I awake with a start, the inn's morning light filtering through the half-drawn curtains. I rub the sleep from my eyes, disoriented. "What time is it?"
"Master, it's the morning—the very one when the assassins invaded and severed Master Meridian in the virtual realm," Dea responds.
Confusion wraps around me like a thick blanket. "Can you explain? It feels like I've been lost in time."
"Yes, Master. The True Source implored me to guide you into the deeper layers of the virtual world. It must have felt like two decades for you, but in reality, only six hours have passed since the assassins' departure." Dea answers, summoning a virtual video, a visual aid to fill the gaps in my memory.