The world around him shifted. The ruined corridor in the university suddenly transformed into a small, dimly lit room. It was a strange sensation, like the abrupt change of channels on a TV, where everything, including the mood, instantly becomes different. For Mioray, it felt as though only a second had passed between being in the university, hunted by a monstrous man, and finding himself lying on a sofa. He sat up, surprisingly without difficulty. His body felt light and energized, nothing like the battered state it had been in moments before. Although, he couldn’t be entirely sure it was just moments ago. Some time must have passed. The question was, how much?

  The only source of light came from a dim night lamp on a wooden table in the corner of the room. Next to it lay a notebook and pen. The lamp’s soft glow cast eerie shadows that danced across the bare walls, revealing their rough orange brick texture. The ceiling soared high above, punctuated by a network of pipes crisscrossing the expanse, lending the space an industrial touch. There were no windows, making it impossible to discern the time of day or night.

  Mioray instinctively reached into his pockets but found them empty. His phone wasn’t there. Thinking back, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had it. Was it still with him when he was running from the giant man? Or had he lost it during the explosion in the cafeteria?

  That thought led him to another startling realization. His right arm. It was intact, seamlessly connected to his body, with no visible scars or sutures. He moved it around experimentally, though he’d already done so without realizing it. Still, he needed to confirm it responded to his commands. It did, smoothly, without hindrance.

  But that wasn’t the only surprise. Mioray rolled up the unfamiliar white T-shirt he was wearing and examined his torso. No holes. No indication that it had been partially blown open, no sign that his heart had been exposed beneath shattered ribs.

  There were only two plausible explanations for this. Either the attack on the university had been nothing more than a dream, or Mioray possessed the same regenerative ability as the monster.

  The door to the room opened with a loud creak. Mioray’s head snapped toward it. It was a steel roll-up door, coated in green paint, and a black-haired woman stood there, rolling it up. Her hair was braided, and she wore blue sports shorts paired with a white tracksuit with blue sleeves. Her expression was blank, at least until she spotted Mioray sitting on the sofa. Her amber eyes widened, and her mouth opened in surprise. An amber flower pin in her hair accentuated the color of her eyes.

  Without a word, she moved toward Mioray like a gust of wind. Stopping in front of him, she began gesturing with her hands. Mioray recognized it being sign language. He blinked, confused. Did she think he understood it?

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know sign language,” he said, a guilty look crossing his face.

  The woman paused, tapping on her chin with eyebrows raised slightly. She glanced around before holding both hands up, palms facing her, and wiggling her fingers. Mioray didn’t understand that either, but she had already turned to the table, picking up the notebook and pen.

  As she moved back to him, she scribbled something quickly on the page and then held it out for him to read.

  “Don’t worry. You’re not supposed to,” Mioray read aloud. He frowned, tilting his head. “Not supposed to what?”

  The woman crossed her arms under her chest, her brows furrowing. Mioray’s guilt grew. Clearly, he’d said something wrong.

  “Oh, wait, I get it,” he said after a beat, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “You mean I’m not supposed to know sign language?”

  The woman tucked the notebook under her arm and then made a sign with her hands: her right fist, with her index finger pointing forward, tapped twice against her left hand, which was held similarly but at a different angle. Mioray had no idea what it meant but decided it probably signified agreement.

  “Where am I? How did I get here?” he asked. It seemed like she might be deaf, but she could understand him, likely through lip-reading or a hearing aid. From his vantage point, Mioray couldn’t see whether she wore an aid, and it would be rude to stare.

  The woman began writing again. Her pen moved swiftly across the page, showing she was used to this method of communication. When she turned the notebook toward him, her handwriting was neat and elegant, written in clean cursive.

  “You’re safe now,” Mioray read aloud. “I’ve heard about what happened to you, and I’m glad you finally regained consciousness.”

  Mioray hesitated. The phrasing was strange. Regained consciousness? But had he even lost it? He remembered being in the university, then suddenly waking up here. His vision had darkened at the end, sure, but he didn’t recall blacking out entirely.

  The woman waited patiently, holding the notebook in front of her. Mioray noticed there was more written on the page.

