[Home is not always real 🫂]
RULES:
1. ⬜reei⬜ to the ⬜⬜ce, agreeing to pri⬜cy acce⬜
2. ⬜me is ⬜⬜broken
3. ⬜lan⬜ is withdrawn by your si⬜n⬜
4. You li⬜ ⬜re, that's ⬜mal
5. Stay ⬜
6. IG follows your deepest desires
Speci⬜ ⬜mo (First ⬜unching ⬜di⬜on)🎉
1 ⬜ou⬜ → ⬜⬜1 credit
⬜ H⬜u⬜⬜ → 33⬜ credit
⬜ ⬜⬜⬜⬜s → 5⬜5 credit
1⬜ H⬜⬜⬜s → ⬜9⬜ credit
🙌⬜ST FOR ⬜ MONTH!!!🙌
"Aligned knowledge is Salvation"
—Dr. ⬜ta⬜
---
"Aligned knowledge is… Salvation?" Caia murmured, repeating the phrase as though it had been lying at the tip of her tongue all along.
The steam monster roared along the train tracks. The screech of metal wheels against iron rails was deafening, especially since Caia had been placed in the regular class. The benches were crude wood; passengers relieved themselves by the windows. As far as she could see, the desert stretched ahead, while beneath the tracks, piles of filth festered. Sometimes, she wondered: how could these people act so normal while engaging in "practices" that defied her principles of modernization?
She frowned. If she were rich, she would obviously have taken the most luxurious class, no question.
But she couldn't. She had been abruptly dragged into this strange world—a world with a bizarre system, as bizarre as the cliché ancient novels she secretly hid among her artistic and modern reading collection. Let's summarize her journey, as simply as a child's story:lementary school story:
1. Caia was reading.
2. Caia suddenly ended up in another world.
3. Caia thought she was dead.
4. Caia became poor.
5. Caia struggled to rise.
6. Caia was called a freak by the locals.
7. Caia adapted.
8. Caia became a paid storyteller.
9. Caia succeeded.
In conclusion, Caia was not dead.
How many years had she been alone in this place? If only there were someone "normal." No, Caia didn't mean to be racist toward the locals. It's just…
Her emerald-green eyes scanned the train carriage. Hot, sticky lumps clung precisely to the train's body, casting their own light. The long wooden benches were simple, typical of a coal-train carriage.
So many passengers, it could even be said the regular passengers were over capacity. Of course, the transport owner would never refuse the profit. Yet, among so many passengers, Caia noticed a child and a mother breastfeeding on the same bench as her, and a lecherous man sitting across from the mother. Then a woman disguised as a man stared at a tall man in a top hat sitting across on the right side of the carriage.
And also, a man wearing white gloves, covering his face with an upside-down newspaper? Suspicious.
Tired, Caia's eyelids drooped ...
Everyone's heads were 2 dimensions shapes—flat.
The mother's head was a perfect circle, matching her child's. The lecherous man's head was a triangle. The man with the top hat's head was square, nodding in time with his tie.
Damn… thought Caia. She was still not used to this. Stress. What kind of stressful world was this?! It made her recall some of the bizarre scenarios life had thrown at her. Like one scene she would never forget: when young, naive Caia walked along a street, rumored to be the night district. She had once seen circles and triangles… engaging in sexual acts by the roadside.
Wtf? Caia had stared at it like she was watching a newly censored obscene film. Since then, she never dared step into that wicked street again—though she needed a shortcut!
"Geometry World," she muttered under her breath. Better keep her thoughts quiet—any slip and someone would call her a freak again.
At least, that's what she called this strange world: the Geometry World.
Even after years here, she had never seen a human with a normal head. Thankful for one thing: animals were normal. She smiled faintly at the "mooo" of a village cow from her first settlement. Still, the thought of this world collapsing once made her nearly choke. Villagers had labeled her a "beautiful girl whose mind was not beautiful."
One day, she whispered to a pentagon-headed barista, "Has your face always been shaped like a soccer ball?" She ended up being thrown out of the café.
After repeated insults, she sought out a psychologist—fortunately, one existed! The hexagon-headed psychologist studied her from head to toe and asked why she had come here. When she finished her story, the psychologist fell silent, strangely. Caia hurriedly left with annoying excuses; she didn't want to be labeled crazy.
Enough. That freaky experience was not something she wanted to remember deeply. Maybe? If she became a writer back in her original world, she would write those experiences again, like waking from a very long dark dream.
BOOM
The train carriage suddenly jolted violently off the tracks. The wooden benches shook uncomfortably. Hot lumps were thrown to the floor, and glass shards shattered like knives across the floor.
What was that? Caia jumped up from her daydream, alert, noticing the lecherous man had landed his face on the mother's chest—an opportunity. Disgusting.
She could see the fear and revulsion on the mother's face.
Slap
Not Caia. A man with a newspaper covering his head accidentally stepped hard on the lecherous man's foot—making him jump off the mother's chest. The triangular-faced man grumbled.
His clumsiness deserved a grudging nod.
Caia quickly pulled the mother and the circle-headed child closer to her, letting the newspaper man pass down the aisle with a sly smirk.
Wait, a smirk?
A green glint in her eyes rounded. Her legs straightened as she gripped the fragile wooden seat.
A smirk…
Turning back, she noticed black hair, slightly damp with sweat, peeking from behind the newspaper.
The man had a face!