"Here is your room. You will be staying here from now on," Reed said while he let go of Kasperine’s arm, He tossed the torn t-shirt that KAsperine had been wearifng for a while, he had brought it along form the hospital rather then just throwing it awya onto the dismembered sofa lying in the corner of the room. This room bore a striking resemblance to the one where Kasperine had found herself waking up.

"I can't live here," she spoke in a hoarse voice, her brows furrowed in a frown, as she looked at Reed with an infuriated expression on her face. He shot her an equally annoyed look and then stepped closer, causing her to defensively retreat. As her back met the wall, her heart leapt, and she gripped the wooden window frame. Reed's hand slammed down, just across her neck, creating an unmistakable threat.

"Be grateful that you are still alive," his voice rang in her ears like a warning. "And if you wish to remain so, I suggest you keep a low profile and pray that your father is found. Otherwise, your feigned memory loss will be of no assistance to you." He hissed, his gaze locking onto hers as though peering into her very soul. Kasperine lowered her head and fell silent. Even though she needed to speak, to tell him that he might have apprehended the wrong person, the chilling intensity of his presence left her incapable of uttering a single word. She stood there in silence until he exited the room, slamming the door behind him. Kasperine remained in a state of shock for a prolonged moment before slowly distancing herself from the wall, her eyes sweeping across the room.

"What is happening? Who are these people, and what do they want from me?" Her voice conveyed frustration and weariness. The pain in her body still felt raw, yet she sensed that it was not an unfamiliar sensation.

Kasperine's breaths came in desperate heaves, her gaze fixated on her bruised hands and feet. The skin that once held life now wore an unnatural, ghostly hue, like snow in the moonlight. Her own body felt like a foreign landscape, the once-familiar curves and contours now replaced with stark angles and bones that seemed to protrude. Her brows furrowed as her fingertips gingerly grazed her malnourished form, a sinking realization settling in.

"How did I become this? How can I not remember any of it?" Her voice quivered, a fragile whisper escaping her lips as she grappled with the mystery.

"Something's very wrong," she muttered under her breath, her uncertainty thick in the air. Her gaze wandered and caught a glimpse of a slightly ajar door in a dim corner, a portal beckoning her forward. Her steps quickened, a mix of dread and anticipation coursing through her veins. The door protested with a mournful creak as she pushed it open, revealing a scene that nearly stole her composure.

A nauseating stench enveloped her, and Kasperine instinctively covered her mouth to stifle the rising bile. Her eyes darted around the revolting tableau before her—a floor marred with unspeakable filth and neglect. Summoning her courage, she flicked on the light, and it revealed a mirror bearing witness to the bathroom's sordid state, as if it had absorbed its years of decay.

And within that mirror, a figure stared back at her—a feeble boy with gaunt cheeks and eyes that had lost their fire. His pallid skin seemed almost translucent, with veins mapping out a web beneath.

Kasperine's hand trembled as it dropped from her mouth, her reflection an enigma she struggled to reconcile. Her gaze remained locked on the mirrored apparition, a strange mix of recognition and disbelief warring within her.

"Who... who is this?" Her voice wavered, carrying the weight of profound confusion. Each word seemed to hang in the air as if asking the unanswerable. Her head tilted as if in search of clarity, her reflection a portrait of vulnerability, mirroring her own uncertainty.

"No! This can't be me!" Kasperine's denial rang through the room, a crescendo of anguish and disbelief that threatened to shatter the walls. With a jolt, she tore her gaze from the mirror, the realization too agonizing to bear. The face that stared back wasn't hers; she was trapped in a body that wasn't her own.

Panic surged, and she clutched at her features, fingers digging into flesh in a desperate attempt to free herself from this nightmarish facade. Her cries reverberated, a symphony of torment and desperation that echoed in the cramped space. She tugged, clawed, and fought against the inexplicable reality, each pulls a plea for escape, only to be met with mounting fear and an unrelenting grip on her newfound existence.

"Hey! Cut the damn screaming!" A deep voice barked from outside the door, "Some of us are tryin' to catch some shut-eye here!" He added with a rough accent.

Kasperine's blood ran cold. She hurriedly made her way to the door, her chest constricting and her breath coming in short gasps. As she swung the door open, a hulking figure loomed, a scowl etched between his brows. He was so tall that Kasperine had to crane her neck to meet his gaze.

"Well, well, well, look who's back!" He chortled. "Hey, Chris! Our little birdie's back in the coop!" He guffawed. Another guy approached from down the hallway, a damp towel slung over his shoulder. He reeked of sweat, and drops of it fell from his chin. Like the first guy, he was a mountain of muscle, but his voice grated on the ears. Kasperine held her breath to avoid inhaling the stench.

"Yep, he's back," he closed in on Kasperine, leaning over her with a sinister grin. "Looks like we're in for some fun now." Chris extended his hand toward Kasperine, who instinctively recoiled, sweat beading on her forehead, hands trembling with fear.

"Step the hell back!" She managed in a barely audible whisper. Chris's hand froze, his face contorting into a grimace. His hand, poised to grab her, clenched into a fist as he snarled, "You wish!" He drew back his fist, ready to strike, but before he could, a voice cut through.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The tone was sardonic.

"Oh great, Mr. Know-It-All has something to say. Why not let me take a swing at this punchable face?" Chris rolled his eyes and glanced at a man who wasn't as beefed up as the others but exuded strength.

"Because," the man stepped forward, shoving Chris aside with one hand while keeping his eyes on Kasperine, "I've heard whispers that the Vipers are stirring. And you," he gripped Kasperine's jaw, smirking, "seem to be the catalyst."

"Huh?" A collective gasp of confusion filled the air, even Kasperine was taken aback. She pushed the man's hand away, shooting him a hateful glare.

"What's this garbage you're spouting? How could that even be possible? Everyone knows the Vipers disbanded after the third lord's death," Chris retorted.

"Tell her, Irsia. Am I lying? Didn't you hand over the seal to your father? Weren't you the one?"

Kasperine was lost, but she couldn't stand the guy's nerve. She'd rather have taken the punch than endure his venomous words.

"Get outta here, Gargal! Nobody wants to hear your crap!" Chris and his accomplice grabbed Gargal by his shirt and tossed him aside, their attention shifting to the newcomer as they pummeled him, giving Kasperine the chance to slip away unnoticed.