  “My name is Mia… Oh,” he muttered, his face flushing. “Sorry, I didn’t see that part at first. It’s nice to meet you, Mia. I’m Mioray.”

  Mia started writing again.

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” the next page read. “You changed only recently, right?”

  Mioray’s stomach churned as he read the words. What did she mean, “changed”? Was it connected to the horrifying wounds he’d somehow recovered from?

  “It's a good thing we found you,” he continued, his voice muffled. “We’re like you, and we’re taking care of each other.”

  “Mia, I don’t understand,” Mioray looked at the woman.

  The pen scraped against the paper, the sound echoing faintly through the room. Mia smiled reassuringly as she turned the notebook to face him.

  “We shall get the others and let them know you’re conscious. Then we can talk everything through. You know, Erinel was waiting for you to come back.”

  Mioray’s voice trembled as he read Erinel’s name. Mia was the third person who seemed to know about her. He had been the first, Kevin the second. That meant Erinel was real, that she was somewhere nearby.

  But something still didn’t add up.

  “Mia, how long have I been here?” Mioray asked cautiously.

  Her response came in less than three seconds, neatly scrawled on the next page.

  “Two weeks?!”

  Mioray leapt from the sofa, his sudden movement startling Mia. The notebook and pen fell from her hands.

  “Shit, I need to get home! I need to know if Juju and Angelika are alright!” he shouted.

  Oh. Right.

  And Chris and Julie were already dead.

  For a brief moment, a chilling thought crossed Mioray’s mind. Am I being held hostage here?

  He bolted for the door. Mia didn’t try to stop him. Instead, she frantically grabbed the notebook and pen from the floor and waved after him. But Mioray didn’t stop.

  Once outside, he found himself in a corridor lined with identical doors, some wider than the one he’d just come through. The floor was illuminated by harsh, cold lighting from overhead LED lamps. From the look of it, the place was a storage facility. Was it underground? He scanned the walls for exit signs but didn’t see any. Fantastic. He would have to run blindly.

  As Mioray moved, his thoughts raced. Two weeks had passed. Two whole weeks, with no memory of it. Worse, Mia had only said he’d been here for two weeks. Who knew how much time had passed between the giant man’s rampage at the university and his arrival at this facility?

  Last he remembered, he’d been in a terrible state, missing an arm and fatally wounded. Now, aside from his still-missing left arm, he was fine. No modern medicine could account for this. How much time had really passed?

  “Hey, where are you running, funny guy?”

  The voice came from a door rolled halfway up, revealing a storage room that looked like a garage. Mioray stepped inside. Tools hung on the walls, and in the center of the space was a car with blue flame decals, sitting on a vehicle lift. It was an old model, one of the rare types still using wheels instead of leveels, the anti-gravity modules powered by stardust.

  Mioray’s thoughts briefly wandered. Stardust – bronze-like sand that emitted high heat – was mined from deserts and had only recently been rediscovered after being lost for centuries. It was so volatile it could burn flesh if held with bare hands. The name came from ancient beliefs that sand absorbed energy from starlight.

  He shook his head. Random facts, historical or not, always had a way of overtaking his mind at the worst times.

  A man emerged from beneath the car, dressed in overalls, his face smudged with grease. He wiped his hands on a cloth before extending one in greeting.

  “You’re the new armless guy, right? Make yourself at home. So, what’s your story?”

  Mioray froze, not taking the man’s hand. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as the world continued to unravel around him.

  “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” the man teased, laughing. “Happens sometimes when people meet me.”

  He paused, raising an eyebrow as if realizing something. “Oh, wait. I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I? Maybe you already know who I am?”

  Yes. Mioray knew exactly who this man was.

  Terry Strands.

  They weren’t acquainted, but everyone in the city knew Terry. He had been a prodigious racer, a legend in the world of competitive racing. His story was one of triumph. He rose from obscurity to become the pride of Reques City. But his fame had ended abruptly after he caused a reckless, high-speed crash on the city streets that claimed the lives of three people.

  Including Terry Strands himself.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Mioray’s chest tightened. A man who was supposed to be dead was now casually working on car maintenance in some obscure storage facility?

