A sharp flash.
Suddenly, Meiling was no longer standing. She was seeing.
A blurred image flickered before her — as though she was looking through someone else's eyes.
There was another woman in the vision — one with long crimson hair that glowed faintly under the glowing lights of a high ceiling. Her expression was distant, unreadable.
Meiling could feel the tension in the air, the weight of something terrible about to happen.
The red-haired woman knelt before Meiling, her eyes gleaming with a kind of happiness—as if she had found a perfect prey to feast upon.
She carried many strange tools that Meiling couldn't even begin to understand. It wasn't until the woman used them to slightly peel away what seemed to be Meiling's own face that she realized this wasn't truly her who was witnessing these scenes.
Then the scene distorted — shapes melting, colors flickering like broken glass.
Meiling tried to turn away, but she couldn't.
