Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

The water roared around her, consuming her completely. Her body spiraled uncontrollably in the vortex, and with each twist and pull, her chest tightened, her lungs burned, and her mind spiraled into a chaos even more violent than the currents dragging her down.

'This is it, isn't it?'

The thought cut through the cacophony of her surroundings, sharp and venomous. Her limbs felt heavy, her strength ebbing with each passing second as her body surrendered to the crushing pressure. But the pain—the searing, unrelenting pain—remained, a constant reminder of everything she despised.

'Why? Why was I even born like this? Broken, sick, useless.'

Aeliana's vision blurred further, the salt of the water stinging her eyes. Her thoughts churned like the whirlpool itself, a storm of resentment and self-loathing tearing through her mind.

'If I had been strong, they wouldn't have looked at me like that. If I hadn't been cursed with this illness, I wouldn't need to hide behind veils like some pathetic shadow.'

The memory of those pitying, disgusted glances surfaced unbidden. The maids who whispered behind her back. The knights who averted their eyes. The nobles who didn't bother to conceal their disdain.

'They all think I'm disgusting. I am disgusting, aren't I? They're right. Just some wretched, broken thing hidden behind layers of fabric and walls.'

Her body twisted violently as the currents pulled her deeper. She gasped instinctively, only for water to flood her lungs, sending her into another fit of desperate, thrashing motions. But even as her body fought to survive, her mind was drowning in a different way.

'Madeleina.'

Her name surfaced, bringing with it a tidal wave of betrayal and bitterness.

'She was supposed to be different. She pretended to care. All those times she stood by me, reassured me, promised me that I wasn't alone. And what was it worth? Lies. Just lies. She was no better than the rest of them. No better than the maids who looked at me like I was a monster. No better than the nobles who laughed behind my father's back because of me.'

The fury grew hotter, the hatred searing through her thoughts like wildfire.

'And Father. He wasn't protecting me. He never cared about me. He cared about the house, the family, the legacy. That's all I was to him—a pawn, a burden, a reminder of his own failures. He doesn't even see me. He only sees what he wants me to be.'

Her vision darkened further, the pain in her chest now joined by a deep ache in her heart.

'And Mother.'

The thought of her mother struck like a dagger, sharp and cruel.

'You left me. You just left. You were supposed to stay, weren't you? You were supposed to protect me, love me, show me how to live through this. But you didn't. You died. You left me to figure it out alone, left me to this endless void of pain and despair.'

A fresh wave of anger surged through her, mixing with her anguish until she couldn't distinguish one from the other.

'I hate you. I hate you all. I hate myself.'

Her body convulsed as another rush of water pressed down on her, the current spinning her around like a puppet on strings. Her limbs flailed weakly, her energy fading as her mind spiraled further into the abyss.

'I hate this illness. I hate this body. I hate the way it traps me, tortures me, makes me something people can't even look at without recoiling. I hate that no matter how much I try, I can't escape it. I can't be free of it. Of them. Of myself.'

The water pressed harder, the whirlpool narrowing as she sank deeper into its crushing depths. Her mind screamed, her thoughts a whirlwind of venom and despair.

'Why didn't I just die sooner? Why did I fight so hard to stay alive when this is all I've ever been? A wretch. A burden. A shadow. It doesn't even matter anymore.'

Her chest convulsed, a desperate attempt to take in air, but there was nothing. Her body was no longer her own, surrendering to the overwhelming force of the water.

Her thoughts faltered, her mind quieting for the first time. Only a single, raw whisper remained.

'I hate everything.'

Her eyes closed, the darkness consuming her completely as her body went limp. The whirlpool continued to churn, dragging her further into its depths, but Aeliana's mind was silent now. There was nothing left to feel. Nothing left to fight.

And for the first time, she embraced the stillness.

******

Aeliana's consciousness flickered, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as she slowly awakened. The sensation of dry, solid ground beneath her was the first thing she registered. It was warm, rough, and unmoving—a stark contrast to the chaotic pull of the whirlpool that had swallowed her whole.

