The transition was instantaneous. One moment, Emii was inhaling the scent of her mother's laundry detergent; the next, the air was saturated with the heavy, expensive aroma of sandalwood and rain.
She was back on the royal bed. The velvet curtains swayed with a ghostly elegance, and the golden wallpaper shimmered under the morning glow like a dream reborn.
"What the... no way," she whispered, her voice cracking as she stared at the familiar ornate ceiling. "Not again."
From the shadows of her mind, a calm, mechanical resonance vibrated through her skull—the sound of a digital god clearing its throat.
[Welcome back, Host.]
Emii squeezed her eyes shut, then smacked her cheek with a sharp thwack! "Wake up, Emii. Wake up. It's just a fever dream induced by too much cheap ramen," she hissed to herself. But the stinging on her cheek was indisputable. This wasn't a hallucination; it was a relocation.
[Host, your second mission has been successfully logged. Your performance was... unconventional.]
"What the heck? Why are you still here?!" Emii bolted upright, glaring at the empty air. "I thought I was done with the bedtime stories! I went to work! I ate parathas! I lived a normal, debt-ridden life for twelve hours!"
[This is not a story, Host. It is a parallel reality constructed within a narrative framework. You perceive it as a dream because your consciousness only tethers to this plane during your REM cycle.]
Emii's left eye twitched. "So, what? I'm essentially the star of a high-budget soap opera while I sleep? Fantastic. Next time, drop me into a Cinderella retelling—at least I'd get a glass slipper and a better commute."
[Host, have you forgotten the compensation? Millions in your primary world account. Three reality-bending promises.]
"Oh, I remember," she groaned, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "But I am exhausted today. My boss spent eight hours yelling at me about spreadsheets. I don't have the bandwidth for your missions. Talk to me tomorrow."
[Host, if you do not complete the mission, the tether will be severed. Permanent termination of the consciousness will follow.]
The word termination hit her like a bucket of ice water.
"What?!" she shrieked. "You're throwing death threats at me now? Is this how you treat your VIP talent? No wonder your 'Protagonists' are always so stressed!"
[Please remain calm. To ensure your cooperation, the System is prepared to offer a bonus. Upon your return to the primary world tomorrow, you will officially hold the title deed to a luxury apartment.]
Emii's indignation wavered. She tapped her chin, the gears of her survival instinct turning. "A house, you say? In the city? With a balcony?"
[Confirmed.]
"Fine," she sighed dramatically, collapsing back onto the silk pillows. "I'll fix this pig-brained heiress's mess before she burns her life to the ground. But tell me—why can't you keep her asleep while I'm gone? She's making my life a nightmare!"
[Negative. The original soul's consciousness remains active. You are merely a guest occupant.]
"Ugh! Then what is your actual function? You glitch, you spy, you give me vague instructions—you're basically a malfunctioning GPS with a god complex!"
[Host, emotional instability detected. Please engage in a meditative breathing exercise—]
"I'll show you a breathing exercise when I find your factory reset button!"