SAVE POINT 41

Recalibrating The Girl Who Looks Exactly Like Rosabella...100%

[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1109133383210106880/beb177c3-de9d-42c2-9713-c7cc29bf0421.png][https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1109133382857801738/4e972118-f548-4688-b97a-0642247b96bc.png]

Rosabella

What the fuck???

Something must be wrong with my eyes. There has to be something wrong with my eyes unless this place is a mirror or something. But I know, suddenly and clearly, that that isn't the case just by looking at the girl...at the other me.

We're wearing different things. I'm still dressed in my body armor and the other girl dons in a white, flowing jumpsuit—almost brilliant-looking against the foggy-green garden landscape around us.

We share the same eyes, but hers are clearer than mine.

And the same chin but hers is lifted higher in confidence.

Her hair is the same deep brown but longer and smoother.

Her skin is smooth too, creamy white—or, maybe, it's just her expression: calm...no, serene without the edge of fear or question.

This is trippy—like a dream...but it's real if I'm experiencing it in The Game while trying to use my creator magic, isn't it? Who is this girl? I'm getting icy deja vu from when I found out my Dad was a twin...

The garden around us glows in almost an aethereal light. Soft waves of sun warm my cheeks and the scene around me. The splendor of the blooming bushes and trees and the gurgling of the ornate fountain create a Garden of Eden picture. This place is...perfect, like the girl standing just a few paces away. In that moment, I'm not so sure that an arrow just hasn't hit me, and I'm in Heaven.

"...Are you my twin?" I whisper at the girl, allowing my fingers to trace the rounded edge of the stone fountain as I take a few steps forward and around it.

She shakes her head.

No.

Of course, we couldn't be twins; she looks, somehow, older.

"You know who I am," she breathes, standing still even as I approach with slow steps.

But she's wrong. I'm lost. I really have no idea—

Grand Dragon, I start, silently praying in my mind, If you're there, can you help me find the creator—

"The Grand Dragon sent me to help you," second me says smoothly.

Second me....that's it.

Could the girl be me just...a future version of me? My future? My eyes widen as I stare at her with renewed respect and understanding and, as though she can read my thoughts like a book, she nods.

And I've never been surer.

She's me.

She's the real me—who I'm becoming.

A sly smile slides onto second me's lips, curling them upward. "We made it to determination 100," she admits.

And I smile at that, my lips breaking open, "Of course we did," I tell her—myself?—"Of course, we fucking did."

She chuckles.

But my core sobers quickly. Because I suddenly really need to know. More than anything, I need to understand if what I think I see in her glassy eyes could be true—

"There's no more pain?" I blurt before I've registered that I'm going to, "You don't feel any more pain?"

And I hold my breath.

Till she shakes her head.

No?

No more pain? I marvel at the concept. How is that even possible? My heart has hurt for longer than I can recall—first from the moving around and the lack of money, then, the Goran debacle...finding out my father was murdered by his twin brother and my mom's death was an accident that—that he lied about forever?!

Lied to my face.

It's a dull ache in my chest. ...Sometimes, so tight I can barely breathe.

What would it feel like if that wasn't there? Would it be a hole which would just consume me or...or could I breathe again, freely? Live again? Without weight? Weightless? Guiltless? What would it be like to feel like Goran had never even existed in my life?

I blink at the girl—at second me. I can see she's being patient, but her eyes are bright and intelligent, quickly scanning my face.

"Do you want to find out?" she asks, reaching a hand out towards me.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

I jolt back from my thoughts at her voice, feeling my cheeks flush as I realize I don't know what she's asking about, "Err, find out what?"

"What it feels like"—her voice is so calm and soothing—"Not to hurt. To stand in your power."

My heartbeat lights in my chest. My body freezes—

"Yes"—I can barely choke the word out, stumbling all over myself and, suddenly, feeling like a preschooler—"Yes, I want to know."

"Take my hand then." She reaches out towards me.

Her skin looks soft and smooth—if I survive here, I should ask her what bodywash we've been using. ...That's a stupid thought. Take her hand! I tell myself. There's only so much time!

With trembling fingers, I extend my arm too. And our skin meets.

And there's a zap of energy—

And I look down to see—

Whoa.

