The cluttered room was dimly lit by a single bulb dangling from the ceiling and a strange device in the corner, pulsing with a faint bluish light. The latter filled the air with a low, electric hum.

  Noah looked around slowly, hesitant to move. The place didn’t look like a reception area at all — more like a messy basement.

  He glanced at Beata; the girl met his eyes, just as confused. Then both of them turned toward Adrian. Audrie was nowhere in sight, and the punk looked as lost as they did.

  “Maybe... some kind of mistake?” the German mumbled, glancing around.

  A mistake? On their very first teleportation — with the first person they’d met in Regia? Noah didn’t believe in mistakes like that. The whole thing stank of setup.

  “Not a mistake,” said Beata, echoing his thoughts. She moved toward a metal shelf blocking a set of peeling doors. Pulling the handle, she tried to open them, but they wouldn’t budge. “We’ve been duped.”

  “No,” Adrian shook his head. “No, no. Audrie? Trick us? She’s... she’s too nice! Too lovely! Something must’ve broken... or glitched.”

  “Nice? That’s your reliability standard now?” Noah muttered, helping Beata shove the shelf aside. “And where’s your nice lady now?”

  “Maybe she stayed behind, or got sent somewhere else…”

  “Or,” Noah cut him off, “this is another Dream Sphere situation. Only this time, no admins and no consolation prizes.”

  They cleared the door completely, and Beata tried again to pull it open. When that failed, Noah kicked them— and immediately realized they opened inward. Not a chance.

  “Teleportation circle,” Beata pointed at the faint pattern etched on the floor. “If it works like the others, there should be a keypad somewhere.”

  “Could you stop standing there and help us look?” Noah shot at Adrian. “Unless you’d rather wait for your nice lady to come back and save you... or whatever else she plans to do.”

  “But... why would she do this to us?” the punk muttered, sounding genuinely lost.

  “We’re like clueless villagers in a big city,” Beata said, rummaging through a pile of boxes. “We don’t know what to expect, or who’s going to stick a knife in our backs. And like proper villagers, we followed the first stranger who smiled at us.”

  “You’re seriously twelve?” Noah asked.

  “Shut up, okay? I’ve read a lot of books. And not just fairy tales!”

  “Good for you,” Noah muttered, crouching beside the pulsing device. He traced a few cables, trying to find the keypad. “Because the other well-read genius here hasn’t lifted a finger. Adrian, you gonna help or what?”

  “Yeah, fine,” the punk sighed. “I’ll... check over there.”

  “Found it!” Beata shouted a moment later.

  Whoever had installed the teleportation unit had stashed the keypad in the farthest corner, as if trying to hide it. A thin black wire connected it to the glowing device.

  “So what now?” she asked.

  “Let me think... If it’s anything like a cellphone network, it should have region codes, a provider ID, and then the destination number. Something like that. Random numbers won’t work... Wait — give me that!”

  She handed it over. Noah flipped the keypad and checked the back. There was a serial number and some tech gibberish he didn’t understand. No contact numbers, no instructions, nothing useful.

  “There’s a screen,” Beata pointed out. “Maybe it still shows the last dialed number?”

  “Are you really twelve?” Noah wondered again, tapping the keys randomly. The narrow display flickered to life, showing only a single blinking cursor waiting for input.

  He tried a few odd keys and combinations, but nothing changed. Once or twice, the cursor turned into a small arrow, which did absolutely nothing.

  “Did you see any numbers back there before we teleported?” Beata asked.

  “No, but... Adrian was standing right next to her when she entered it! Hey, Adrian! Do you remember what number Audrie typed in?”

  No reply.

  “Adrian?”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  They both turned toward the back of the room. Adrian stood perfectly still, head down, arms slack — like he’d fallen asleep on his feet.

  “Adr—”

  “Well, that’s one down,” interrupted a cool, businesslike voice.

  Audrie’s voice.

  Behind Adrian, a cold blue glow flared. A small orb, no larger than a fist, floated out of Adrian’s back, tethered to his body by fine glowing threads.

  Noah instantly recognized it. He’d seen something like it before — when Gaudemunda had guided him out of the Dream Sphere.

  Adrian swayed and collapsed face-first onto the floor. The glowing strands snapped. His body shattered into a thousand faintly sparkling fragments. Even those began to fade, crumbling into fine dust until there was nothing left.