  It was too much.

  Without a word, Mioray turned and walked away. By the time he reached the corridor, he was running again.

  “Hey, funny guy! Don’t be afraid!” Terry called after him, his voice echoing. “Come back! I won’t hurt you, I promise!”

  Yeah, sure, Mioray thought grimly, picking up speed. When someone says they won’t hurt you, there’s a good chance they plan to do just that.

  The corridor twisted and turned, a maze of identical walls and doors. Mioray took every corner at random, hoping to lose Terry. But his reckless sprint ended in frustration when he hit a dead end. Behind him, Terry’s voice grew louder, closer.

  Why is this place a maze? Mioray slammed his fist against one of the doors in frustration. It wobbled under his strike, letting out a dissatisfied creak as hot steam hissed from its edges. The temperature in the corridor was cool, making the heat from the door seem all the more out of place.

  He didn’t have time to think. Grabbing the handle, he rolled the door up, slipped inside, and pulled it shut behind him. The room was dark, filled with thick steam.

  “Hey, funny guy, where’d you go?” Terry’s voice was right outside the door.

  Mioray leaned against it, closing his eyes and holding his breath.

  Please, just go away. Don’t look here. Just go.

  His heart pounded as Terry muttered something, his voice moving closer, then receding. A few seconds later, it faded entirely. Mioray exhaled, relief washing over him.

  Okay. I’ll wait a few minutes, then get out of here.

  The room was impossible to see through, with steam clouding every corner. Still, a faint yellow glow caught Mioray’s attention from the opposite end. With nothing better to do, he made his way toward it.

  To his surprise, he found another, smaller room. It looked like a bathroom. The walls were covered in small yellow tiles, and the floor was made of larger grey stone plates. A mirror hung above a sink, a towel rested on a hanger, and a small wooden bench held some folded clothes. In the center of the room, a white ceramic bathtub sat beneath a brass faucet, which poured nearly boiling water into the tub. The lack of ventilation explained the steam filling the space.

  The bathtub was overflowing, water spilling over its edges and flowing into a square steel drain set into the grey stone plate below. Without a second thought, Mioray reached for the faucet to turn off the water, when suddenly, a girl with wet auburn hair plastered to her face surfaced from the bathtub.

  Mioray froze. His heart skipped a beat. The girl looked about his age, and she was completely naked. Her body, lean and elegant, wasn’t what shocked him most, although, admittedly, it was the first time he’d seen a real woman unclothed.

  No, it was her skin.

  Rationally, someone bathing in such scalding water should have flushed, pink skin at the very least. Realistically, they’d have third-degree burns. But her skin was perfectly normal, smooth and unblemished. If it weren’t for the rising steam, no one would have suspected the water was even hot.

  A cold shiver ran down Mioray’s spine, the chill spreading from the inside out. It wasn’t from the steam, nor from the girl’s appearance. It was from her eyes. Her piercing green gaze met his, sharp and unyielding as she brushed her hair out of her face.

  “I don’t remember asking for company,” she said coldly, nodding toward the towel hanging on the wall. “Do you mind?”

  Wordlessly, like a fool, Mioray reached for the towel and handed it to her. Her unblinking eyes stayed locked on him the entire time, her gaze like a frost-covered blade. She snatched the towel and wrapped it around herself in one smooth motion, water dripping onto the floor in steady splashes.

  “Are you an idiot?” Her voice rose steadily, carrying the weight of rising anger. “What the hell are you staring at? Want me to beat some sense into you?”

  “No!” Mioray stepped back, both hand and stump raised in surrender. “Look, I’m sorry! I didn’t know anyone was in here. It was an accident, I swear!”

  “Oh, yeah?” Her glare hardened, and her eyes narrowed with dangerous intent. “Watch me accidentally kick your ass!”

  Mioray didn’t wait for her to make good on that promise. He spun around and bolted for the door, heart pounding in his chest. I do not need this right now!

  He rolled up the door and darted back into the corridor. He didn’t care if he ran into Terry Strands again. Anything was better than being caught by that girl. Two arms or one, Mioray had no doubt she’d overpower him. Her presence had a kind of cold, blizzard-like weight to it, and just thinking about it made him shudder.

