The fall

Chapter 22

Penelope

I woke up with a jolt, my body heavy and disoriented. My eyes struggled to adjust to the dim, sterile light above me. The room I was in was almost empty—bare walls, no windows, no warmth. The only thing in it was the thin mattress I was laying on and a small metal table across the room, it's surface cold and uninviting.

As I tried to sit up, I felt it: the sharp, unsettling pressure around my neck. My fingers instinctively reached for it, and I found a collar—cold metal, tight against my skin. It wasn't just a collar; It was something more. A dull, throbbing sensation pulsed through me, like my very essence was being blocked, suppressed. My powers. I could feel them, like a well sealed tight, a force held back by whatever this thing was.

Panic crept up my spine, and I pushed myself off the mattress. Scrambling to my feet and my heart racing. No no no no. I needed to get out, needed to escape. My mind screamed for me to summon my sword, to break free, but the collar... it was stopping me.

Through my haze of confusion, I saw him. The man who they called Doctor Fray. He stood behind a glass wall, watching me with cold, calculating eyes. The same man who had stopped the soldiers from executing me. The man had mentioned the Dorothea project.

I clench my fist before charging forward, my punch landed a sharp hit, but the glass didn't even budge. I kicked it, my foot slamming into the surface. But it was no use. The glass didn't even shudder.

From the other side, Doctor Fray's voice was calm, detached. "It's no use," he said, as though he was explaining something simple. "That glass is designed to contain you. And that collar..." He didn't finish, but I could hear the unspoken words.
It's  keeping you from being a threat.

I slammed my fist against the glass again, my frustration rising, but the cold, indifferent stare from his side of the wall never wavered. His voice then cut through the tension. "You've been unconscious for two whole days," his eyes never leaving mine as I step back from the glass. "You were exhausted, had a fever. We took care of you."

I glared at him, two days? Two whole days, that means Blake is definitely searching for me. I clench my fists at the thought of him, I still haven't processed that he's lied to me for so long.
"Why did you help me?" The question slips out before I could stop it.

He doesn't answer immediately. Instead, his expression softens before he sighs through his impassive demeanor.
"Because you're important," He starts, though his words held no warmth. "At least, you will be. Once you understand who you are."

I wanted to ask more—about this collar, project Dorothea, what he means about "who I am"—but something else he said cut through my thoughts.
"May I ask your name?" He asks, as our eyes lock together.

"Penelope, Penelope Dorothea."

I notice him clenching his fists at his sides while breathing out in relief. Does he know something? He definitely knows something about me. He nods in confirmation at the sound of me telling him my name before looking at me with a kind smile.
"That's a lovely name. Your mother sure had taste."

My eyes widen.
What?