Wakaba Mutsumi's mind theater was currently submerged in a viscous darkness.
The only light source came from the enormous circular stage in the center, where a stark white beam of light pierced the void, illuminating the cold iron cage at the stage's heart.
Inside the cage, a girl sat quietly, her light green hair fanning over her shoulders.
Her wrists and ankles were bound and entangled by light blue electric chains, their glow like a living thing, silently crawling and flickering over her pale skin.
She was like a meticulously displayed offering, or a princess from a fairy tale awaiting sacrifice.
Below the stage, all sorts of plush toys were densely piled.
Teddy bears, rabbits, penguins, monkeys... Their once soft and harmless eyes now stared vacantly upwards at the iron cage, the depths of their pupils reflecting the stark white light from above the stage, congealing into solid patches of blood-red.
There was no sound, only countless cold gazes.
The air was suffocatingly still.
Suddenly, an eerie yet elegant Gothic melody flowed out of nowhere, carrying the ornate complexity of the Baroque period, yet infused with a chilling coldness that seeped into one's bones.
The heavy curtains behind the stage swayed gently, and a petite figure emerged from the shadows behind them.
Her footsteps were light, with a deliberate rhythm, and the stark white lights followed her, finally settling on the center of the stage.
The newcomer had a face identical to the girl in the iron cage.
It was Mortis.
She was still wearing her signature indigo Victorian dress, adorned with intricate lace ruffles. But the satin ribbon cinching her waist was meticulously embroidered with dark red thorn patterns; the edge of her skirt was also quietly stained with matching spots, like dried bloodstains.
Most striking was the bright red artist's beret on her head, completely out of place with the overall style. The hat was slightly askew, carrying a sense of absurd defiance.
"Mortis..."
Mutsumi in the iron cage looked up, her fingers gripping the cold iron bars.
"Oh dear!" Mortis on the stage suddenly covered her mouth, letting out an exaggerated gasp. Her steps quickened instantly, almost pouncing to the front of the cage, her hands tightly grasping the bars, her face nearly pressing against them.
"Mutsumi-chan! How did you end up here?!"
Her voice was filled with incredulous worry and distress, her brows furrowed, her eyes shining with genuine light.
"Who? Who was so mean as to lock you up!"
Mutsumi in the cage watched her quietly, her eyes as clear as unpolluted spring water.
That flamboyant performance was as clear to her as an arrogant extra's clumsy improvisation born of a sudden impulse.
The countless lingering shadows of "Mutsumi" that had been born and dissipated in the mind theater, even though they had scattered like dust in the wind, still left subtle traces, familiar to her.
That was the truth of her as a "child prodigy." And the "legacy" remaining after these personalities dissipated—the talent for imitation, the souls of those characters—were ultimately absorbed and integrated by Mortis before her, transforming into the "acting" that was now almost indistinguishable from reality.
At this moment, Mortis was perfectly replicating the essence of Mutsumi's mother, Mori Minami , in her role as the cunning and beautiful lead female villain in the currently popular urban drama.
The worry was tinged with deliberate artifice, and the distress concealed cold calculation.
"Mortis," the girl in the cage said softly, yet her voice pierced through the carefully constructed atmosphere of the other party.
"Let me out."
"Fuuki still needs me."
All expressions on Mortis's face instantly froze.
The exaggerated worry and distress, as if paused, solidified on her face, then peeled away little by little, revealing a pure, almost bewildered incomprehension underneath.
She slowly straightened up, and through the iron bars, she gazed deeply at the main personality in the cage.
"That... unreliable man?"
Mortis's voice deepened, carrying a wounded confusion.
"He's more important than Mutsumi-chan, yourself...?"
Her voice suddenly rose, taking on a hint of sharp accusation:
"Don't you know! This time, you almost died! Just by that much!"
She gestured with her fingers to indicate an extremely small distance, her fingertips trembling slightly with agitation.
"Staying by his side, Mutsumi-chan will only be deceived and constantly hurt!"
