Eventually, Rebecca stumbled upon a library.
It wasn't that she was looking for a library in particular. She just... happened to find one in her aimless wandering of the halls, which suited Rebecca just fine; she was an academic, after all, and had never been the type to turn her nose up at the chance to learn something new.
Tentatively, she nudged through the heavy rosewood doors, taking several slow, measured steps inside. Her footfalls echoed across the expansive, polished white marble floor as she walked across it, her green eyes flitting around, every sense on high alert.
It seemed like... well, a normal library, to all appearances. Or at least, as normal as a library could get whilst in the Crossroads, where the fantastical mixed rather explosively with the mundane on a regular basis.
Sometimes quite literally.
The shelves themselves were a wonder, towering high and sprawling up, up, and up towards the vaulted, cathedral-like ceiling, seemingly boundless in their immensity. A soft, mellow glow radiated outward from the countless candles and ornate lanterns scattered throughout the vast chamber, nestled atop sconces and tucked within darkened recesses built into the bookcases. They cast flickering shadows across the walls and the spines of books, lending a certain marvelously mysterious quality to the space.
A typical amount of dust one might associate with such old books wafted through the air, tickling at Rebecca's nose and nearly triggering a sneeze—the unmistakable scent of aged parchment paper and rich leather embracing her as she ventured across the room, luring her deeper and deeper into the extravagant labyrinth of shelves. Endless rows of bound books, newspapers, and other media... centuries of knowledge, it seemed, and all of it at her disposal.
Occasionally, Rebecca even glimpsed staff members in impeccably-pressed velvet uniforms gliding through the aisles—who she quite diligently avoided, keeping her head down as she scurried between the shelves.
After a while of combing through the first floor of the lavish library, pausing only occasionally to remove books from their perches and take a peek at their pages, Rebecca stumbled upon a set of rows containing sleek computer terminals.
Each screen glowed with a sterile blue hue, and as she approached, they seemed to be... flawlessly clean, untouched by any traces of grime or dust. Obviously very well taken care of.
With a quick glance over her shoulder, Rebecca settled into the swivel chair in front of one of the terminals with a light squeeeeak of its springs. She leaned over the terminal, pressing a key on the keyboard—a spectacular image of a distant, gaseous nebulae appearing as the background, but certainly not one that belonged to the Crossroads.
That was because it was the Orion Nebula from her own universe, the stars that made up Orion's sword and belt plainly visible.
Her hand finding the mouse, Rebecca narrowed her eyes at the computer screen before her, its bluish glare reflecting in the clear lenses of her glasses. Navigating the cursor across the desktop, she paused upon noticing a list of already saved webpages listed beside a few custom icons on the screen.
With a click, Rebecca selected one of the shortcuts that read 'Contestant Rosters.' Her eyes scanned the page as soon as it popped up, her lips pursing as she beheld files upon files with names listed beside them.
Among the many options, she spied one file with her own name on it. After a beat of hesitation, she decided to start with that one, feeling a bit daring.
A barrage of information instantly filled her view, including a photo of herself in disarray, slouched on a chair with messy, pixieish brown hair, a wrinkled lab coat, and her glasses knocked askew, bright greenish-brown eyes looking dazedly at the camera.
Rebecca's cheeks flushed a rosy pink in embarrassment, prompting her to swiftly exit the window. Then, after taking a moment to collect herself and generally bully herself into it, she opened it again to see just what kind of intel the Carnivale Rosa had collected in their little... dossier. Swiftly scrolling past that awful picture, of course.
It wasn't everything. Not by a long shot. However, the details that were available still held enough weight to make this revelation... a tad disturbing, to be honest. Enough so that after reading it, Rebecca's body grew cold and she instinctively placed her hand over her heart, her fingers curling in towards her palm tightly.
"That's... unsettling," she murmured softly, her green eyes turning distant, troubled. After taking a moment to regain her composure, though, she returned her gaze to the screen, scrolling, scrolling, scrolling...
As it turned out, the Carnivale Rosa had a lot of information on a lot of people. Rebecca practically couldn't tear her eyes away, drinking it all in; every scrap of precious information accessible to her that might, just maybe, help her in the trial ahead. There were dossiers of past contestants, current contestants... overviews of past festivities...
The medic's eyes slowly tracked across the screen as she read one dossier. Then another. And another, easily tumbling down the familiar rabbit hole of research. It was as irresistible as sneaking a bite of cookie dough straight from the mixing bowl; after you sampled a taste, it was near impossible to resist eating more and more until you felt positively sick to your stomach.
Once she had read all of the articles on the current 'aspiring hopefuls' for this season's extravaganza, not to mention a bit about how the previous contests had played out, Rebecca just sat there, rooted to the spot, paralyzed by a real knockout mixture of disgust and horror.
This could not be happening. She didn't expect to have a full team of capable, diplomatic professionals working alongside her, of course... even though that had meant nothing for the S.T.A.R.S., ultimately, in the end. But this just seemed a little too absurd!
They were all... science experiments, civilians, criminals, demons.
"Oh my god," whispered Rebecca, the words barely audible, even in the oppressive quiet of the library around her. She covered her mouth with a trembling hand, her green eyes wide. "We're all going to die."
Rebecca closed her eyes and sucked in a long, deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. This was an overwhelming situation, sure, but—but she just had to stay optimistic, here. She was trained as a medic and a fighter, and she had survived plenty of horrors in her home world. She would hold it together.
Opening her eyes, the woman forced herself to review the dossiers once more, leaning heavily on her propped-up hands as she did so, her brows furrowing in concentration. Each of them possessed unique strengths, of course. Despite the creation of the experiments being for nefarious purposes, they held the potential for good. And she knew well that being labeled a criminal, a monster, didn't always determine one's character.
(Except for when one let it, of course.)
And Rebecca had talents of her own. She was rational, a compassionate scientist, a quick thinker and steady shooter. And sometimes, just sometimes, that was enough.
All she had to do... was keep it together.
Just like she always had.