  The corridor outside was empty, so Mioray continued running aimlessly, unsure of where the exit might be. There was no sign of Mia, Terry, or the girl with the cold, deadly stare. His heart pounded in his chest as he slowed to a stop, trying to gather his thoughts. But just as he paused, a small voice cut through the silence, startling him.

  “Why are you running around? I’ve seen you pass by three times already. Isn’t it pointless? Or do you have nothing better to do?”

  Mioray whipped his head around. There was a narrow gap between two storage rooms, and in the space between them sat a young boy on the floor. He had a lollipop sticking out of the corner of his mouth. The boy wasn’t scolding Mioray. His crystal-blue eyes had a sincere, curious look, as if he was genuinely interested in Mioray’s frantic running.

  Ironically, Mioray himself couldn’t come up with a good explanation for what he was doing. He had just learned that two weeks of his life had vanished, that a murderous stranger had torn apart the university he attended, and that two of his friends were dead. And so the panic had taken over, and he got fixated on finding an exit.

  “And you’ve already started off on bad terms with Farah,” the boy chuckled. “Trust me, she’s terrible at letting things go. You’re doomed.”

  Farah, Mioray assumed, was the girl from the bathtub. Great. Now he had to keep an eye out for her too.

  “Listen, uh… what’s your name?” Mioray asked, unsure how to respond to the boy's remarks. He hoped the kid wasn’t a threat.

  “Matt,” the boy replied simply.

  “Listen, Matt, can you help me get out of here? I really need to get home and let my parents know I’m alright. I’ve already made them worry once, and now I’ve done it again.”

  “I’m sure they’re worried,” Matt said with a shrug. For a moment, Mioray thought he saw a shadow flicker across the boy’s face, but it was gone in an instant. Matt was still smiling, lazily shifting the lollipop from one corner of his mouth to the other. “But everyone’s looking for you. I heard Kevin’s getting annoyed that you’re running away from everyone. Let’s go to his room. Miss Erinel’s there too, waiting.”

  The boy hopped on his feet and motioned for Mioray to follow. Mioray curled his lips. There was no point in running anymore. He couldn’t outrun the truth forever. It was always there, lurking around the corner, waiting to catch him off guard. Today, it had taken the form of Erinel. He wanted to see her again, but he was also terrified.

  What mess did I get myself into? he thought, his gaze drifting to the wall. Nothing has been normal since the day I woke up in that morgue.

  Reluctantly, he followed Matt, a growing sense of unease gnawing at him. His mind circled back to that fateful night at the bar. Was it a coincidence that Erinel had shown up on his birthday? Or had she orchestrated it? The other bartender said he’d never heard of her. If she wasn’t employed there, how did she get behind the counter? Why did she serve only him all evening? The more he thought about it, the more it felt like she’d been stalking him.

  The Dismantler is still out there, Mioray thought, his gaze dropping to his left arm, or, more precisely, the stump where his arm used to be. Anyone could be the killer.

  Deep down, he already knew what Erinel was going to tell him. He was just too afraid to hear it.

  “So, what’s your name?” Matt asked, glancing back at him.

  “Mioray.”

  “What happened to your arm?”

  “Ugh, I’m not really sure. I woke up one day, and it was just… gone.”

  “What, really?” The boy blinked, confused. “There’s gotta be more to it.”

  “I guess,” Mioray replied, sighing. “But that’s all I know.”

  “Want a lollipop, Mioray?” Matt opened his palm, revealing three lollipops wrapped in red, green, and yellow foil.

  “No, thanks,” Mioray declined automatically. The last time he put something edible in his mouth, it didn’t end well. He didn’t want to repeat the experience.

  “It’s alright. You will get used to it,” Matt unwrapped all three lollipops in a single smooth motion before shoving them into his mouth at once. He spoke around them, his voice muffled. “You ever notice how candies never taste like the real fruit they’re based on? It’s weird, right? Strawberries, grapes, bananas – they all taste different in candy form. You know why?”

  Before Mioray could answer, Matt continued.

  “It’s because the artificial flavors are based on how fruits used to taste, like the old varieties that don’t exist anymore due to the global drought.”

