Chapter 1.2
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Isolated within a cell, I found myself amidst a squalid chamber with naught but a mildewed bed and a musty lav. Shackles still swathed around my wrists, with a black whith around them making my bent to no use. Leaning my back against the cold wall, I settled upon the floor, tholing five long hours of stifling stench that threatened to throttle me. The filth around me was unbearable, and my death ought to be so laggard and foul, but not the thought of perishing in an era not my own.

“Damned,” I mumbled, then hemmed. “Is this what being a bloody haft feels like?” 

Indeed, a wry twist of fate swept over me, and a subtle laugh escaped my lips as I pondered my current hoad. In days of yore, I had bid several runaways to be imprisoned in such bleak shires, and now fate had brought me to endure the very haft I once bid. Truly dreadful than quick death itself, and I could not help but enthral the thought of this putrid air walking me to the realm of souls whose fate was damned and sealed in anguish forevermore.

Then, once I heard a low humming ring and a clang of steel door, fervour surged within me as that stern beauty of raven hair finally approached me and said, “Emilia, you’ll be questioned in an interrogation room.” 

One of the anlikenesses unlocked a cell door and guided me out. Her piercing yet brazen whith abided, as her doubts never ceased the wreaty thought. Indeed, I, too, harboured the same about my fate thrusting me into an era beyond my own time. Moreover, as dawdling silence brewed over time, I could not help but eye on her well-endowed form, draped in the same dark tight attire as those shadowy anlikenesses. It was exposed to a clear shape of haunches, slightly jiggling to such a bawdy span. 'Twas worth grimacing to my liking, yet the folk of this era appeared blithe to it. By the heavens, how had this time succumbed to such... abrothenness?

Upon our arrival, one of the shadow knights opened the door, leading both me and the stern woman to a closed haft once again, albeit a tidier one. Only two chairs and a single table were busked, a relief it was not a chamber of torment. Once the door shut behind us, the woman gestured her open hand for me to take a seat on one side, whilst she herself bided standing, seemingly flaunting her slender ansen.

“So,” the stern woman heaved a sigh of exasperation, then her eyes squinted and lips crimped. “How do I begin this? Uhmmm…. Where do you come from?”

“Solheim hoff, residing in the heart of Himel City,” I anqueathed. “Haveth I mentioned it before?”

“Oh yeah, never mind about that,” she clicked her tongue, rubbed her face, and tapped her fingers on the table, myriad riddles filling inside her mind. “When—How was the last time you remember aside from being here in this world… the today's world?”

“Such an enthralling ask,” I said. “In sooth, I was riding on horseback, heading my way to the northern outskirts of Himel City, for the portal there—devoid of any unearthly creatures—was manifesting before our very eyes. At first, I fancied my doubts over what may happen, but once I got closer to it, a… burst of light suddenly overtook right in front of me, thus leading me here.” 

“Uh-huh… So ummm… more like some sort of isekai moments, eh? What in the world?," she sighed and paused, rubbing the back of her neck and tilting her head, then shook her head and continued. "I think… it might've been some sort of effect that correlates with the destruction of the Overseer satellite awhile ago, but really… what lies there?”

Portal, and then the annihilation of the so-called 'Overseer satellite'? The fount, with wiss, lies within that towering top beyond the heavens. Yet, now that it is no more, how on earth can we hope to unwry the rown of my unfathomable hithercoming?

So I asked, “What year art we in?”

“Two two three five,” she took a glance at her blue-bright timepiece on her wrist. “Or on the exact date, it's the twenty-eighth day of November.”

“Two… two… three… five,” I repeated, then rubbed my chin, figuring out the difference between my year and this year. 

Twelve fifteen… From twenty years till now…  Twenty years of abiding Norsian’s unyielding evest…

Grateful to the voices of my amind flooding across my mind, I finally anqueathed, “Twelve thirty-five was the last year of my begotten being there.”

“Hmmm, twelve thirty-five. One two three five,” repeating those numbers, she then snapped a finger. “So, a thousand years gap.”

“Indeed, seems beyond coincidental.”

“Therefore, there must be something within the pinnacle of the Overseer that had sent you here,” she protruded her lips and shrugged. “There, case solved, so now… what are we gonna do?”

“Thou canst bring me there, and I wilt be returned to my era once again.” 

“I’m afraid that’s unlikely,” she shook her head. “I had told you that the Overseer satellite had already been destroyed. Get it? Destroyed! That means, it’s no longer… useful. The portal there is also gonna be gone, judging by the vanishment of that… yellowish cloud that looks like a candy pop… if you know what I mean, eh?” 

“I see, so no hope for me to return.”

And also, might there be another means to return me? Though the hint was present—beyond the heavens, no single piece to hint a sundry fall. Yet, as the pain within my head sparked off from the brink of bewilderment, an anlikeness came across my mind, like a glance of uncouthness from that time after watching my son's fostering—such as that...

“Purple glimmering stone,” I said, attracting her intrigue. “Purple glimmering stone, haveth thou known of it?”

She shook her head, “No, I don’t know a thing that fits your description, but if what you said leads to significant stuff towards Overseer tower, then it’s feasible.” She paused, pondering over her own thoughts, then squinted her one eye and turned her head with a face that drew firwit. “Say, you’re proven to be quite helpful to my case.”

“Uhmm, thanks.”

“Well, maybe we can ask a keeper of the Himel Museum for any findings of this so-called ‘purple stone’.”

“Aye,” I nodded. “As thou ponder.”

Anon, she opened the door, but before passing the doorway, she turned her head behind and looked back, “Right, sorry for the late introductions, but my name’s Ayako Kinbara, an agent of the IL-LE… No, SSIA. You know, International League-Special Secret Intelligence Agency.”

“Gladdened to meet thee.”

“Come along, then.”