There was a flash, and Max was thrown out of the familiar portal.

  For some reason, it expelled him with such force that he hit the floor hard and nearly rolled, slamming his right shoulder.

  He looked around at once.

  No monsters.

  He could breathe.

  There were soldiers, though. Several of them were already raising their rifles while speaking urgently into their headsets.

  That was… less reassuring.

  “Hands up!” one shouted.

  “Get on the floor!” another barked.

  Max froze.

  Which one? Hands up or down?

  Then he glanced at himself and realized he was still wearing the suit.

  The same suit from the “dream.”

  Wait.

  The last hour replayed in his mind.

  So none of that had been a dream? He only had to want to return here?

  In that moment, Max felt like a complete idiot. Though, to be fair, fear and stress were reasonable excuses. How was anyone supposed to accept this as real when everything around them felt like fantasy nonsense?

  Strangely, when he tried to jump again – nothing happened.

  “Where were you?!” the Colonel’s voice thundered as he rushed into the room. “We thought there was a malfunction and you disappeared!” He stared at Max in confusion, then bent down and picked up a hat from the floor. “And where did this suit come from? And the hat? What the hell…”

  Max barely listened. He was scanning the room for Ruslan and Kristina.

  They weren’t there.

  At least the suit seemed to be his now.

  Maybe he had clothing magic.

  “Colonel, please do not approach him!” A group of people in white lab coats hurried in. One of the scientists – a thin man with a hooked nose and an instantly unpleasant expression – stepped forward. “This is a deviation from baseline. We need to examine him.”

  The scientists surrounded Max and began inspecting him. Julia – whom no one but Max could see – was already looking around with interest. She slipped silently through the wall into the corridor and went off to explore the base. Her gaze passed over the pale lighting, rows of metal doors, sealed rooms with occasional noise leaking from within.

  Max, meanwhile, endured being moved from room to room while tablets beeped and data was recorded. Eventually, they brought him into a spacious laboratory. In the center stood a massive device with a screen and a mess of wires.

  “Lie down,” the hooked-nose scientist ordered. “We’ll measure your magical energy levels.”

  Max gave the machine a doubtful look but complied. The cold metal beneath his back made him shiver. He lay still for several minutes while the equipment hummed and scanned.

  “Strange…” one assistant muttered. “Zero reading. No magic detected.”

  “That’s impossible,” the scientist frowned. “He entered the portal like the others, but the readings are empty.”

  Max shrugged.

  The Colonel only smiled faintly and turned to another soldier.

  “Xander, take the kid to the residential quarters.”

  Kid?

  Max watched as the soldier who had been standing by the door approached.

  Up close, the man was enormous.

  From a distance he had looked large. Up close, he looked unreal. Max genuinely wondered how he fit through doorways. His face suggested a blend of Neanderthal and gorilla – small, bead-like eyes beneath a heavy brow. The kind of man who looked built on steroids, perhaps with a touch of local magic added for effect.

  Walking to the living quarters under this giant’s supervision did not inspire confidence.

  Then the giant spoke.

  Max was honestly surprised he could form full sentences.

  “Well then, Prokhorov,” the soldier said casually, “don’t you feel anything unusual? Any… magical sensations?”

  “Magical?” Max blinked. “Does everyone here immediately get some kind of powers?”

  “Not everyone. Only members of the first expedition. And sometimes their children. Didn’t anyone tell you?”

  Max stopped walking.

  Children.

  So he might have inherited something?

  From his parents?

  He needed answers.

  Immediately.

  “Then why did you assume I should have those abilities? My parents were here, right?”

  “That’s not for you to know yet. That’s enough. Walk,” the soldier snapped.

  It was obvious he had realized he’d said too much. The tone of that last word reminded Max of the boarding school supervisors.

  Great.

  Max fell silent and turned his focus inward, trying to sense something – magic, power, anything at all.

  Nothing.

  Maybe moving through the world of the dead had been his ability. That seemed possible. He had no intention of mentioning it to anyone, and he definitely did not feel like experimenting now.

  Julia walked beside him, watching him with mild skepticism.

  The soldier’s usefulness as a guide ended there.

  The corridors of this new complex reminded Max of visits to a police station. After everything he had seen, he had expected something grand and fantastical. Instead, he found himself in a familiar underground bunker – just a scientific one.

