"Can you hear me, Alice?"

They'd fallen into pitch-blackness. At the end of a blindingly white tunnel, Alice and Lydia had found nothing. Or, they could see nothing. But as soon as she heard that wily tone yet again, Alice knew they weren't alone.

"What on earth just happened, Cat? I demand to know!"

As if a spotlight had fallen on him, Cheshire materialized in the darkness, glowing like a hologram right in front of them. He was still the only thing visible, though.

"You still haven't realized?" he drawled. He never stopped grinning, even if it was in an inappropriate situation.

Alice wanted to cry with frustration.

"All right! I've realized! I was bored, horribly bored! You were right! And, and-" she paused, checking that she could still feel Lydia in her grasp, "-I didn't… I didn't love him anymore."

Now that she'd admitted it to herself, something went off inside her, very much like the exploding of the jackbomb she'd obtained in the messed-up Wonderland. She collapsed, her daughter still in her arms, and began to weep madly. Even though her eyes were full of tears, some other bright light was becoming obvious, and breaking through the heavy blurriness.

When she looked up and blinked her eyes a few times to clear them, two long, oval-shaped, illuminated golden-framed boudoir mirrors hovered before her, their glass untouched and their frames carved with ornate swirls and rose flowers.

But although these new visions had fabricated, she seemed to completely ignore the mirrors and suddenly began to snipe at Cheshire.

"…But what is this about? Why did you have to kill my husband? How does that solve anything? What in the bloody hell am I supposed to do now?" she could feel her heartbeat quickening, her veins expanding to let through the blood that gushed around a disorientated mind.

"No need to curse, Alice… You may feel quite mad now, but let me explain."

Her bottom lip quivered, and she swallowed a dry swallow.

"…Fine."

Cheshire blinked his eyes, took a deep breath, and then began. In an odd way, these actions managed to calm Alice slightly.

"..You said you were horribly bored in the real world. Boredom can do strange things to people, and with many these effects go unnoticed – boredom eats away at a human until they are unable to do anything else except be bored. They know not of any other state of mind, as they are unmotivated to find it. And because boredom is all they feel, all they see, all they taste, touch and hear, it becomes a constant reality for them. There is a part of the mind, though, the heart of the mind, which is still keeping you alive, keeping you rooted in this nightmare despite it being so unbearably vapid – how does it do this? Through swelling up with fantasy, imagination, ambition. Without building castles in the sky, a human being cannot live in such a monotonous state for so long. They have to keep dreaming, or they may as well commit suicide…"

"-But if this happens to a lot of people, why haven't I heard reports of others suffering from delusions such as this? Delusions that are hard to distinguish from real life, delusions that have been there most of their lives and involve talking cats and rabbits and visiting a world full of nonsense?"

"Oh Alice, my dear, you're quite different to 'lots of people'… your imagination has always been quite a playground, hasn't it? I'm surprised how long you actually managed to cope with a normal life without losing your marbles earlier-"

"-Are you deliberately being impertinent now? And many people have wild imaginations, so why am I the only one who has to put up with this?"

"...I never said you were the only one. But whether you are alone or not, you're never going to outgrow this, Alice. Whenever something happens that rouses the part of the brain that likes to daydream, you're going to go back to Wonderland. It's inevitable."

There was a pause in their conversation, and that was Alice trying to piece together what the Cheshire Cat had just said. She shook her head violently, doing her best to shake the pieces away.

"No." Alice said firmly, "I haven't needed to go back there for over three years, and the last time I went, that was the last time. I'm twenty-five, and I saved the lives of everyone in Wonderland. That's the only reason they wanted me back. Wonderland doesn't need me anymore."

Cheshire's grin suddenly grew slightly wider (if that was possible), and he pointed to the mirrors on either side of him. Alice couldn't see how this was relevant to what she'd just said. A spark then flew out of each silver claw and a picture was painted on the face of each mirror: One looked like a picture of paradise which Alice recognized immediately – grassy hills tinged golden by a bright sun, reflected in a long stream which weaved between giant trees and flowers that almost seemed to smile and bounce with the wind. The other image wasn't one which she was so familiar with – it was a decrepit, elderly lady, bent over in a darkly stained apron, scrubbing a stone path until a stream formed and spread messily through the soil of wilted flowers and dead trees until it made a muddy river.

Cheshire Cat continued to grin.

"…Or do you need Wonderland?"