This has to be a dream.

I found myself in a familiar room with bright sunlight streaming in.

I opened my eyes to the usual sound of chirping birds and furrowed my brow at the subtle feeling that something was off.

The clothes that fit perfectly just yesterday now hung loosely on my body.

With an uneasy feeling, I sat up. Then suddenly, a mirror came into my view—or more precisely, my reflection in the mirror—and I froze.

“What is this… huh?”

In my extreme confusion, I unconsciously muttered my thoughts out loud.

But the moment the words left my mouth, I gaped at my voice—several pitches higher than usual and with a strangely awkward pronunciation.

No way.

I stared blankly at my reflection in the mirror, then at my body hidden inside the oversized nightgown.

Plump cheeks and round eyes, skin as soft as a baby’s.

No matter how much I tried to stretch them, my legs remained short and my hands tiny.

I gazed at them, overcome with shock.

My fingers, which should have had visible veins, were just white and chubby.

The only familiar things were my pinkish blonde hair and purple eyes.

I examined these features several times calmly before swallowing hard.

Stay calm, Estria.

This is a dream.

I lay back down on my pillow. I must have woken up incorrectly. That’s why I hadn’t fully awakened from this dream. If I fell back asleep and woke up again, I could escape this dream.

With that thought, I closed my eyes.

After some time passed, I slowly opened my eyes again and took a deep breath as I still saw myself—or more precisely, my “child” self—staring back with wide eyes in the mirror.

This was no dream.

Overnight, I had turned into a child.