Lisa dozed off on the bench, unaware of the time that had passed. By the time she woke up, sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing the room in a warm glow. The once-bustling hospital felt eerily silent, with only a handful of patients scattered throughout. It was puzzling. This was the very hospital renowned for its expertise, where patients traveled from distant corners of the nation to be treated by the esteemed university doctors.

Rubbing her eyes, Lisa recognized a couple of familiar faces. The doctors, whom she had known from her days of studying, exchanged brief glances with her. But there was something unsettling in their expressions. They appeared almost stiff, their gaze fixated on her attire. A quick look down revealed the state she was in—her clothes stained with blood, and over her cream-colored shirt, she wore a military vest.

The word "MireWorld" flashed across her mind.

That single word seemed to answer the questions swirling in her head, didn't it?

Stepping outside, Lisa sought solace in a breath of fresh air, but the atmosphere was different. While the buildings, trees, and the white puffs of clouds appeared the same, they exuded a surreal aura. But the most striking oddity was the people. Their movements were mechanical, their expressions vacant, as if the spark of life had been drained from them. 

The hospital, which should've been teeming with the hustle and bustle of patients and medical staff, felt more like a hollow shell. Strangely enough, doctors outnumbered patients. And yet, during her brief interactions with these doctors, they seemed... perfectly normal.

Lisa caught sight of a familiar face and called out, "Professor Hwang?" She raised her hand in a hesitant wave.

The professor responded with just a gentle smile and a nod, seemingly preoccupied. Without further ado, she turned on her heels and headed back to the hospital. Lisa shook her head, bemused, and then turned her attention to Burns' Corolla. Miraculously, it remained untouched, conspicuously parked right outside the emergency ward entrance.

Sliding into the driver's seat, Lisa started the car with a soft hum. She smoothly steered it away from the entrance and found a spot in the parking lot. With the engine purring, she flipped on the air conditioner, letting the cool air wash over her. Pulling out her phone, she quickly checked her messages. Empty. No new notifications.

Her eyes then darted to the Portable Armory app icon. Its presence was puzzling. What was its function? Was it even safe to open it now?

Driven by a mix of curiosity and caution, Lisa tapped on the app, scanning the interface for any useful options or information.

[Exit MireWorld]

Lisa then clicked the button. Four options appeared just right before her eyes. 

[Store Items & Return To Original Position]

[Keep Items & Return To Original Position]

[Store Items & Keep Position]

[Keep Items & Keep Position]

Hesitating only for a moment, Lisa selected the option [Keep Items & Return To Original Position]. She wasn't exactly sure of the consequences, but the last thing she wanted was to be stranded without her belongings—or worse, her clothes.

As she made her choice, a brilliant flash of light enveloped her, momentarily blinding her. The sensation was brief, almost as if someone had taken a photograph with a powerful flash.

As the light receded and her vision cleared, she found herself still in Burns' Corolla, but the surroundings were distinctly different. The familiar sight of the university parking lot stretched out around her. Blinking in surprise, she glanced at the car's clock. It read 08:45 A.M.

The transition was so seamless that, for a moment, she wondered if the entire MireWorld experience had been a dream. But the memories were too vivid, too tangible to be merely figments of her imagination. She took a deep breath, trying to process the events and what had just transpired.

What the hell???

Lisa's heart raced. The gravity of her situation hit her like a ton of bricks. She was in a public place, dressed in blood-stained clothes, with military-grade weapons clearly visible in the backseat. The normalcy of the bustling parking lot filled with fellow students, juxtaposed with her alarming situation, only amplified her anxiety.

She thought frantically. The sight of her in this state, especially in a car that wasn't hers, would be hard to explain. Panic bubbled up as she considered the possibility of getting caught, the potential involvement of the police, and the flurry of questions she'd be unable to answer.

Desperate for a way out, she instinctively reached for her phone, hoping to use the app once again to somehow fix or escape this mess. But the screen remained dark, unresponsive. She pressed the power button repeatedly, but it was futile. The battery was completely drained.

Lisa muttered under her breath, "You've got to be kidding me…". 

Caught in the university parking lot with machine guns and blood-smeared clothes was a nightmare she hadn't anticipated. Oddly, nestled among the weaponry in the backseat, was her backpack. It was an unfortunate realization that she didn't have a power bank or charger on hand. She needed a plan, and fast.

One option was heading to the university, borrowing a charger, juicing up her phone, and attempting a return to the MireWorld. Yet, with the conspicuous machine gun in clear view and her clothes stained with blood, this option held too many risks. Deceiving professors or doctors in this state would be disastrous.

She briefly considered donning the lab coat from her bag to discreetly look for a charger. But even the bulk of her bag wouldn't suffice to conceal the imposing length of the machine gun. Lingering in the car was becoming less and less viable with each passing second. She observed the slight webbing of cracks on some of the windows—likely from bullets. Were the windows made of some sort of bullet-resistant material that had prevented them from shattering? Either way, it was only a matter of time before security would spot the irregularities.

"Why did I ever agree to test Burns' app?" she thought, frustration building.

