"A-ha-ha-ha-ha! You truly are a delight, Lady Isolde."
"Oh, how have I gone this long without speaking to you, Lady Penelope?"
They laughed like noblewon in a drama written by soone who’d only ever imagined what nobility sounded like—airy, exaggerated, and expensive, as if their very chuckles were taxed by the syllable.
Verena watched them from the corner of the room with dead eyes.
Was this... progress?
Was this what all her ddling had amounted to?
A cursed alliance forged in giggles, opulence, and the looming threat of death flags?
As for their question, she almost answered that maybe the two of them hadn’t t in the original tiline because they’d both reached their doom routes too early.
And now, thanks to her brilliant, desperation-fueled effort to not die like so tragic villainess cliché, these two were getting along like schoolgirls at a tea party. All because Verena decided to bend the plotline in a direction no dignified author would dare.
Seduce the heroines? Make friends? Avoid dying in a story that was clearly out to get her?
Honestly, it was starting to feel like one of those chaotic harem codies—The 100 Girlfriends Who Really Really Love You, except replace the girlfriends with emotionally unstable heroines and dood villainesses who needed therapy more than love.
And now here they were.
etings. Scheduled ones. With training sessions to boot.
All to prepare for the upcoming trial, which, thank the stars, was a group project rather than an individual one.
If it were solo, Verena might’ve just curled up and accepted her demise.
But the location of their brilliant strategy etings was... her room. The one assigned for her house arrest.
Honestly, with the warded walls, the sterile furniture, and the fact that she was only allowed out under escort, it felt less like noble detainnt and more like she’d been sectioned.
A luxury psych ward, where all the patients were equally unhinged and socially dysfunctional.
"So..." Isolde turned to Verena, who sat perched on the edge of her bed, eyes glazed as if her soul had temporarily vacated.
"Verena... could it be that you’re regressing through tilines?"
Verena choked on air. Loudly. Violently. Undeniably. The way her face paled could’ve won an acting award.
"What?" she gasped.
"Oh, just a thought," Isolde said sweetly, resting her chin on her hand. "You look like soone who’s lived this all before. The way you interfere. The way you watch. You’re like a bored goddess stuck in a bad play."
Verena blinked. Once. Twice. She was about to lie.
But her brain had montarily evacuated the premises.
Certainly! Here’s a system pop-up with a playful yet ominous tone that fits the tone of your story:
[SYSTEM ALERT – BRANCHING EVENT: "Interrogation Detected"]
[Warning! Lady Isolde has activated a high-level Curiosity Trigger.]
[Your suspicious behavior has raised a Tiline Regression Flag.]
[If you do not respond or successfully divert this line of questioning, the [Dood Villainess Route] will resu.]
[Death Flag Probability: 74%]
[Penalty for Silence:
Trust with Isolde -20
Suspicion ter 40]
[Hidden Affection Route with Sera: Wavering...]
[Recomndation: Divert with charm, mislead with grace, or co clean.]
[The choice is yours, Player.]
[Ti Remaining: 3 Minutes]
Was it too late to just... fall down and pretend to faint? Maybe if she scread "plot twist" loud enough, the system would reset the world.
"Uhhhh?... What are you talking about?..."
"Hm? I’m just..." she leaned forward. "Intrigued."
"That much I have to agree with Isolde," Penelope nodded. "It’s suspicious."
She’s dead if she admits about what she can actually do because they might suspect her that the reason why they’re suffering is because of her that keeps on regressing and how in this current tiline, they’re suffering because of her.
Verena choked so hard she nearly swallowed her own dignity.
"Ack—wha—!? Regress?! ? Pfft. What even is regression? Sounds like an outdated hair treatnt," she coughed, flailing dramatically as if the re concept of tilines offended her lungs.
[SYSTEM NOTICE: La Deflection Attempt Detected. Penalty Imminent.]
Isolde tilted her head with an eerie smile, legs elegantly crossed as she leaned forward with all the poise of a cat who just saw the mouse twitch. "Hmm... That’s odd. You knew exactly how the monster would behave in the last trial. And you knew what I was going to say before I even said it."
"I just have... really, really good intuition?" Verena grinned. "Also, maybe I read your diary."
"You what?"
"NOTHING."
Isolde stood, slowly circling her like a hunter. "You even knew how Lady Clarimonde would trip on her dress and flash everyone at the banquet. Are you telling that’s normal intuition too?"
"It was a very long dress! Anyone could’ve predicted it! Gravity is a cruel mistress!"
Isolde leaned down until their faces were dangerously close. "You’re hiding sothing."
"I hide a lot of things. Like snacks under my bed. And emotional trauma."
Then, suddenly—SYSTEM FLASH—Verena heard the soft ding of doom approaching.
[SYSTEM WARNING: Death Flag at 85%]
You have 10 seconds to salvage this situation.
Options:
Flirt
Distract
Confess (Are you sure?)
Pretend to faint
In a move of pure desperation, Verena lunged toward her bed dramatically, landing in a sprawled pose, shirt collar slightly askew from the motion.
"Oh no... I’m feeling faint...!" she gasped, draping an arm over her face like a tragic heroine in a cheap romance drama.
Isolde blinked. "Are you seducing or dying?"
"Why not both?" Verena whispered through her fingers.
A pause.
Then Isolde, ever unshaken, climbed onto the bed next to her, sitting cross-legged with a gleam in her eye.
"So you are a ti regressor."
"Wh—I—THAT WASN’T AN ADMISSION!"
Isolde leaned closer again. "Well then, Miss Future Girl... Let’s have a little fun with this, shall we?"
Verena scread internally.
[SYSTEM UPDATE: Death Flag Delayed. Trust Level with Isolde 10. Suspicion Level... MAXED OUT.]
And so, instead of escaping the interrogation... Verena had sohow just unlocked the Interrogation Date Route.
Hell was real, and it wore perfu.
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