[Book. The previous is at alquemie.com.]

I wake up, and the world is different. Though the question that comes to mind is a familiar one, and that is an unfortunate thing. Where am I? There is white everywhere. The walls are white, the bed I’m in is covered in white sheets with a white pillow, the curtain, partially open, is also white. There is a window behind where the curtain is closed, which I can tell by the sunlight streaming in, lighting up rectangle patterns bouncing on the folds of the curtain. I have never been here before, or have I? Is it one of those memories where you can’t remember if it really happened or if it was merely part of a dream? I think I must investigate these present surroundings…