I managed to make two cloth dolls that look very much like me and Ylya, and by cutting a square in a red cloth and hanging it on some magical threads, I created an improvised stage.

This way, I can hide behind the cloth while the two puppets appear in front of the square to talk. I truly hope this helps Ylya return to reality.

I thought about many things while doing this. One of them was that if I use my [Domain], I could probably force the summoning of Eve and Syl'Vyr to my location, but there's a problem with that.

First, I don't know how to use my Domain properly. The first time was just luck that it worked. If I try to use it now, I might just expend all my power and fail. The second problem is that the violent release of magic would undoubtedly attract the dungeon's own artificial monsters.

So, using my Domain is out of the question for now. That's why I'll focus on trying to wake Ylya up.

"Hhmm, hmmm." I make a sound in my throat, testing my voice. Incredibly, one "ability" my body has is the capacity to perfectly mimic any voice.

Actually, this isn't exactly an ability. It happens because I'm a marionette, meaning I can easily modify my vocal cords at any time.

Since I can perform bizarre movements with my body, altering my vocal cords is the least of my problems. So, remembering Ylya's voice, I try to copy it.

"Testing... testing... I am Ylya, and I'm an idiot who fought with the magnificent Evelyn because I was too rebellious!" I say, adjusting the pitch and timbre. The beginning of the sentence sounds strange, but it quickly improves, becoming an exact copy of Ylya's voice.

'This is much easier than expected!' I crouch down behind the hanging red cloth, hiding 100% of my body, while I place the two dolls in my hands and raise them up.

'I'll have to switch my voice tone with every new line... This will require effort... I need to concentrate.' I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with air before letting it all out in a long sigh, and then I begin to speak.

"Ylya, why do you seem strange today?" the Evelyn puppet asks the Ylya puppet, who has her head lowered.

"Ah, it's just that I'm having some troubles," the Ylya puppet says, keeping the subject neutral. I don't know what Ylya's problem is, so I need to be 100% neutral in what I say.

"That sounds terrible! But I'm sure I can help you. How about we talk about it?" the Evelyn puppet says, moving its arms animatedly.

"I... don't want to. It's personal," the Ylya puppet says with the rebellious tone of the real Ylya. I feel stupid for doing this, and I can't even see how Ylya is reacting to this stupid interaction, but I continue.

"I understand. Then you don't need to force yourself. I would never force a... friend to talk about something they don't want to. But I want you to know that I'm here."

"And if you need to vent about your problems, I'll listen! I'm great at that." The Evelyn puppet shakes animatedly, trying to convey its enthusiasm to the Ylya puppet.

"...Can I... really trust you?" the Ylya puppet asks, while the Evelyn puppet opens its arms and pulls her into a tight hug.

"Of course you can. We're friends... We might have fought before, but we should stick together. If you're having troubles, I'll help you, and I want you to help me when I have problems too..."

"So please... don't isolate yourself in your mind. Come out here. If not to talk, at least come out to complain about how long we're taking..." The Evelyn puppet speaks sentimentally, stroking the Ylya puppet's head.

'This is uncomfortable...' I feel my vocal cords adjusting with every line. Changing and maintaining a voice is easy, but switching voices with every line causes me discomfort. Still, I continue.

"Evelyn, are we really friends?" the Ylya puppet asks while the Evelyn puppet strokes her head.

"Of course, we're friends! We might have met only a short time ago! But we are friends! Just like Yter is our friend too." When the Evelyn puppet says this line, I feel a pressure on my hand.

I look up and see Ylya holding the Evelyn puppet. She has a frightened look, and her hand is trembling, but she seems to have returned.

"...How... did you imitate my voice..." she asks. Her voice is fragile and broken, nothing like the rebellious girl from before or the girl who said she would kill me as she charged.

"...Is that your biggest concern right now?" I say in her exact voice, which gives her chills. It's precisely her voice without any difference, an imitation that is practically unreal.

"...Why did you do this?" she asks, letting go of my hand as the cloth I used as a stage collapses now that I don't need to hide. I remove the puppets from my hand and return to my normal voice.

"Because you were acting all strange... and I couldn't just abandon you to die. So I thought maybe puppets would help you return to reality," I say, sitting down leaning against the cave wall.

"...What you said... are we friends? For real?" she asks in a muddled way, as if the word 'friends' were strange to her.

"Of course... we're friends. Just because we met a short time ago doesn't mean we can't have a friendship. We've already had a fight, we cursed each other out, and now we're here," I say, somewhat sarcastically.

"..." She just sits down beside me, unable to hide her trembling.

"...What happened to you?" I ask, not really expecting an answer.

"...I... I'm... afraid... of this place... I was... thrown into a place like this before... I-I was a noble once... b-but my family picked a fight with one of the candidates for the throne..."

