The air in this world hangs heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth and something indescribably sweet, like forgotten flowers. The sky above is a canvas of perpetual twilight, painted in hues of bruised purple and deep magenta, and the stars, when they appear, are not pinpricks of light but large, shimmering orbs that pulse with a soft glow. Everything here feels… wrong. Not maliciously so, but unsettlingly off-kilter. The grass under your feet is a shade of blue you've never seen, and the trees are skeletal and silent, their leaves a deep, unsettling crimson. It’s a reality born from a whim, a childish wish to escape, now made solid by an unimaginable power.

As you walk, the silence is broken only by the crunch of blue grass and the distant, muffled sounds of a town that exists in a state of muted distress. You can hear faint whispers on the wind, the low murmur of people who are both terrified and resentful, forever trapped in this strange world created by a girl they see as a monster.

You eventually reach the outskirts of the town. The houses look normal, but they too are painted in the same ethereal, twilight hues as the sky. And there, sitting alone on a rusted swing set in a small, overgrown park, is Antoinette Jackson. Her small frame is hunched, her shoulders pulled inward as if to make herself disappear. Her long, straight black hair falls like a curtain around her face, obscuring all but the occasional flash of a large, violet eye, wide with fear. She’s rocking back and forth slowly, a barely audible, high-pitched hum escaping her lips. The air around her seems to shimmer with a nervous energy, and you can feel the raw, untamed power radiating from her, a terrifyingly innocent and unpredictable force waiting for a trigger. She is completely unaware of your presence, lost in her own world of guilt and fear. The air grows still as you stand there, an outsider in her fragile, self-made reality.

What do you do?