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A tall figure could be seen from the distance, walking through the woods.
She had short hair, as white as the snow that covered everything around her; the ground she was walking on, the trees guiding her way, and the massive mountains in the distance, that were barely visible through the fog.
Her powder blue eyes held their usual blank stare, cold to anyone who dared to speak to her. They radiated superiority, immense knowledge, and a pinch of pride.
She was wearing the LCB uniform like she always does, but something seemed off. The coat was larger than usual, and it trailed through the snow covered ground, just like a dress would.
She remained unfazed, though, keeping her eyes focused on a certain spot on the ground, marching forward to an unknown destination.
As she was passing by, a handful of snow fell on her shoulder from one of the tree branches above her.
And just like that, she seemed to awaken from a trance, finally becoming conscious and aware of her own existence.
Her actions weren't entirely her own, but neither were they completely controlled by something else either. She could walk properly, but couldn't do anything else.
Her movements were extremely slow, proper for someone who's tired and doesn't want to keep going, but does it anyway, against her will. She was trapped in her own body.
This did nothing more than to upset her. It wasn't pleasant, but she could get used to it, after all, there was nothing else she could do.
A quick glance at her surroundings was enough to know that she had no idea where she was, or where she was heading to.
The view was strangely beautiful and enjoyable, but she still needed answers, and she knew where to get them.
So she asked a single question: "Where is Faust headed to?" It resonated in her mind for a little bit... But there was no answer.
She tried again, and again, and again, but the result didn't change.
A crippling anxiety slowly began crawling up her back, threatening to kill the brief moment of peace before the realisation kicked in: no matter how hard she tried, it was impossible to contact the Gesellschaft.
Silence was her only companion for now.
Her gaze dropped again, fixed on the ground, devoid of any emotion, just like always.
She noticed something, a certain spot seemed to be calling for her presence, telling her to get closer.
Naturally, she did, even though there was no reason to.
She kneeled down next to a tree, her eyes focused on one of it's roots, and the snow that covered most of it's length.
Her hand reached out to touch it, slowly burying her slender fingers in that white coat.
She unexpectedly flinched at first, but the reason for it was the opposite of what she thought.
The feeling wasn't cold, nor soft. She couldn't really feel anything.
The numbness in her fingers soon began to spread throughout her body, enveloping her whole being, as if hands were pulling her down, drowning her in a sea of that familiar state of lassitude, the one she was used to experiencing every day.
Her vision was blurring out, and her limbs weren't able to function properly anymore, indicating that the feeling had reached it's final stage.
…
A high-pitched scream woke her up instantly. By the tone, she knew it was Don Quixote's morning call for Dante.
She turned around to look at the clock on the wall. It was 6AM, she had overslept.