  Plaques and framed certificates hung beside the doors, along with bland paintings clearly meant to break up the monotony of the blue walls. In several places, potted plants resembling small palms stood on tall pedestals. Uniformed personnel moved constantly through the halls.

  Through open doors, Max glimpsed laboratories packed with incomprehensible equipment and rows of computers. Men and women in white and blue coats worked inside.

  They stopped at another guarded door. Under the stern gaze of the posted soldier, Xander pressed his ID card to the panel. The door slid open.

  Another elevator.

  Honestly, Max half-hoped the giant wouldn’t fit.

  The ride was cramped and short. Max wrinkled his nose at the strong smell of cigarettes clinging to Xander’s uniform.

  When they stepped out, the atmosphere had changed. Softer lighting. Carpet runners. Even decent paintings on the walls. A distant, rhythmic noise echoed faintly – like construction drills. Only after a moment did Max realize it was gunfire.

  They walked through long corridors until Xander stopped at a small room and opened the door.

  Ruslan was inside.

  “Oh, brother!” Ruslan exclaimed, jumping up from the bed. “I thought I’d never see you again!”

  Max dropped onto the other bed with a tired exhale.

  “Yeah. I thought the same.”

  The room was surprisingly spacious. Two large beds. A wall mural of the sea. Max immediately noticed two palm trees painted directly above one of the beds.

  That one’s mine.

  There was even a separate bathroom and shower.

  Perfect.

  After everything that had happened, he felt dirty – even though he technically wasn’t. The suit was impressive. What kind of fabric didn’t wrinkle at all?

  The distant gunfire stopped, though the lighting still held a faint yellow tint. The silence eased something inside him.

  “Guess what? They locked us in,” Ruslan announced the moment the soldier left. “You know I hate closed spaces. Do you think they locked Kristina in too? I bet they didn’t. That giant definitely didn’t like me.”

  Ruslan tugged repeatedly at the door handle. It was solid and well built. He wasn’t breaking it.

  Being locked in was bad.

  Ruslan had a mild case of claustrophobia. It usually faded once he was distracted by food or sleep.

  But after the boarding school, they all hated confinement.

  And this came right after the Colonel had promised something advanced, well-funded, full of top specialists.

  The situation was starting to irritate Max.

  “There aren’t even any windows!” Ruslan complained, already inspecting every wall. If there was a vent, a maintenance hatch, any weakness at all, Ruslan would find it – just like he could find hidden food anywhere.

  Max stretched out on his bed.

  For the first time all day, he had a reason to breathe.

  Traveling through the world of the dead had drained him more than he realized. Moving between worlds apparently cost something.

  He didn’t notice when he fell asleep.

  A strange dream.

  Max dreamed he was a girl.

  The moment he became aware of it, he understood he was not in his own body – not even in his own soul.

  He could think, but at the same time he felt the thoughts of a ghost whose bodiless form he now occupied.

  He was inside Julia.

  He had completely forgotten about her.

  Now he saw through her spectral eyes.

  Julia wandered the corridors.

  She was still learning how to be a ghost. It was surprisingly difficult to get used to walking through walls. Each time, she hesitated for a second, imagining herself smashing her head into the surface, ghostly blood pooling on the floor, no phantom doctor coming to help.

  It was hard to accept that you could simply pass through solid matter.

  It took Julia some time to understand that her body was so light it obeyed her thoughts. If she wanted, she could slip through the floor. She could even fly.

  The first time she tried, she shot upward too fast. The sky swallowed her. She lost her sense of direction, her thoughts scattered, and for a moment she felt her mind beginning to dissolve. It was as if she were about to turn into a mindless wraith.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Then something pulled her back.

  Her awareness snapped into focus, and she found herself near the ground again. After that, she decided not to drift too far from the one who had pulled her out of the other side.

  Why had she suddenly thought of Max?

  She felt something from him – a faint current of energy that kept her whole. For some reason, she was certain it was his power anchoring her spirit to the world of the living.

  So she wandered through the base, slipping through walls and peering into every room.

  There was plenty to see.

  In one lab, scientists argued about magical elements. In another, a cook stirred some strange “enchanted” sludge into a pot. She drifted down a level and watched soldiers changing clothes. Strangely, she felt an instinctive discomfort at the sight of naked bodies – even though she no longer had a physical form. The emotions felt real. Her emotions.

  Weird.

  Still, curiosity won.

  She lingered in the locker room longer than she needed to.