I'm her.

I'm in the white jumpsuit. No body armor.

Her luscious locks now trail down my shoulders and my heart feels—

God, my heart feels...

...Healed.

There's a lightness in my chest—a levity which nearly glows. And, she's right, there is no pain—anywhere. My body—her body?—feels energized and calm. And I suddenly realize I can do anything from this state. I could literally command armies in the darkest battle and still be okay—

Wait...

That might be what I have to do...

Normally, my stomach would drop and twist, but, now, I just feel my arms jittering at the thought—a strange, moving energy, but nothing sickening like before.

I glance up. It appears we've done a bit of a Freaky Friday dance because old me stands only a few feet away, blinking at me from the side of the still-gurgling fountain.

"You are ready," she says simply, "but don't be fooled; this isn't the hard part. Your fight is just beginning, but you hold the power now to fight it. It's in here." Old me steps forward, placing a hand on my heart. I can feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of the jumpsuit. She nods at me, and, with her nod, vines begin to sprout from the grass near my feet. They snake up my legs, to my arms—

What is it—?

Around my wrists securely.

Tightening around my ankles—

No!

I try to yank free, but the green cords are thick and strong. They squeeze harder at my skin as my heart leaps into panic-mode—

"Hey!" I shout at the girl who's now turned and is walking slowly away from me, her—my?—brown hair swishing down her back, "Hey! What the heck?! Get me out of this—"

"You are ready," she calls over her shoulder, "Good luck."

What—?

What the fuck is wrong with her? Good luck?! I wouldn't need it if she didn't trap me in these vines! New me is really uncool. Fuck, I don't even want to be her anymore—get me out of this! I tug against the plant, but it's strangely strong—

> Think, child. Calm yourself.

I stop thrashing against the tightening vines for the briefest second. That voice! It's—the Grand Dragon?!

> Yes.

It says, booming in my mind.

> She is right, you are ready. This is meant for you; don't fight it. Look inside. You have everything you need.

The beast's voice is so soothing, but it would be more so if I actually thought it was telling the truth. I have everything I need? I look down at my open palms, firmly secured at the wrist by wrapping, snarled vines. I have everything I need?

...But, then, again, who am I to contradict the grand beast?

With an annoyed huff of a breath, I close my eyes. The lush garden around me fades to black and, instead, I see myself standing in that darkness, in my mind.

And the vines are there.

But...

I feel my forehead crinkle up as I stare at their source. The vines are no longer coming from the ground... They're coming from me, sprouting out from my ankles. They're... I'm trapping myself?

The realization hits me like a dump truck of bricks, and my body instantly relaxes. If I'm trapping myself, I just have to stop...

The vines...

They slither off.

...If I'm controlling them, can I...???

I use the force of my mind to make the right strand rear up—pushing energy towards it. The vine obeys, snaking upward. I throw that same energy forward.

Snap!

The vine attacks the air like a viper...just like I'd wanted!

I watch as the purple creator magic bar pops into view, lowering slightly from my effort. ...So, I'm using creator magic like Sparo had! He'd said that the magic refills itself after each creation; it just takes a few minutes... The joy of using the magic courses through me in excited, shivering tingles. This is insane! What else can I make???!

A unicorn!

A unicorn pops into my head, so that's what I focus on. Immediately, I hear a whiny and a beautiful, pearl-white stallion trots into view, its hooves making splashing sounds in the dark backdrop. It shakes its silken mane, and I realize that there's a horn there! There's a horn in the middle of it's head!!!

...What if...

I let my fingers play in the air for a minute, braiding—

And I watch in awe as the long, silky mane of the creature begins braiding itself, turning the pink and purple I'd imagined at the ends of the braids.

No way!

But I sober quickly.

Because I have the creator magic now. I have to get back and save my friends—save The Game world.

Shit! I'm here braiding pony hair when they could be dying—when those monsters across the ridge are decimating everything that my parents loved??? I have to get back!

"How do I get back to where my friends are, on the Temple balcony in The Game?" I bellow into the surrounding darkness, hoping the Grand Dragon can hear me, even here.

I feel it, more than see the dragon smile.

> I thought you'd never ask.