“Doing research on the Dark Realm.” The line mirrored the lie I’d spun earlier, like a reflection on dark water, though chance could’ve drawn it too.

After all, that woman opened the Dark Realm against all warning, like prying a tomb with bare hands, while I only wanted a doorway into the city.

“Coincidence.” Hedi tipped back the wooden chair like a seesaw, glanced left like a bird testing wind, then peered right without turning, combing the outpost with her eyes.

The room, a ten-meter box, pressed in like a coffin for a stage magician. Flaking paint bared cold cement ribs, and a kerosene lamp fogged the walls with yellow haze.

The guard gave a perfunctory smile, thin as paper in rain. “Perhaps.”

“Time is the biggest engine of coincidence,” Hedi said, voice flat as a blade. “When that woman came, no infected yet. Investigators were here. You were here.”

“When I arrived, only you were left, like the last ember in a brazier.”

She fell silent, tapping the chair leg with a finger like a metronome. Her lips shaped time, time, time, like beads sliding on a string.

Then she pinched her mouth into a line and bit out her conclusion. “Looks like the Empire sealed the news of Shattered City, like a jar with a tight lid.”

“Why?” His question hung like a damp rope.

“Because the nobles didn’t crow about it, not even a whisper on the wind.”

“You’re that sure?” His brows knit like tangled thread.

“They hate Dark Realm Investigators, like cats hate water. They wouldn’t miss a chance to jeer.”

“Blame the Investigators for negligence?” He frowned deeper, as if swallowing a stone. After a few seconds, pain flashed through him like lightning behind clouds.

“They told me to hold here to the death... so that’s it...” His voice dragged like a chain.

“When did you get the order?” Hedi’s tone cooled like morning frost.

“Six months ago.”

Bitter heat stung her mouth, and she bit her lip like tasting iron. No Investigators for this long meant the Empire didn’t plan to clean this mess, just let it rot like fallen fruit.

Residents of Shattered City waiting to die like candles guttering. A guard shackled by orders like a dog on a short leash. A thrill-seeking young professor—shouldn’t have come.

She drew a slow breath, like pulling silk through a ring. She’d hoped to tour the Dark Realm with an Investigator, to feed her restless curiosity like a moth to a lamp.

Who knew the place would be a grave for the living, a city breathing like a corpse.

Time to find an exit, like spotting a gap in a thorn hedge.

She hunted for a clean pretext in her mind, arranging lines like tiles, when the guard called to her, his voice a pebble tossed into a still pond.

She flinched, a tremor like a leaf in a draft, and focus drained into confusion like ink in water.

“What is it?”

“You stopped talking for a while.”

“I was thinking why the Empire sealed Shattered City,” Hedi said, raking a hand through her hair like combing grass, tucking stray strands behind an ear to soothe the itch of interruption.

“Even if there’s no neighboring city, you don’t leave a Dark Realm alone, like you don’t leave fire in dry grass.”

“So did you think of a reason?” His words were cautious, like stepping stones over a stream.

“It should be an Imperial secret,” she said, voice low as ash. “If I can see the fallout, they can too. And I’m just a civilian Professor.”

“So the King might still send an Investigator.”

Hedi said nothing. Sleep pooled behind her eyes like a tide. She breathed a small yawn, a soft breeze to scatter fog, but weariness soon settled again like snow.

“You’re already sleepy?”

“I don’t stay up,” she said, blunt as a knock.

She rubbed her face, the skin cool as porcelain. She flipped open her pocket watch like a locket and glanced at the dial.

Nine p.m.—milk time, the soft hour before sleep, like lamplight on curtains.

She sighed, slipped the watch back into her pocket, and lifted her suitcase, rising with the guard like a shadow following a lantern.

“No, your room’s right here.”

“What?”

“I was clear.” His tone was a nail set with one tap.

Hedi scanned the room like a sparrow on a fence, then pointed at the wooden cot crouched in the corner. “You want me to sleep there?”

The cot was ancient, dust thick as a winter quilt. Cracked boards gaped like rotten teeth, ready to collapse under a breath. The bedding was a constellation of stains and holes.

“Why else would I bring you?” His smile tilted like a bent coin.

“I thought it was a temporary rest room, like a waystation.”

“ I said when we came in,” the guard answered with a helpless half-smile. “It’s filthy and messy, like a pigpen after rain.”

“Where are you sleeping?”

“Wherever, but not in the same room,” he said, drawing a line like chalk on stone.

“Why?”

“Men and women are different!” He lifted his chin like a stubborn mule.

Fine wrinkles gathered around Hedi’s eyes, tight as stitched thread. She was not amused, like a cat with its tail stepped on.

“Don’t worry,” he added, a brittle laugh on his lips. “The residents of Shattered City are still human.”

“Heh.” Her mouth parted, a flick of heat like a spark. Her fingers curled tight, small claws in her palm. “I wasn’t scared while we were talking, and I won’t start now. I’m not afraid.”

“Right, nothing to fear.” He pulled the outpost door open like a creaking lid, stepped out with his left foot, then turned back.

“Not that it’s important, but brace the door when you sleep. The lock’s broken.”

Hedi watched him close the door and go. Unease hit her like a wave slamming a seawall.

It threw her back to childhood, friends packed around a TV like chicks under a wing, horror flicks flickering like lightning behind curtains.

With friends beside her, fear had no teeth. After the credits, it crept back like cold under a door.

Maybe it was thriller aftershock. Maybe it was silence breeding dread like mold in damp.

Either way, the panic matched: the empty room, and the parting warning like a thorn left in skin.

What do you mean, the lock’s broken?

Shouldn’t that be the first thing you say, like shouting “fire” before the smoke?

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat like a drum in a jar. She drew a deep breath, air filling her lungs like cool water in a cistern.