  Passing through another wall, she heard foreign speech. She recognized a few English words from school but could not follow the conversation.

  Americans?

  As she explored further, she realized there were many of them. An entire section of the base – perhaps half – seemed to belong to them. The facility felt divided. The doors between the two sides were sealed and heavily guarded from both directions.

  What was going on here?

  She drifted lower, into the deeper laboratories.

  That was where things turned disturbing.

  She slipped through a wall – and straight into a massive glass tank.

  Inside it, a plant was slowly consuming a live sheep.

  Julia nearly fainted from shock. Could a ghost faint without a brain? She had no idea.

  The sheep bleated desperately as the flower opened like a monstrous mouth. Thick, vine-like tendrils wrapped around its legs, holding it in place. When its insides spilled out while it was still alive, Julia felt a surge of nausea – even though she had not eaten since the moment she had been dragged into this world.

  The flower was horrifying. Powerful. Alive.

  Panicking, she rushed through the glass and back into the corridor. What if these magical creatures could see ghosts?

  Behind the tank, scientists calmly observed and recorded data on tablets. Julia now understood their language. From their discussion, she gathered that the plant was supposed to release large amounts of magical energy while feeding – but it did not when it consumed Earth animals.

  Strange.

  She fled the room while the sheep was still screaming. She had no idea how it remained alive for so long.

  Magic.

  In the next lab, she saw a real orc.

  He was chained to a massive metal frame, unconscious. The sight reminded her of a movie she once watched with her ex – something about a giant green monster.

  But this was no movie.

  They were extracting magical energy from him.

  The orc’s body was covered in scars, some fresh, some old. He looked like he had endured brutal torture. Julia felt a stab of pity as she studied his powerful, vein-covered arms.

  Arms? Or paws?

  The scientists were obsessed with magic. They harvested it from everything – animals, monsters, people. And it was happening on both sides of the base. She had to admit, though, the American equipment looked more advanced, more modern.

  But on the local side, there were more test subjects.

  She confirmed it in other rooms. They were draining magical energy from both creatures and humans. The procedure clearly caused intense pain. Most subjects lost consciousness.

  In one lab, a dark-haired girl sat with wires attached to her, crying quietly. A soldier with a rifle stood beside her.

  Julia felt helpless.

  That girl had no choice. None at all.

  Max had to know. He had to do something. What was happening in those laboratories was not human.

  “Some kind of torture lab!”

  Julia burst through the wall, shouting.

  Max jerked awake so violently he slid off the bed and hit the floor.

  Close enough to intentional.

  He scrambled up, his mind racing as he sorted through everything he had just seen through her eyes.

  They had to help that girl.

  But how?

  “Max! You won’t believe what I saw!”

  “I saw everything too,” Max said calmly, already thinking through their next move. The situation was bad, but he was used to finding a way out – and pulling his brother and sister out with him.

  “What?” Ruslan stuck his head out of the bathroom, assuming Max was talking to him. “There’s no ventilation in there either. Where’s the air even coming from?”

  “They’re experimenting on people!” Julia waved her arms, ignoring the fact that Ruslan had just walked straight through her. He couldn’t see her at all. “They strap them into these horrible chairs, and the scientists go poke, poke with wires! And tubes – poke! Poke! God, I bailed. No way.”

  With a dramatic sigh, Julia flopped onto the other bed. Strangely, she was breathing. Why did a ghost need to breathe?

  Ruslan, meanwhile, had returned to the door and started pulling on the handle again. Then he began knocking.

  “Hey! Let me out! I don’t do well in closed spa – spaces. Anyway, I need room! Open up!”

  A minute later, the same enormous soldier – Xander – opened the door. Max and Julia watched closely.

  One indifferent look from the giant, and Ruslan visibly deflated.

  “You’ll be escorted to the cafeteria later,” Xander said flatly. “Shut your mouth. Sit down. Quiet. Understood?”

  The tone alone made it clear that arguing was pointless.

  After a long second of silence, the man smirked and slammed the door shut hard enough to ruffle Ruslan’s hair. The lock clicked.

  Ruslan stood there for a moment with his hand still raised, debating whether to grab the handle again. Then he turned and trudged back to the bed.

  “Hey!” Julia yelped as he collapsed directly on top of her.

  Of course, he heard nothing.

  “You uncultured idiot!” She tried to smack the back of his head, but her hand passed straight through.

  Ruslan scratched his head thoughtfully.