She coughed weakly, her body trembling from the exertion. Each gasp of air felt strange. It was cool, fresh, and oddly soothing, devoid of the salty tang of the sea. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, as the dull gray sky above came into view. Shafts of light filtered down through a cavernous space, though the ceiling remained obscured by a mist that clung stubbornly to the upper reaches.

'What…?'

Her fingers curled against the ground beneath her. It felt solid, yet patches of something soft and damp—almost spongy—brushed against her palms. She forced herself upright, her arms trembling as pain lanced through her body. The corrupted mana that had burned like fire through her veins was still there, simmering faintly, but it felt… dampened.

The world around her came into focus.

Figures dotted the strange expanse. At first, they were indistinct blurs, but as her vision sharpened, Aeliana realized she wasn't alone. Mercenaries, adventurers, and soldiers were scattered across the area, their expressions a mixture of confusion and wariness.

Some lay unconscious, their bodies still as if lifeless. Others stirred weakly, groaning as they attempted to rise. A few were on their feet, their movements cautious as they scanned their surroundings or checked on the injured.

The murmurs of conversation reached her ears, low and tense.

"Where… are we?" one mercenary muttered, his armor dented and scratched from the battle above.

"This isn't the sea," another soldier said, his voice hushed. His grip tightened around his sword as he eyed the space warily.

Aeliana's gaze swept over the basin. The ground was jagged, uneven, with rocks jutting out at odd angles. Patches of vibrant moss grew along the surface, glowing faintly in hues of green and blue, casting an otherworldly light over the scene.

The air felt calm and breathable, yet it carried a strange weight, as though the space itself wasn't entirely stable. Small motes of light hovered in the air, pulsating softly like tiny fireflies. They shimmered briefly before fading, only to reappear elsewhere, creating a subtle ripple effect.

The stillness was unnerving.

Aeliana squinted at the air, noticing faint ripples—like heatwaves distorting the landscape. The very fabric of space seemed to shimmer and bend, as if the ground and sky were reflections in a warped mirror.

She raised a trembling hand, reaching toward one of the hovering motes of light. It flitted away, vanishing before her fingertips could graze it.

'This place….what is even this place?'

The thought lingered, unwelcome and unsettling.

Her body felt heavy, her limbs aching as though she'd been battered repeatedly—no doubt from the whirlpool's relentless currents. She clutched her chest, where the familiar burning of corrupted mana still lingered, though muted now.

'Why am I alive? I should be dead. I should've drowned. This… this doesn't make sense.'

Her breaths quickened as fragmented memories surged: the whirlpool's crushing depths, Madeleina's cold words, the suffocating weight of betrayal. Her hands clenched against the ground as her thoughts spiraled.

'Why am I here? What is this place? And… Madeleina…'

Her chest tightened as her attendant's face flashed in her mind, the mask of indifference etched into her memory.

Aeliana forced herself to sit up fully, her veil torn and askew but still clinging to her face. She adjusted it with trembling hands, ensuring her skin remained hidden.

She turned her attention to the scattered figures nearby. Mercenaries were tending to one another, using strips of cloth as makeshift bandages to staunch bleeding or bind sprains.

A group of soldiers huddled together, weapons drawn, their stances defensive as they warily eyed the surrounding terrain.

Despite their shared predicament, the atmosphere was thick with unease. The whispers she overheard carried tension.

"We're all going to die down here," one adventurer muttered, his voice trembling.

"Shut up," another snapped. "We need to figure out what this place is first."

Aeliana observed them silently, her thoughts still a maelstrom. She didn't trust them—any of them. But then again, trust had always been a luxury she couldn't afford.

'This place....'

She thought, her gaze shifting back to the strange ripples in the air.

'It is my last place, is it not?'

After all, she could feel it.

Her illness….

It was churning too much.