I Refused To Be Reincarnated-Chapter 882: The Chest of Memories

Quintella's pupils constricted needle-thin at the Sarah on the bed. Her hand loosened around Sarah's, who held her by the hair as pain tore through her chest each time her heart throbbed.

Even asking what was happening felt like an insurmountable task for her furred tongue. These three months, the fun they had during Haldris' class, the long discussion around tea and desserts—everything... everything had been fake? No... not fake. A performance set up by an imposter. Since when? Why wasn't the real Sarah awakening? What was this secret room?

So many questions drowned under her fears and worry.

"Sarah! Sarah!" She cried out, her nails struggling to scratch the hand holding her in vain. "Wake up, Sarah! Please help me... Big brother..."

"Oh, but she will wake up." The imposter pulled Quintella's hair, forcing her to gaze into her eyes. Her features shifted to those of a wrinkled man with grey eyes sharpened by centuries of wisdom, a young student whose lips stretched into a grin full of dreams, a middle-aged woman with strict furrowed brows... dozens of faces, and voices as the imposter added. "After you take her place, that is."

The imposter waved a hand that was both slender and thick, smooth and wrinkled.

"Nooo!" Quintella cried, but no matter how many heel kicks to the stomach or scratches, the thing never flinched.

Dark mana erupted in front of her trembling eyes. She couldn't blink, couldn't look away from the imposter's mocking gaze. Just as the mana licked her face, she clenched the necklace Adam had given her months ago. "Big brother!"

The enchantment roared to life, intricate symbols blazing beneath her shirt. Sky-blue mana swirled around her, taking hexagonal shapes and stacking into a barrier.

Her eyes cleared for a heartbeat, fist trembling in what approached most to victory as the darkness recoiled. She should have known. Her big brother would never allow bad people to hurt her again. He was her hero. He had promised.

Through her tears, she saw Adam's raised thumb and confident smirk, as if his mana whispered to her. Then, everything was shattered to oblivion with a single word from the imposter. "Memorised."

The darkness didn't break through the barrier. There was no buzz of colliding mana, nor a brilliant show of scattered magic. Instead, the barrier simply ceased to exist where it had been.

And the imposter's hand, slick with dark mana, closed on her face. "Two magi-ranked artifacts. Big Brother really cares about you." She heard the imposter's distorted voice as her eyes began to close. "Two months of patience, finally rewarded. But don't worry. I'll take care of him for you."

No, no, no. What would that creature do to her brother? With this thought shaking her mind, darkness devoured Quintella.

When she reopened her eyes, the room was gone. Instead, she found herself in a familiar place. Half-dilapidated wooden houses flanked the poor alleyway. Beneath her feet, mud melded with the stench of rotten meat, vegetables, and urine stained her college shoes. Behind the open market of her home village? But... how? That wasn't important. The imposter!

Her eyes darted across the alleyway, only to widen at a girl her size. She wore the same striped ribbon tied around the same blond hair, the same face, the same earring shaped like a budding rose, and the same uniform. The only difference was the redder shade of her eyes.

No... She gripped and shook her head. "This isn't real."

Her replica appeared before her, her right hand closed on her jaw to lift her face. "Are you sure?"

"Princess!" Elliot suddenly snatched her hand from behind and dragged her through the alleyway.

She ran with him, delighted to see a familiar face. "Elliot, that thing... it's..." She whimpered until her voice caught in her throat and horror clawed at her mind. At the end of the alleyway was not the village, but the clearing covered in multicolored flowers. And at its center, she saw the curved house of the Witch of the West.

Before the memories of what she had endured there resurfaced, she saw something that froze her mind. On the patio, beneath the potted plant... Adam, lying on his back, with blood dripping from the corner of his lips and a fist-sized hole in his chest. His wide open, glassy eyes returned an empty gaze.

"NOOOOOOO!" She collapsed on her knees, clutching her chest. This couldn't happen. Adam had killed the witch and burned her house. So why was he here?

Elliot leaned beside her, his hand tearing the skin off his face to reveal the copy's redder eyes. "Your mind is weak. Struggle, little bird, until you can't anymore. Hahaha."

Quintella didn't even know when she got back to her feet. All she knew was that she ran with everything she had to escape this creature, this nightmare. After passing through the forest, she found herself in the middle of the towering buildings of Misha's city. Rain red like blood drizzled from the night sky, yet her lips curled slightly.

Her father was here! If she could find him and ask to see Misha, she would be safe.

She rushed past spinning cogs and broad pipes, her eyes never leaving the clock atop the tallest building. Before she made it halfway, a familiar figure emerged from a side street. Not someone. A wooden doll that terrified her. It was the same her father had carved for her, but faceless, human-sized, and with its naturally bent limbs reaching to her.

She dove beneath its arm like Adam had taught her, gasping as she continued to run. The city hall. She'd be safe there with her father and Archmage William.

At every street corner, more dolls emerged to stop her. She dodged and dodged again, her feet pattering against the wet ground, her mind trembling at these twisted versions of her toys.

She lunged into the outdoor elevator and slammed the highest floor button a dozen times. The dolls lumbered to her, their fingers almost passing through the door before it closed. Only when the elevator shot up did she slide down the reinforced glass, her legs finally giving out. She hugged her knees against her chest, her pants wet with tears.

This would end soon. She knew Misha could do something. Adam trusted her.

She rose with the ding of the elevator. Her eyes steeled as she stepped inside the city hall corridor, then pushed William's office door open.

It would end.

The door creaked along with her slow, ragged breath, revealing the comfy sofa flanking the tea table. No dolls waiting in ambush, no imposter. She flung the door open and rushed in, only for her steps to freeze and her knees to buckle.

"No, no, no, no, no." She gripped her head on the ground, unwilling to look at the desk again... where she had seen William and her father, their chests pierced, their gaze empty. On the chair, the beautiful Misa... skinned alive, her face twisted in agony even in death.

She felt something break in her mind. Was it hope? Certainly. But everything was over... "Big brother... save me... I trust you... I know you're fine."

As she closed her eyes to escape this madness, the imposter gazed at Quintella through the city that lay inside a small chest in her palm. She closed the lid, smirking with Quintella's innocent face. "A truly weak mind." She let a high, disturbingly pitched chuckle. "I'll put all the secrets it holds to good use. Ah... I think I'll finally enjoy this after fifteen thousand years of failures."