Nuvole Bianche | Luca Balsa x Reader

• 2 | False Reality •

Leaving my room meant that I had accepted a hellish pact. I'd rather stay inside and erase myself from this world in one go. It's cruel here, and I'm frightened by what lies outside.

Who is the owner of this game? Were they too cowardly to open the gates for me? The audacity to steer clear of the manor must mean they're too afraid to take part in the action. Though, I suppose scientists would not want to breathe the same air as their lab rats either.

A knock on my door interrupted my clouded thoughts.

"Lady, Y/n? It's Melly, er, Miss Plinius."

I slowly opened it, averting my eyes.

"Ah, Miss Plinius... Is it already time to go?"

"There's no need to be formal here, and we'd rather not establish close relationships anyway. It's easier to refer to me as Melly."

I once again followed her through the endless routes in the manor. There were many rooms, which seemed to hold over 30 guests. Yet, there was only one room where everyone would gather at the same time. Not because they wanted to interact, but because they were forced to. What did they do when they weren't participating?

Half of the four miserable seats in the dining room were occupied. One was taken by a handsome gentleman who twirled a pocket watch between his fingers. Beside him, a younger gentleman wearing a mask, assessing the objects in his briefcase.

"Each day, you can expect the possibility that a letter will have slipped under your door," Melly explained. "It indicates that you have been chosen to partake in a match. There are two per day, and they're often sent when you awake or after luncheon. While you spectate today, you'll get the chance to see how we collaborate against a hunter."

She then pointed to a curtain on the other side of the room, revealing nothing but an empty seat.

"That's where the hunter would abide. Who the hunter would be is not up for us to decide, so we have to be proactive."

"If I may ask, what is your ability, Lady Melly?" I asked out of the blue.

While I could barely see her face through her mask, I could sense she was surprised by the question.

"Well, I'm an Entomologist. The bees and pterygotas, being my only companions, can help "entertain" the hunter for a few moments."

"That's quite fascinating," I assured with a hint of glee. So this is how this game is played. It's not simply running around and defending yourself. Certain people have different ways to assist their teammates, creating an equal chance of survival.

She chuckled. "You suppose so?"

"Indeed. While my occupation is unheard of, I can conceive a few ways to support myself."

"Interesting. What do you do?"

"Hmm, I'd say I'm a 'Puppeteer.' I used to entertain young children with my handcrafted dolls and sold them to new mothers at times," I explained. "That was... until I became a social pariah. I was forgotten and shunned by my neighbours. No one wanted to acknowledge me, let alone accept my gifts for their children."

Melly considered consoling me, attempting to place her hand on my shoulder, but it must have made her uneasy. We'd hardly reached that level of intimacy, so she withdrew.

"I was already seen as odd because of my innocent crafts," I continued, "but I had to face even more humiliation when... my fiancé was arrested."

Shyly, I reached into my purse and presented a small doll. It was made out of thin yarn, paint and wood to allow the flexibility of its limbs, making it a little limp when held.