  Strange.

  “You could at least tell him!” Julia muttered, glaring at Max.

  Max shrugged. What was he supposed to say – that he could see ghosts?

  Well… they were in a world with magic now.

  Worth a try.

  “Ruslan,” Max said evenly, “I can see ghosts.”

  “Awesome,” Ruslan mumbled without turning around. “Wake me when they bring lunch.”

  Within seconds, he was snoring.

  Julia huffed and walked straight through the wall again.

  Max lay back and stared at the ceiling.

  So. Another world. That much was obvious now. Denying it would be pointless.

  How magic worked – unclear. He felt no magical energy at all. He glanced at the wall Julia had just passed through.

  That part was different.

  Seeing the dead wasn’t random. It had to be connected to those strange jumps through the afterlife. Not everyone who stepped through the portal likely experienced that.

  It explained something.

  It raised even more questions.

  Did Ruslan feel anything unusual?

  From the other bed came steady snoring.

  If Ruslan had magic, it would probably be the ability to find food anywhere and sleep through an apocalypse.

  Max spent a few more minutes trying to sense even the slightest trace of magical energy. Nothing. No fire summoned by thought. No objects moving. Nothing.

  Fine.

  Then he needed a plan.

  Step one: avoid becoming a test subject.

  Step two: get that dark-haired girl out of whatever cell they were keeping her in.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  This time, two soldiers stood outside.

  “Cafeteria,” one said curtly.

  Ruslan perked up immediately and winked at Max.

  “Finally. I was starting to think they feed us air here.”

  They stepped into the corridor under guard. On the way, they stopped at another room. The door opened, and Kristina stepped out.

  She looked relieved.

  “Max!” she exclaimed and rushed to hug him. “I thought I wouldn’t see you for a while.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” he replied with a small smile.

  Ruslan eyed the pale girl standing beside Kristina.

  “And who’s this?”

  “This is Rita,” Kristina said quickly. “We’re… roommates now.”

  Rita gave a faint smile, but her eyes were heavy, observant.

  “You’re new?” she asked softly. “Don’t worry. Everyone gets used to it. Sooner or later, everyone goes through… their turn.”

  “Turn for what?” Ruslan asked cautiously.

  Rita shrugged slightly.

  “Magical energy doesn’t appear out of nowhere. We all… contribute.”

  Kristina shivered, though it was clear she didn’t fully grasp what Rita meant. Max felt a thin line of cold run down his spine, but he chose not to press the issue yet. First, he needed to understand what “contribute” actually meant.

  They had barely walked a few dozen meters when a man in a white lab coat approached, tablet in hand. He scanned a list quickly and looked up at Max.

  “Prokhorov Maxim?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Max nodded.

  “You need to come with me. Additional magical ability assessment.”

  Ruslan stopped walking.

  “Why just him? Let us eat first!”

  “Ruslan, it’s fine,” Max said with a small smile, though a quiet unease stirred inside him.

  The soldier beside them made a brief gesture, and Max followed the scientist without argument. Arguing with staff here didn’t seem wise. Julia drifted after him like a shadow. The others continued toward the cafeteria.

  They walked down a long corridor lit by cold white lights and stopped before heavy metal doors. The scientist swiped his card. The doors slid open, revealing a large room that looked like a cross between a medical office and a technical lab.

  In the center stood a chair with armrests connected to thin cables ending in strange metallic rings. Nearby, monitors displayed unstable graphs jumping up and down.

  “Sit,” the scientist said without looking up from his tablet. “We need to recheck your magical energy level.”

  Max lowered himself into the chair carefully. The metal was cold. He couldn’t help but tense.

  Julia hovered nearby, examining the cables with interest.

  “So these things will tell you if I’m a mage or not?” Max asked quietly.

  “They will be more accurate than the first test,” the scientist replied dryly. “Initial readings sometimes contain errors.”

  Cables were attached to Max’s wrists and temples. The machines powered up. The screens lit. For several minutes, the only sound in the room was the steady hum of equipment.

  Finally, the scientist studied the monitor, frowned slightly, and typed something into his tablet.

  “Same result,” he said as he removed the sensors. “You have no magical energy.”

  “None at all?” Max asked.

  “None. You are… like an empty vessel.”

  Max raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  Julia crossed her arms and smirked faintly.

  “That’s good. Means they’ve got nothing to drain.”

