As I appeared next to a middle-aged woman who was holding a flag, her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of me. I was an emaciated old hag with prominent ribs, bony shoulders draped in long white hair, and breasts sagging like empty leather pouches. My skeletal hands and fingers were adorned with long, misshapen nails, and my body stood precariously on two bony legs. Completing my appearance was a pair of bug wings and horns on my head.

Where am I? What is this?

She gasped at my sight, yet she felt the active magic of my rune. Her expression transformed into a warm grin as she welcomed me.

As I took a knife from her belt and started to cut my too long white hair she screamed, waving her flag:

“Harpies, Grandma, harpies above us!”

About four or five amazons stood alongside me near the flag. Many more wounded warriors lay scattered around, drawing a trail of blood behind us. The last standing group left of the amazons army.

An old hag to my left greeted me while shooting an arrow:

“Today, it's a good day to die!”

She had red and white hair, almost as if having colored it like this on purpose. Old hag? She looked at least a hundred years younger than me! She was half blind, one of her eyes completely white, and yet her arrow curved in the air, hitting a harpy in the eye.

“Ha! Take that!” - she mumbled, her hand searching for the next arrow in her quiver. There was only one arrow in that quiver, but as she took it, one remained.

Some of the harpies could conjure a dark magical attack - a bolt of black magic that could inflict severe burns on their targets. All of the Amazons bore deep scars from these attacks. Near to my eyes, the flag bearer's shoulders looked like a rare steak.

I touched her hand and healed her, then I rested against her shoulder for support, trying to steady myself.

With my other hand, I unleashed a barrage of thunder strikes from my fingers, not just one or two, but several at once. The powerful bolts of lightning shot forth, crackling and sizzling through the air, striking down any approaching enemy in their path, charred wings and body parts falling to the ground in a shower of sparks and ash.

“Live to fight another day!” – was Flo's answer to the red-and-white-haired arrow shooter, who nodded, laughing maniacally. Flo turned to one of the sword bearers that stood ready for the close fight – “Touch me and touch any wounded, you can make a chain, and they'll get healed.”

Another old amazon touched my shoulder.

“Warrina?” - she asked. There was hesitation but also admiration in her voice.

“Warrina!?” - several amazons exclaimed. A wonder, a hopeful exclamation.

Who the fuck was Warrina?

"Queen?" - Flo wondered, and the amazon nodded.

While I pondered on the exchange, Flo continued to unleash her thunder strikes with remarkable precision, targeting harpies wherever they were, above, behind, to the left, and to the right with equal ease as if she were chasing mosquitoes.

“Grandma, a big swarm is forming in front of us!” - the alarmed flag bearer said.

“Point it to me!” - Flo answered, as they were still too far for my mana sight, but now even with my weak eyes, I could see a black cloud forming. It was getting bigger fast.

With a sight, Flo unleashed a massive fireball that detonated in the midst of the enemy flock. The explosion was deafening, sending shockwaves rippling through the air and incinerating any remaining harpies in the immediate vicinity. The sheer force of the blast left the surrounding Amazons momentarily dazed, but they quickly regrouped and looked amazed at me.

That was like a flock of birds flying into a raging volcano! Flo is a real monster, not only as a healer but as an elemental mage too.

“Getting old has its advantages; my firepower is manifold magnified, and my strongest spells don't make a dent to my mana pool!” - a satisfied Flo whispered in my ear.

“Warrina, Warrina!”

The yells became stronger.

We were advancing slowly, and our group got bigger as we were collecting and healing the wounded amazons from the ground. As I saw the line of bodies, I realized they had to retire and had lost many fighters. Luckily many were still breathing and could be healed.

What is this show? What does this mean for me? Where am I? Why does she let them call her that name?

“Only another couple of hundred meters!” – said the flag bearer looking forward – “Up there is the fountain! Can you fly there, grandma? The flock is in disarray; now would be a good moment before they get reinforcement?”

As Flo spoke, a shudder passed through my spine. Was this really my Flo? "There's no point in going alone," she said firmly. "We'll go together, even if they bring reinforcements. We need to quench this glade's thirst for blood and restore the balance."

I was seeing everything, hearing everything, yet my mind felt detached. Where was I? What was I seeing? Was this just another part of the game? If it was the game, then my physical body was there in that lab, and I only saw visions. But why? What purpose could these visions serve?

At that moment, a colossal and ferocious harpy struck me with its sharp talons on my back, and I thought it was the end of me. But then, a barrage of thunder strokes and fiery blasts liberated me from the harpy's clutches. The flag bearer had almost died in the fight, but I managed to heal her at the last second. The fight continued, and we continued our advance, but my mind could not follow. My mind was fried, blocked by the question: where was I?

Flo drank water from the fountain up on the hill, and then I saw myself there, the centenarian Cala, a centenarian with grey hair and frail hands, struggling to lift the jar. As I watched, my hair gradually regained its black hue, my posture straightened, and my breasts lifted. It was a joy to see my feet regain their strength and form, my hands becoming supple yet powerful. My eyes returned to their unusual metallic grey and fluttered with long lashes.

I was even younger than before; I was now a nineteen or twenty years old Cala looking pleased into a mirror made of thin air.

I saw the amazons drinking from the fountain, and I talked to their now young queen. Then we successfully repelled another harpy attack, and yet I could treat everything only as a wiggle of my imagination. Everything felt surreal to me. A dream.

I watched all these fine young women and wondered if there was some symbolism here? Achievement of eternal youth? But what did that have to do with me? Where was the connection between this and the army and Bounty County? Why was I there?

The questions continued to swirl in my mind, leaving me with a sense of confusion and disorientation.

I could not enjoy their happiness or celebrate their victory with them. They were chanting Warrina all the time, and all wanted to touch me, if just for a moment. Flo had told me they thought I was the return of their mythical founder, the first amazon, the one and only, the first mother, but what would that mean? What does this all mean in view of the alien invasion?

Was this my prison? A golden prison where I will dream of being forever young in virtual reality? Was this the explanation?