Takeuchi slowly stirred, feeling the softness of what seemed like an endless white surface beneath him.
His eyes fluttered open, revealing a room bathed in a surreal, glowing white light.
The boundaries of the space were indistinct, as if reality itself was unraveling.
Confused, he sat up, rubbing his eyes.
Before him sat a figure in a simple chair.
His heart skipped a beat—it resembled Nagata, but something about her was different.
Her long black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her dark eyes gleamed with an ethereal wisdom.
She wore an outfit unlike anything he had seen her in before—a sleeveless gown that draped elegantly over her figure, paired with long black pants.
She looked like a seasoned traveler, someone who had journeyed across worlds and carried the weight of countless experiences.
She seemed older, more mature than the bookish girl he once knew.
“Nagata?” he asked, his voice uncertain.
The woman smiled softly.