The first thing he felt upon waking was pain.

  Not the kind that sets off alarms. The other kind. The kind that warns you that something actually worked. Thighs, shoulders, obliques—a dull, widespread ache that traveled through his body every time he tried to move.

  Kein intentionally stretched slowly in bed like a cat, letting his muscles protest.

  'It's been so long.'

  He hadn't felt this in decades. He savored the sensation for a few seconds before getting up.

  The morning was brief. Exercise, a shower, psychology books open on the desk while he ate the last of the kimchi. One or two things resonated; most did not. He closed the book, jotted down three words on a piece of paper, and left it on the table.

  It was half an hour before nine-thirty when it happened.

  Text appeared at the left edge of his field of vision. Sharp. Legible for the first time.

  [ACTIVE INTERFACE — CALIBRATION COMPLETE]

  [Initiating wakefulness mode.]

  Kein remained still for a moment.

  "Prisma."

  "Affirmative."

  The voice sounded different than it had in the White Space. Closer. As if it were coming from inside his skull, without an echo.

  "How much energy do we have?"

  "Current energy: 194 units. Passive consumption: 1 unit per hour. The Active Interface does not consume resources."

  Kein analyzed the interface's appearance. Unlike in NEXARA, here he only had a holographic clock in the right corner of his vision, a small battery icon with the number '208' in the left corner, and finally, a very faint green circle that inferred the interface was active.

  "Close the visual interface for now."

  "Confirmed. Note: You can activate or deactivate the interface by thought. The interface can display content if necessary even while turned off."

  *Beep.*

  'Much better. It's not intrusive; it disappears from my sight when I don't pay attention to it, but it's better to deactivate it when not in use.'

  Kein grabbed his hoodie from the hook. It was time to go to work.

  ---

  Dustin was already on stage when Kein arrived. He was walking from one end to the other with a level of concentration disproportionate to the simple act of walking. Ana arrived five minutes later, looking like she'd had little sleep, a coffee in each hand.

  "Brought these, just in case."

  She offered one to Kein. He accepted it.

  Dustin stopped walking.

  "We begin."

  First was breathing. Standing, feet shoulder-width apart, hands on the abdomen. Inhale slowly, expand the belly outward. Controlled exhale.

  Dustin corrected Ana twice.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  "Lower. Not in the chest."

  To Kein, once.

  "Don't force the expansion. Just let it happen."

  They moved on to projection. Dustin went to the back of the theater and instructed them to say any random phrase without raising their voices. Ana tried.

  "Too much from the throat. The resonance comes from here."

  He pointed to his chest.

  Kein tried. Dustin said nothing, which Kein was beginning to understand was his way of saying it was fine.

  Then came the tongue twisters, exaggerating mouth and jaw movements until the facial muscles protested. And finally, body work: crossing the stage while being conscious of every step, of weight, of where their eyes were looking.

  Dustin corrected Kein once.

  "Your center of gravity is too high. You walk like someone ready to bolt."

  Four hours later, Marcus appeared with a folder under his arm.

  "Good. Ten minutes and we start with the play."

  Ana flopped into a chair with the relief of someone who had just survived an ordeal. Kein remained standing. The morning ache had mutated into something more diffuse, more spread out. His lungs had complained during the projection exercises in a way he hadn't expected.

  'More work ahead than I thought.'

  Marcus opened the folder.

  "The next play. We have one month."

  He handed out three sets of pages. Kein took his.

  On the cover, it read: *The Third Man*.

  "It's a romantic comedy," Marcus said. "A love triangle. Two friends who don't know they both want the same girl. For the main characters: Dustin, you are Daniel. Kein, you are Lucas. Ana, Sofia."

  Ana looked at her copy.

  "The girl doesn't know anything?"

  "At first, no. Later she finds out and lets them suffer."

  "Understood."

  "We'll do a table read. No acting, just to get to know the text."

  Marcus sat in a side chair. Kein opened the pages.

  The first scene opened in a café. Daniel and Lucas, best friends since childhood, were talking about Sofia, neither knowing the other's feelings.

  "Lucas," Dustin read in a flat, first-read voice. "I need to ask a favor."

  "Tell me," Kein read.

  "It's about Sofia."

  A beat in the text. Director's note: *Lucas tenses slightly. He hides it.*

  "What's going on with Sofia?"

  "I think... I don't know. I think I like her."

  Another note: *Silence. Lucas processes. He smiles.*

  "Wow."

  "Wow? That's all you've got?"

  "What do you want me to say?"

  "I don't know, something useful. You're my best friend."

  "Yeah. And as your best friend, I'm telling you: wow."

  Marcus smiled from his chair.

  The scene continued with Daniel asking Lucas to help him win Sofia over. Lucas agreeing. The joke was that Lucas was also in love with her and had just voluntarily offered to play matchmaker for his own rival.

  The second scene was between Lucas and Sofia. Daniel had sent him to "prime the ground."

  "Reading?" Ana read.

  "Trying to," Kein read. "I get distracted easily."

  "With what?"

  Note: *Lucas hesitates. He gives an answer that isn't a lie, but isn't the truth either.*

  "With things I shouldn't be thinking about."

  "Like what?"

  "Like whether the coffee is too hot to drink yet, or if it's worth the wait."

  "And?"

  "That it's always worth the wait. Even if it hurts a little."

  Ana looked up from the paper for a moment. Then she looked back down.

  "Was that the most obvious metaphor in the world, or was it just me?" she asked, breaking character.

  "It was a very obvious metaphor," Marcus confirmed. "That's part of the joke. Lucas thinks he's being subtle. He isn't."

  Dustin raised an eyebrow.

  "And Daniel?"

  "Daniel is just as obvious but in the opposite direction. He asks Lucas for romantic advice about Sofia without realizing Lucas is suffering in real-time."

  They continued reading. The third scene was the first time all three met. Daniel had organized a "casual" lunch with Sofia and invited Lucas "so as not to seem too interested."

  "This was a bad idea," Dustin read in a low voice, like an aside to the audience.

  "What?" Ana read.

  "That this is very good. The food."

  "You hadn't even tasted it yet."

  "Intuition."

  Note: *Lucas watches Daniel watch Sofia. He watches Sofia not notice a thing. He wonders if he isn't just as obvious.*

  He is just as obvious.

  "Do you guys come here often?" Ana read.

  "Daniel does," Kein read. "I follow him wherever he goes. Bad habit."

  "It's not a bad habit," Dustin read. "It's loyalty."

  "It's the same thing with better marketing."

  Ana let out a small laugh, still in the read.

  "That line is good," she said, breaking character.

  "It works if the delivery is dry," Dustin said. "If you fish for the laugh, it won't land."

  Kein made a mental note of it.

  Marcus closed his copy.

  "Enough for today. Next week we start working scene by scene. I want you to have at least the first half of the text memorized by then."

  Ana folded the pages and tucked them into her notebook.

  "Are there more characters?"

  "Three supporting roles. I'll look for them this week."

  They left the theater together after one o'clock. The sun beat down hard on the sidewalk. Ana put on her sunglasses and announced she was hungry. Dustin didn't say yes, but he didn't head in the opposite direction either.

  Kein followed them.

  He had an audition tomorrow and a role to learn. Enough for now.