"W-We were destroyed... a-and he threw me into a dungeon to die along with my family... I-I saw everyone die... right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything... Y-Yter saved me... but since that day, I can't handle these red areas of the dungeon well..." She actually tells me what happened.

'So it's trauma...' I know who it was. From her description, it's obvious it was a man. If it were Augustus, she'd be dead. If it were Laplace, she would have been raped to death or raped and then thrown in some corner.

The only one who would do this to her is Lucien, who likes to get "creative" with his enemies. Only he would go through the trouble of throwing a defeated enemy into a dungeon under specific scenarios.

"I-I can't... handle this... I-I lost everything that day..." She begins to cry and breathe heavily. It quickly gets worse, and I see she's hyperventilating.

"Hey..." I was about to say something, but I hear cracking sounds in the trees outside. Yet there's no wind. The cracks aren't close, but there's something out there. Normally it wouldn't be a problem, but the timing is terrible.

"Hey, be quiet!" I jump on top of Ylya and shove a cloth into her mouth, but she starts to suffocate because she's hyperventilating and can't breathe through her mouth, so I'm forced to remove the cloth or she'll die.

She starts making even more noise as I hear the cracking sound again, this time a little closer.

'If she doesn't quiet down, we'll be found!' I think about shoving something else in her mouth, but she'll stupidly choke and die. My brain seems to fry with panic and fear.

It's a tight space; if we're found, I won't be able to escape. I quickly think about how people normally quiet someone who's making noise when they shouldn't.

I try to cover her mouth with my hand, but she becomes even more frightened, which worsens her breathing further, and she starts to struggle.

'Damn it!! This bitch!!! She owes me big time after screwing me over so much!' It's obviously fate. What are the chances of her having a panic attack just when something dangerous is outside?

"..." This time the crack is extremely close. It seems to come from the area behind the cave, meaning any loud sound inside will alert whatever is outside. It also means the thing outside is less than 50 meters from us.

"Ah, fuck it!" I grab her hands, lying on top of her body while holding her arms to prevent her from struggling, and then I kiss her, shoving my tongue inside her mouth.

She cries desperately, thrashing about, but with me on top, she doesn't make much sound. I use the kiss and my tongue to keep her quiet and breathing, while I squeeze my hands with all my strength to prevent her from struggling.

To block any sound, I'm forced to push my tongue deep inside, intertwining it with hers to stifle her sounds.

'Be quiet!! STOP MOVING!!' I bite her tongue, tasting the coppery flavor of blood. Maybe the pain will make her regain her senses. Somehow, this makes her stop moving so much.

Only now do I notice that she also bit me in her desperation, making my lip start to bleed. To prevent the smell of blood from escaping, I start sucking, drinking the saliva mixed with blood.

'How disgusting! How disgusting! I hate this!! What the hell! And every other curse word!' The taste of blood is strange, and I don't like it, but I force myself to suck and drink so nothing catches the scent.

Slowly, she stops moving, but she's still crying and sniffling, so I can't break the kiss. And since I can't break the kiss, I'm forced to keep sucking.

'This bitch cut my lip badly...' Even while sucking, the amount of blood isn't from a small cut. So if I don't maintain this humiliating position, the scent will undoubtedly escape.

I don't even know if the monster outside is good at smelling, but I can't risk having the smell of blood spreading, and even worse, letting this girl keep sniffling.

'Dammit! My first deep, serious kiss was with a girl I don't even like, and it tastes like blood... I hate fate!' I maintain the position like this, feeling her sobs being muffled.

Her chest rises and falls in a slightly more stable rhythm, following the rhythm of my own chest pressed against hers.

Fortunately, she stops moving completely. She seems to be recovering from the panic attack, but I won't take any chances, so I keep holding her while maintaining the kiss, sucking the mixture of saliva and blood.

'I-I didn't know... a girl's lips... were so soft...' As my fear of death subsides, I realize the strange thing I'm doing. Despite the strange taste, the kiss isn't exactly bad.

Her lips are soft, and her body is warm in a somewhat comforting way. We stay in this position, in this kiss, for 10 minutes, until our breathing synchronizes.

Her chest and mine rise and fall in rhythm, which seems to have helped stabilize her erratic breathing—long enough for whatever was outside to have left.

By now, Ylya only lets out weak sniffles, so I finally break the kiss, seeing how my lips and hers have become bright red from my sucking.

A reddish string of saliva connects my lips to hers, which seems lewd and obscene in many different ways. Her face and mine are completely flushed as we breathe heavily, but in the same rhythm as each other.

"...Don't tell anyone about this," I say authoritatively as the string breaks when I pull away. I get off her, moving a few meters away to give her space to compose herself and to give myself space to think about how strange all of this was.

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