With the exhale, her body lightened like a kite on wind, and her pulse eased back into rhythm.

She went to the door and turned the knob, slow as winding a music box. No click, no gentle tongue of metal, only the heavy hush of a dead well.

She slid her pinky into the keyhole, seeking the latch like a blind finger seeking a vein. The lock was silent, a gutted clock.

“It really is broken,” she said, the words a frost bloom.

She dragged a wooden chair to brace the door, but the back wouldn’t catch the handle, like a hand too short for a shelf.

Even if it did, the chair was feather-light, a leaf against a stream. A push from outside could shove right through.

She needed weight, an anchor.

She tried the cot. It didn’t budge, as if nailed to the earth like a stubborn root.

“This rotten place!” The curse snapped like a twig.

She planted the chair before the door and sat, letting her body weight serve as a stone, ready to feel any shove like a ripple through bone.

She shut her eyes and drifted, mouth slack like a door ajar, a faint mumble threading out. Her body leaned right, a slow tilt like the Leaning Tower.

She didn’t know how long passed. A sneeze pulled her back—achoo—sharp as a spark.

The kerosene lamp had died, a cold wick in the dark. Only dim skyglow ghosted the room like thin milk.

Rain whispered outside, a thousand strings. A draft slid through the window gap like a thin knife, scoring her skin with cold.

“Tss, so cold.”

Hedi curled on the chair, hugging her legs like gathering her own warmth. She pressed her cheek to her knees, a small moon on a dark hill.

She couldn’t fathom the guard’s thinking. Sure, she’d asked to stay, but parking her in a freezer with no blankets felt rude, like shutting a door in someone’s face.

Still, if they couldn’t provide—

She slid her gaze to the cot, eyes a lit wick. She lifted a finger and wrote the spell in the air like tracing frost.

At the last swirl, a small flame gathered on her fingertip, a firefly in cupped hands. She flicked, and the cot caught like dry straw.

Smoke billowed, thick as ink, licking the walls and ceiling like a slow, dark tide.

Hedi dragged the chair closer, scraping wood on concrete like a low saw. The fire grew and painted the room in warm amber, a hearth in a ruin.

Firelight reddened her pale profile, carving her features into smooth arcs like a sculptor’s thumb.

In the end, the minimum we ask of the world is warmth, she thought, a truth like bread.

She let out a soft breath. The smoke didn’t touch her throat or lungs, a veil the magic kept at bay like rain off oiled silk.

The guard kicked the door open, iron on wood, and he didn’t have barrier magic. He stood there coughing, rattled like a rusty hinge.

“Cough, cough—what happened?” His voice was a broom on rough floor.

“Keeping warm,” Hedi said, gaze cool as a well. “Basic survival in the wild.”

“This isn’t the wild, this is—a room!” His protest bounced like a pebble off a wall.

“Strange. If it’s a room, it’s missing parts,” Hedi said, head tilted like a puzzled sparrow. “No bedding. No bed.”

“Childish,” he muttered, smoke stinging his eyes like nettles. “I told you when you came in, it’s filthy and messy.”

“So calling it the wild isn’t wrong,” she answered, the line neat as a stitch.

He stepped back from the door, trying to dodge the smoke like a man side-stepping bees.

Hedi slipped off her shoes, toes numb and curled like pale shrimp. She perched on the chair, a squat, and rocked slow as a pendulum.

“Right,” she said suddenly, as if a string tugged a bell. “I’m a Professor of Magic. My Dark Realm research is entry-level.”

“You’re saying you can’t shut the Dark Realm?” His hope flickered like a flimsy candle.

“Don’t expect too much,” she said, the words a thin blanket.

She watched him quietly, reading his face and body like tide lines. She smoothed her hair, masking the urge to leave like a smile masks a sigh.

He reacted as she expected, a mix of doubt and trust, swaying like grass in a light wind.

“Fair,” he said. “Magic and Dark Realm studies are different fields. But you can still help.”

“Help who?” Her voice was a cool bead.

“Put out the fire first,” he said, squinting through the smoke like through reeds. “This isn’t the place for introductions.”

“Now that you mention it, I still don’t know your name,” Hedi said. She opened her hand, and the fire chewing the boards rushed into her palm like a stream into a basin.

It spun into a globe of light, a small sun in her grasp.

“Names like mine don’t matter,” the guard said. “Hers does.”

Hedi turned, and behind him stood a petite woman. Her bangs hung heavy and black, wet-looking, hiding her brows like a curtain.

That made her eyes and nose stand out, clean and handsome as ink-drawn lines.

“Hello,” she said, voice clear as a bell. “I’m Selina.”

“Ah, I—”

“Professor Hedi Melvina, right?” Selina’s words landed soft as breath on glass.

Hedi looked at the guard. “You want me to lend her a hand?”

“Mm. She’s the Empire’s Dark Realm Investigator assigned to Shattered City.” His tone put a seal on it like wax.

Real... or fake... The thought fluttered like moth wings.

No Investigator for six months, and one walks in just as I do— The timing clanged like a bell.

What excuse gets me out now? I can’t play the fields-are-worlds-apart line. Even if I can’t, a professional stands ready like a net.

Then again, I could observe the Dark Realm with her. That means dealing with the living dead, faces like masks in rain.

Hedi tapped her temple, knuckles a small drum. Endings were serious business to her, even with strangers, like tying a knot you’d never undo.

She always pictured how a goodbye would land, a stone dropped in someone else’s pond.

So she needed grace. A reason with a ribbon. A proper exit.

“Of course it’s a prestigious professor,” Selina said, eyes on Hedi, her voice thin as a mosquito’s whine. “I just want to get away from this woman, and away from those residents scarred to the bone.”