  The scientist didn’t hear her and gestured to the soldier.

  “You may return him to the group.”

  Max stood, masking the mix of relief and uncertainty inside him. Julia drifted beside him as they left the cold hum of the laboratory behind.

  When Max returned, the others were already seated in a large cafeteria. Long rows of tables filled the space. White ceiling lights reflected off polished surfaces, and the air smelled of fresh bread.

  Ruslan spotted him immediately and lifted a hand.

  “Oh, good. We thought they took you apart for spare parts.”

  Max snorted and sat down.

  On their trays were bowls of hot soup, fresh bread, generous portions of stewed meat with potatoes. There were salads. Even dessert – apple pie.

  “They feed us better than some cafés,” Ruslan said between mouthfuls.

  Kristina and Rita sat across from them.

  Max glanced at Rita again. Pale skin. Dark circles under her eyes. A gaze that seemed to look through people rather than at them.

  When she spoke, her tone carried a quiet chill.

  “They feed us well so we don’t think about what they take from us.”

  “What do they take?” Kristina asked softly.

  Rita only gave a faint smile and said nothing more, turning her attention back to her pie.

  Max wanted to press her, but Ruslan nudged him with his elbow and whispered,

  “Eat. Before they take it away.”

  After lunch, they were separated again. Each of them was sent to a different room.

  Max found himself in a small lecture hall. At the front stood a tall man with gray at his temples and a sharp, cold gaze.

  “I am Professor Riddick,” he introduced himself.

  Strange name. First or last?

  He looked like an ordinary schoolteacher – slightly messy hair, a short mustache, brown jacket, dark trousers. The kind of man who clearly loved his subject but was forced to teach students he considered hopeless.

  On the board behind him, an intricate web of glowing lines shimmered faintly.

  “As you can see,” the professor said, pointing with a long metal rod, “we have isolated the primary energy flows from the magical core of your classmate Mikhail. I told you it did not happen randomly. Develop your magical channels. And develop them again. Now – what can you say about what you see?”

  His gaze swept across the room.

  For a brief second, Max felt it settle on him.

  Silence filled the classroom.

  Finally, a boy in the front row raised his hand hesitantly. He had short hair and large glasses that made his eyes look oversized. His raised hand trembled.

  As he stood, a rough-looking boy behind him smacked the back of his head. The glasses nearly fell, but he caught them smoothly. Clearly not the first time.

  “Professor Riddick,” the boy began quickly, “Mikhail’s channels show damage. That suggests he lost control of the magical flow or – ”

  He stopped abruptly and glanced around nervously.

  “You may finish your thought, Vasily,” the professor said with mild interest.

  Vasily looked uneasy. The tension in the room tightened. It felt as though he was about to say something he should not.

  “Perhaps during the ‘procedure,’ Mikhail’s core activated with incompatible energy. He couldn’t release it outward, which caused internal channel damage. And then… well… you know…”

  “That,” the professor cut in, “is how magic awakens improperly. Which is why awakening must occur under strict supervision.”

  As he spoke, he looked directly at Max and the other newcomers.

  “And you, new students, pay close attention. After class, you will remain. I will give you a short program outlining what you must review.”

  A quiet wave of groans spread through the room.

  Several scientists and military personnel seated in the back stood up and left calmly, under the jealous looks of the “regular” students.

  The lesson continued.

  There was a lot of information.

  The professor spoke about forming a magical core and activating the first ring around it. He explained proper meditation techniques, how to absorb ambient energy, how certain magically enriched plants served in the cafeteria supported core formation, and much more.

  Judging by the bored expressions around him, most of the others already knew this.

  Max understood very little.

  Ruslan understood nothing and barely pretended to listen.

  Kristina, however, looked fascinated. Magic was magic – what was not to like?

  Max felt strongly that he needed textbooks. Diagrams. Something visual.

  But the real question was different.

  Did he even want to awaken magic?

  From what he gathered between the lines, this classroom was full of those who had not yet awakened their magical energy. Some had been here for years without forming a core. Some lacked patience. Some lacked discipline. Some simply could not generate power.

  Or did not want to.

  Maybe the energy they were being pushed toward simply was not compatible with them.

  One thing was clear: Professor Riddick saw them as lazy failures.

  And yet –

  If every single student here showed no enthusiasm for awakening magic, that meant something.

  Maybe they were not stupid at all.

  Maybe they knew something the others did not.