as if caught in a hurricane. The men inside shouted, their voices laced with panic.

Suddenly, the van skidded to a halt. Alina could hear the screech of tires on asphalt, followed by more roars—this time closer and more terrifying. She felt her stomach churn as the van tipped sideways slightly as if something massive had slammed into it.

The van slammed against the road, then it spun violently. The kidnappers scrambled, yelling commands and struggling to regain control of the situation. Through the sack, Alina could see flickers of light, perhaps fire, and the shadow of a massive shape moving outside. The sound of rending metal tore through the air as the side of the van was peeled away like the lid of a tin can.

Using the opportunity, she cut down the rope using one of the sharp parts that she could feel from the metal van. She quickly released the sack on her face and grabbed her saber from her Blood Inventory. Using her Blitz, she teleported out into someplace far away from the van. 

She spat the gag out of her mouth and then, she quickly realized how quickly the situation escalated. She saw the burning van on the side of the road. She stood in the middle of the grassland, watching a dragon spitting out molten lava out of its mouth at the van. The kidnappers were dead, that was for sure. 

[Mechanical Dragon - LVL. 55] [WARNING!!!]

The dragon was as dragon as it could get, with its scaly skins, and the fact that it breathed fire, but the similarity ended there. The skin of the dragon was made of metal, its eyes were glowing in red, and its wings were more similar to a fighter jet than a real wing. The dragon poured the seemingly endless sea of molten lava at the van, burning it into molten slag. 

Alina still could feel her legs wobbling, both from fear and paralysis. What the hell was that thing? It was a dragon, she knew that, but what kind of dragon had multiple glowing electronic parts attached to its body and a bloody rocket booster? 

Alina watched, transfixed and terrified, as the mechanical dragon continued its fiery assault. The heat from its breath was intense even at this distance, causing the air to shimmer and warp around her. The dragon then turned, its electronic eyes scanning the area, and for a moment, Alina feared it would notice her.

But then, with a powerful beat of its jet-enhanced wings, the dragon lifted off the ground. It soared skyward, leaving behind the smoldering wreckage of the van and the charred remains of her captors. As it disappeared into the clouds, Alina took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady her racing heart.

She was alone now, on an empty stretch of grassland with the burned-out van as the only landmark. Her mind raced, trying to piece together who might have sent such a technologically advanced creature. Was it sent to rescue her, or was it simply targeting the van and its occupants for reasons of its own?

Then, she heard another roar coming from the sky. Looking upward, she saw the same figure, diving straight at her. The red glowing orbs on its wing began to glow, and the dragon was charging with its mouth open. 

You got to be kidding me.