Mortis slammed her fist against the iron bars of the cage, emitting a dull thud, and the light blue electric chains seemed to hum in response.
Below the stage, the plush toys' blood-red eyes seemed to flicker.
Her dislike for Togawa Fuuki was long-standing.
Initially, that man, using some sweet talk, tricked a large meteorite fragment, which Mortis had treasured for a long time and considered priceless, from the innocent Mutsumi's hands.
How beautiful that thing was, sparkling, it was her rare, truly personal treasure in the mind theater!
If it were just that, Mortis might only have considered him an annoying liar, but not to this extent of hatred.
But everything spiraled out of control after that man said "Let's be friends" to Mutsumi!
First, this damned mind theater was suddenly forcefully crammed with a terrifying, crackling monster emitting dazzling blue light all over!
The violent electrical aura made Mortis instinctively tremble and recoil. She desperately tried to suppress it, exerting all her effort to seal it in a corner of the theater—that was her territory! Her domain!
But that hateful Fuuki, he actually forcibly interfered from the outside, stubbornly obstructing her sealing! Allowing that monster to completely integrate into this space, becoming an unshakeable, parasitic tumor that continuously drained her mental energy!
From then on, Mortis's days became even harder.
The mental energy that had been painstakingly accumulated in the mind theater was often inexplicably siphoned off by that blue-light monster to power its abilities.
Mortis was already exhausted from maintaining the theater and suppressing those restless "pasts," and now it was even worse, she was as weak as a shadow that could dissipate at any moment.
Although she couldn't directly see what was happening outside, through the fragmented images and sound bites occasionally caught on the flickering, snowy television screens in the mind theater, she could guess what was going on!
It must be that hateful man, using his false "friendship" as a pretext, deceiving the innocent Mutsumi and mentally manipulating her (PUA)!
He wanted to bind her tightly to his side, and then, like a gigolo, continuously and greedily extract her value, draining her spirit!
This realization filled Mortis with burning rage, yet also immense despair. She was trapped here, watching helplessly, yet unable to do anything.
Powerless anger burned her day and night.
Later, the "beastification" disaster that swept through Ikebukuro erupted.
Mutsumi was affected, turning into a delicate little cat. This was already bad enough, but that damned Fuuki, he actually took Mutsumi, who had turned into a cat, to that hellish place, Ikebukuro!
The final result... Mortis closed her eyes, as if she could still see the dazzling crimson that flashed across the TV static—Mutsumi, to protect him, was hit by a bullet fired by the US military!
During the time Wakaba Mutsumi was severely injured, completely lost consciousness, and fell into a deep slumber, Mortis, who had been suppressed, drained, and marginalized, finally reached her breaking point.
Long-accumulated anger and protectiveness broke through the cage.
She seized the opportunity when the main personality was extremely weak due to severe physical trauma and had lost control of the mind theater, and brazenly launched a long-planned "coup"!
She forcibly took over the core authority of the mind theater, immediately seizing control of that blue-light monster—'Lightning Rider'!
Then, she unhesitatingly "protected" the real Mutsumi, her only concern, the core personality, by completely locking her into this absolutely safe cage.
Now, it was time.
She would go out herself to confront the source of endless harm to Mutsumi, that utterly wicked Togawa Fuuki, who was entrenched in the outside world!
She would make him pay!
"Mutsumi-chan, just stay here and rest!"
Mortis's face once again broke into a smile, a smile so bright it was almost grotesque, eerily echoing the dark red thorns and bloodstains on her indigo dress.
She abruptly waved her hand, and the light blue electric chains wrapped around Wakaba Mutsumi's wrists and ankles suddenly tightened, emitting a more piercing crackling sound.
"That hateful man, Mortis will deal with him!"
The bright red artist's hat on her head now seemed to burn, becoming the most dazzling and ominous mark on this stark white stage.
Below the stage, the congealed blood-light in the eyes of countless plush toys suddenly became bright and began to flow.
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