  Audrie’s orb unfurled into her human form again. She smiled at them — calm, unapologetic.

  “You two,” she said, pointing at them in turn, “are stronger than I thought. I’m impressed you didn’t give in like Adrian did.”

  Like Adrian, Noah echoed in his mind. So it wasn’t hormones. Could she control his thoughts?

  “You...” Beata stammered, terrified. “Why?”

  “Because you’re weak, and no one will miss you,” Audrie said with a shrug. “It’s truly nothing personal — even if it’s going to hurt.”

  “She’s a cannibal,” Noah realized aloud.

  Audrie laughed. “Oh, Noah. One in twenty here is. And every single one of you has tasted another’s energy before even leaving the Dream Sphere. You fed on the condemned to survive your test, didn’t you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”

  “You... you lured us here,” Beata said. “That means no one in Regia would approve of what you’re doing...”

  “Of course not,” Audrie said, stepping closer and forcing them into a corner. “So here’s what’s going to happen. Since you already know too much, I can’t use the gentle approach. I can’t absorb you like I did Adrian, and for that, I’m truly sorry. This is going to hurt — a lot. You’re still new, still wired for pain. So yes, I do apologize...”

  “Do you?” Noah growled.

  He grabbed a bent metal pipe and swung it hard at her head.

  To his surprise, the pipe struck something solid. The recoil sent a jolt up his arm, numbing it to the shoulder. Audrie merely staggered a step back, more surprised than hurt.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “I really am sorry.”

  Then her hand shot out, clamping around his throat. Her grip crushed his windpipe; her white skin glowed with cold blue light as those thin, radiant tendrils stretched toward him. She pulled him close.

  “Let him go!” Beata screamed, swinging a metal shard straight at Audrie’s face. She aimed for the eyes, forcing the woman to block. She caught the shard midair and tore it from the girl’s grip.

  Noah kicked her between the legs. The pain that shot through him was worse than expected. It was like kicking a wall.

  Maybe she was stone. Or maybe she’d devoured so many newcomers that his effort barely registered.

  The glowing strands sank into his face and neck. The pain dulled, distant now — as if it belonged to someone else. For a heartbeat, surrender almost felt... peaceful.

  But he already knew that feeling. Audrie was consuming him alive. And neither he nor Beata could stop her.

  Noah could almost swear he felt a pulse in his ears — a heartbeat that shouldn’t exist. It pounded louder, stronger, and even Audrie looked startled.

  Still gripping his throat, she glanced toward the door.

  And the door exploded.

  Wood splinters and dust filled the basement. Through the haze flashed beams of light, and Noah’s fading mind clung to the scene — he’d seen this in TV shows: doors blown apart, a SWAT team bursting in, guns drawn, ready to shoot anyone who refused to raise their hands.

  He wanted to raise his hands. God, he wanted to. But all he could do was cling to Audrie’s wrist, trying not to snap his own neck.

  Can you even break your neck when you’re already dead?

  Suddenly, Audrie threw him aside, tearing the glowing strands free. She snatched the keypad from the floor and frantically started typing a number. It took her only seconds. She was about to leap into the teleportation ring—

  Beata lunged and clung to her leg, like a vengeful leech. A moment later, Noah grabbed the other. All three of them went down together — proof that even in the afterlife, momentum and gravity still mattered.

  Audrie hit the floor, sprawled just short of the teleportation ring. Two blinding lights fixed on her face.

  “Don’t move!” a rough male voice barked.

  “She activated the port!” shouted another — a woman. “Don't let her—”

  Audrie lunged forward like a snake, ignoring their warning. The next moment, the basement roared with thunder — not bullets, but real lightning. One blast obliterated the teleport device; the other tore Audrie in half, flinging her remains against the wall.

  “Goddammit, Every!” the female voice shouted. “They were—”

  “I know, I know! Too late now! Another second and she’d be gone!”

  “And total newbies, too,” the woman added, grimly. “Didn’t even make it to the Tourism Center. Hell of a welcome.”

  “Next time they’ll know better than to trust a free dinner,” growled the man. “This ain’t Kansas… Wait, weren’t there supposed to be three of them?”

  Noah wasn’t listening anymore. Something was happening inside him. A surge like scalding water flooded through his every vein. Only it didn’t burn. It was searching for a place to go.

  Or rather, for one of the eight energy nodes deep within him that he was only now realizing existed.

  And Noah had no idea what to do with them.