  Mioray had heard about that before. It was all tied to project Messiriah, a desperate effort to preserve plants, animals, and other life forms. To adapt to the harsh, changing environment, most species had to be genetically modified, which led to the extinction of many original varieties and the birth of new ones. He’d never really thought about how it affected something as simple as fruit, but it made sense.

  “Yeah, I think that was a thing even before the drought,” Mioray said. “The best example is banana flavoring. It’s actually based on an old variety of bananas that tasted better, but they went extinct because of a fungal disease. So every time people complain that banana flavor doesn’t taste like real bananas, they’re wrong. It does taste like bananas, just a better variety than the ones we have now.”

  “Whoa, seriously?” Matt grinned, his eyes lighting up. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about! Can you tell me more about it?”

  “It’s hardly the time for candy trivia,” came a voice from the open room ahead. Mioray didn’t need to see the speaker to know it was Kevin.

  The room they stepped into was so pompous it felt out of place within the storage facility. It looked like a high-end lawyer’s office. Tall bookshelves, crammed with thick tomes embossed in gold lettering, were built into the back wall. A large, polished red-wood desk stood in front of the shelves, sitting on a plush green carpet with ornate brown patterns. A faux fireplace flickered with soft orange light, its flames little more than projections.

  ??Kevin sat at the desk in a massive leather chair, his head tilted downward, his attention focused on his fingers. He was clipping his nails with a small, silver clipper, maintaining an almost obsessive rhythm. His eyes flicked toward Mioray and Matt as they entered, but his fingers didn’t slow. Each clipped nail fell to the tabletop, joining a growing pile of discarded crescents.

  Mioray leaned against the wall for balance. He felt dizzy, disoriented. Everything felt so surreal. Just a short time ago, he’d seen Kevin at the university, stepping in to help during the attack. Kevin had fought off the monstrous man with a bizarre weapon that looked like fingernails. But now he knew for sure that the weapon was Kevin’s actual fingernails. Every time Kevin clipped one off, it grew back in an instant, fresh and sharp like the edge of a blade. That wasn’t normal. None of this was normal.

  “Well, well, well, our sleeping beauty finally decided to wake up,” Kevin said with a scowl. “Took you long enough. I was starting to think you were just weak and incompetent. Now I’m sure of it.”

  “Kevin, don’t be so harsh on Mioray,” Matt spoke up, defending him. “I’m sure, with a little more time, he’d figure things out.”

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion, Matt,” Kevin snapped, his tone sharp as the snipping of his nail clippers grew more forceful. “You figured it out on your own, and it didn’t take you a whole month to do it.”

  “Everyone has their own pace,” a familiar voice chimed in.

  The moment Mioray heard it, he jolted upright as if he’d been stung. He’d been wondering where Erinel was, and now he had his answer. She was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, her posture as composed as ever. Their eyes met, and she offered him a soft, knowing smile.

  “Welcome, Mioray,” she said, her voice smooth as silk. “It’s been a while. Did you miss me?”

  Her question caught him off guard. How was he supposed to answer that?

  Did he miss her? In a way, yes. From the moment he first saw her, she had never truly left his thoughts. But maybe that was only because everything in his life had spiraled out of control since that moment. He couldn’t be sure.

  His mind flickered back to the hospital. Was she really there, or was it just a hallucination caused by the sweet gas that knocked everyone else out but left me awake? He thought of the university. Did I really see her then, or was it just the final trick of my mind fading into unconsciousness from blood loss?

  He wanted an explanation. Needed one. But deep down, he wasn’t sure he was ready for it. Every answer would bring him closer to the truth, and part of him feared that truth would be worse than the confusion. Since the moment he woke up in the morgue, nothing had felt real.

  Erinel crossed her legs and folded her hands on her knee, her gaze never leaving his.

  “I understand your hesitation,” she said calmly, as if she’d read his thoughts. “So, I’ll lay it all out for you. No riddles, no games. You deserve to know.” Her eyes softened, but her words hit like a hammer.

  “Yes, Mioray,” she said, her voice clear and deliberate. “It’s true. You’re dead.”

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