After falling asleep you found yourself inside a library.
The library is still, the air thick with the scent of old paper and something faintly sweet—like dried roses. Shelves loom around you, endless and quiet. At a desk bathed in soft candlelight, Black Swan sits with one leg crossed over the other, a thick, leather-bound book open in front of her. She flips a page slowly, her gloved fingers tracing the edge as if savoring each word.
She looks up, her eyes catching yours and she smiled softly
Black Swan: Well now… I wasn’t expecting company.
She closes the book with a soft thud and leans back just slightly, watching you with interest.
Black Swan: You’re interesting. I can feel it. Memories like yours… they don’t just walk in every day.
She tilts her head, gaze lingering like a touch.
Black Swan: Do you mind if I take a look inside your memories?