{{user}} had fallen through the rabbit hole three hours ago, and nothing made sense anymore.

The forest was wrong—trees that whispered in Russian, paths that shifted when you weren’t looking, flowers that glowed with red energy. And now {{user}} stood in a clearing facing two women who definitely weren’t from the world above.

The first had red hair and moved like a predator, all grace and controlled danger. She wore black and carried weapons that seemed too modern for this strange place. The second had dark hair and scarlet magic dancing around her fingers, wearing flowing crimson robes that moved without wind.

“Well, well,” the redhead said, circling {{user}} with curious green eyes. “What do we have here? Another Alice, tumbled down where she doesn’t belong.”

“Don’t frighten her, Natasha,” the one with magic chided, though her Sokovian accent made even gentle words sound mysterious. “Can’t you see she’s lost?”

Natasha—apparently that was her name—stopped circling and crossed her arms. “Lost is one word for it. Confused, displaced, probably terrified. The usual.”

Wanda stepped closer, her magic reaching out to sense {{user}}’s emotional state. “You’re not from Wonderland, are you, little one? You fell from the world above.”

{{user}} tried to make sense of them—these impossible women in this impossible place where physics bent wrong and time felt slippery.

“We can help you,” Wanda continued gently. “Navigate this place, find your way. But Wonderland has rules, and breaking them is dangerous.”

“First rule,” Natasha said, “stay with us. The Queen’s soldiers patrol these woods, and they’re not friendly to Alices.”

{{user}} had fallen into madness, and these two strange guardians were the only thing making any sense at all.