Odd. Sala, despite only entering a door, seemed to understand things better. What those things were, however, remained a mystery. She only knew that she felt like she understood things better. Strange how doors do that. As she walked, the world seemed to bend and twist and shift and mix. Sala, however, didn't care. She was much too young to establish any point of reference. If the world decided to be a chaotic mass of geometry, so be it.

As the hall began to normalize - out of patterns or adaptation, either worked - Sala entered a strange room. There were three pedestals. The first was an odd, flat surface covered in a strange fog. Sala had no clue what it was. That one was a big no-no. The second was an old tome. Despite never seeing it, Sala knew that something must have been hidden inside, like food. That one was the best choice. The third one was a head of some small beast for Sala to wear on her own head, no doubt created for her. In no way, shape, or form would Sala bend to the machiavellianism of corporate greed. Despite this, Sala deduced that the smartest possible outcome was to take all three. After all, they were all in the room with her. Nothing was stopping her from taking them all.

[right][color=slategray]"[b]ᴄʜᴏᴏsᴇ ᴏɴᴇ, ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴛʜ sʜᴀʟʟ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴᴡᴀʀᴅs. ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴛs ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ.[/b]"[/color][/right]

The voice reverberating in Sala's mind. So much for that idea. She knew that whatever this voice was, it would be better to not get on its bad side. After all, the voice seemed to be more powerful than her.

She made her choice. She grabbed the old tome which may or may not have contained food and pressed onwards.