A new plan formed in her mind: exit the parking lot as swiftly as possible before drawing undue attention. No gunshots had been fired in this world—only in the other. Dealing with queries about the damaged car was a more manageable task. Lisa quickly removed the tactical gear she was wearing. The 1998 Corolla was nondescript enough to avoid attracting immediate attention, especially if no one paid close attention to the faint cracks in the windows.

With haste, she shoved the machine gun, rifle, and other equipment onto the car floor, covering them with her backpack and lab coat. From an outsider's perspective, the car now resembled the typically cluttered vehicle of a busy medical student. She hoped that the security wouldn't be too curious to inspect the car any further.

Lisa shifted the car into "D" and began to drive away from the university parking lot. Her hands quivered on the wheel, gripped by a sudden surge of anxiety. Oddly, facing bullets hadn't been this unnerving. Maybe the tangible threat of being exposed and questioned in familiar territory was more alarming than any alternate reality danger.

As she neared the university gate, she recognized Adam, the security guard. He'd been on duty there for as long as she could remember. Over the years, they'd built a friendly rapport, especially since Lisa often gifted him coffee during her late-night study sessions.

Adam signaled for her to stop. "Just a second, ma'am." He approached, his typical cheerful demeanor replaced by a furrowed brow. "Everything okay?" After a brief, pregnant pause, recognition dawned on his face. "Oh, Lisa, it's you."

Attempting to sound as casual as possible, Lisa replied, "Hey, Adam. What's up?" It wasn't like she could hide her identity; her face was too familiar to him. Although not the sharpest tool in the shed, Adam was a genuinely good soul.

He gestured to the conspicuous blood stains marring her shirt. "What's this about?"

She inhaled deeply, steadying herself. "Just another day in the anatomical lab," she said with a laugh that she hoped didn't sound too forced. "Dissections can be... well, a bit chaotic sometimes." She silently prayed he wouldn't realize that senior students like her rarely ventured into those labs anymore.

A bemused expression flitted across Adam's face before he chuckled, "Ah, brings back memories. My son used to rant about the mess during his college days. You might want to consider changing before heading out."

"That's the plan," she replied, feigning lightheartedness. "Didn't realize how conspicuous it was until you pointed it out. Heading home to freshen up now."

Adam's gaze lingered on the car for a moment longer than she would've liked. "This isn't your usual ride, is it? Where's the Camry?"

"I rented this one. My Camry's in the shop," she said, hoping her explanation sounded plausible.

He squinted at the windows, detecting the bullet marks. "Those look like bullet holes."

"Seems so. I mean, the rent was a bargain at $4 a day. Guess you get what you pay for," she responded with a shrug, feeling her heart rate accelerate.

Adam nodded slowly, a hint of suspicion lingering in his eyes. But after a moment, he merely said, "Stay safe out there, Lisa."

"Thanks, Adam. Will do." She offered a thankful smile, hiding the adrenaline-fueled panic simmering beneath. As she drove away, relief washed over her. She'd narrowly escaped what could've been a disastrous interrogation.

"That was a close one," she mused to herself. "I must've used up all my luck for the year just now."

She then parked in her apartment building garage, trying to come up with a plan. The guns had to be stashed somewhere safe, and she needed to clean up and change her clothes. The bloodied attire wouldn't do her any favors if she ran into anyone else she knew. For now, she wanted the weapon to be out of the car. 

Lisa's fingers worked quickly, efficiently stashing the vest and helmet into her backpack. The bulk of it made the bag strain at its seams. She then carefully wrapped the rifles in her lab coat, trying to make it look like a bundle of laundry or project materials. To anyone passing by, it would seem like the bag was filled with thick medical books and the lab coat carried some equipment.

Her heart rate had somewhat stabilized, but she was keenly aware of every sound around her. The distant conversations, the occasional car passing by, even a stray cat rummaging in a nearby dumpster. Any one of these could be a potential witness.

Making it to her building without any encounters, Lisa swiftly climbed the stairs to her apartment on the third floor. As she fumbled for her keys, she could hear muffled laughter from a neighboring unit and the soft notes of a piano being played somewhere above her. The mundane sounds of daily life felt both comforting and surreal given what she had just experienced.

Once inside, Lisa immediately locked her door and let out a long breath. She set the bundled rifles in a corner and dropped her heavy backpack onto her couch. The sense of urgency was palpable. She knew that the longer she stayed in this reality with evidence of the MireWorld, the higher her chances of getting caught became.

Lisa retrieved her charger and connected her lifeless phone to it. The screen sprang to life immediately, displaying the familiar charging icon. As her phone slowly regained its energy, she turned her attention to herself. Removing her blood-streaked clothes, she placed them in the laundry basket. The sight of the blood, vivid and chilling, gave her pause. The reality of it was undeniable.

She headed for the shower, letting the warm water cascade over her, washing away the grime and residue of her recent ordeal. The steam enveloped her, and the familiar scent of her favorite soap grounded her momentarily.

Once dry, she slipped into fresh clothing and returned to her now partially-charged phone. The rapid charge feature had done its job. With a sense of urgency, she opened the Portable Armory app. Her fingers paused, hovering above the "Enter MireWorld" button. A swell of hesitation filled her. Did she have the fortitude to reenter that chaotic realm? Could she face the prospect of being shot at again? Was the risk truly worth the potential reward?

After a long, introspective moment, she decided.

Not now. Not today.