Hedi unfurled the parchment; blue ink ran like a cold stream, line after line of cautions.

Silence pooled around her. Her eyes swept left and right like twin searchlights. She chewed each sentence in her mind, slow as winter tea.

She rolled the sheet into a neat cylinder, slipped it into her pocket like a stowed flute, then lifted the axe and weighed it again, as if feeling a river stone.

Selina sat on the floor, quiet as snowfall, her gaze resting on Hedi like a lantern on a lone traveler.

Hedi stood straight as a pine. Light fell from the ceiling’s center like a white spear; the coat’s pleats were traced in it like carved ripples.

Her face, caught in thought, stilled like a lake, then swayed like reeds. Highlights picked out elegant cheekbones and eyes deep as wells; shadows softened her outline with a misted veil.

Hedi never felt Selina’s gaze. All her focus tunneled into the notch on the axe blade, a chipped moon she couldn’t place. If it bit hard matter, what hard matter?

Their clothes matched the Investigator’s, a shell against roaches. Yet a fully armed Investigator still had a nest inside him, like rot in a sealed fruit.

And that glance toward the depths of the passage—she’d told Selina it meant flight. But leaning on a wall and calling it intent felt hasty, like reading wind from dust.

“Tell me,” Hedi shook off the buzzing thoughts like rain, “what made this notch?”

“Smashing a crate?”

“It was there before.”

“The wall, then?”

Hedi eyed the bare walls, plain as bone. “What else is there?”

“Roaches?” Selina said, then shook her head. “Could it be the Investigators fighting each other?”

“Edge against edge will chip a blade. Infighting is edge against flesh.”

“That’s all I’ve got for now.”

“Are you sure you were running, saw a door, and ducked in?”

“Yeah.”

Hedi set her palm on the wall and rubbed, then knocked with a touch of force. She stepped back, stunned, as if the stone had breathed. “Run through grassland to find a passage. Run the passage to find a door. Then a hollow wall in a room—I’ve got a thought.”

“No. No way.” She bit her thumb like holding back a storm and paced the tight room. “If the notch came from chopping, why is this wall so smooth?”

“Let’s try it,” Selina said, voice like steady rain. “Thinking in here just winds you tighter.”

“I hate this. Standing dumb while the Dark Realm ferries us where it wants, like driftwood on its river!”

“Like you said, if we enter a hollow wall, we’ll meet roaches again. But not right at the start.”

A spark leapt in Hedi’s eyes. She wiped her thumb clean, as if clearing a lens. “Rebuild the scene. When did the roaches come?”

“When?”

“On the grassland, it was your crystal pendant. In the passage, it was the dead Investigator. All external triggers stirred the swarm. In other words, the Dark Realm wants to purge a contagion.”

“But the Investigator’s roaches came from inside him.”

“Because of our movements.” Hedi didn’t deny, she drove it home like a nail. “You twisting the crystal. Me taking off my goggles and cap. Then why didn’t coughing draw them out? If they hear noise, it should.”

“If that’s true, there isn’t a passage behind this hollow wall.”

“Exactly. That’s why the Investigator went armed to the teeth, deeper into the passage. He’d guessed motion wakes the roaches.”

“The ones inside him—”

“No idea.”

“If motion is the switch, then when we leave this room—”

“No idea.”

Selina’s mouth tilted, helpless as a petal folding at dusk.

Hedi sprawled on the carpet and wriggled like a beached fish, surrendering thought. “Don’t know. Don’t know anything—”

“You’re already brilliant.”

“Just an ordinary girl who quits when she stumbles.”

“Didn’t you say you’re the protagonist?”

“More like cannon-fodder side cast. Not even qualified to be a stepping stone here.”

Selina slid a hand under Hedi’s head and set it on her thigh, a warm lap like a small hearth. “If you’re agitated, sleep a bit.”

Hedi turned her head and kept tugging at questions with no rope to them.

There’s no room for tests now. If an experiment draws roaches—open the door or chop the wall, there’s nowhere to run. It’s like that outpost in the Shattered City, and also not.

“If we burn through our scrolls and my mental strength runs dry,” Hedi murmured, “leave me.”

“I won’t leave you.”

“I can’t promise we both get out. As things stand, I’ll probably keep dragging you down.”

“It’s fine. I can carry you ten more kilometers, easy.”

Hedi’s mood leveled, like ripples settling. “I hope I’m not adding weight to your heart.”

“You can lean on me. You don’t have to carry it alone.”

“I’ve been leaning on you since we entered the Dark Realm. It’s just—I don’t know how to say it. My head’s dark and messy, like a knotted forest.”

“Give me a direction, that’s all. I’ll run with you in my arms no matter what’s ahead. Even if it’s a flood of roaches, a cliff edge, thunder splitting the sky—I’ll follow your call. You might not see it, but I trust you, deeply. So please trust me. I have never thought of you as a burden.”

Hedi listened, and felt a touch as light as a feather settling on her crown. Selina’s fingers slid through her hair in slow currents. Each small motion played a silent melody, from roots to tips, then the soft skin behind her ear.

She moved like a musician, precise and tender, sketching Hedi’s outline with soundless notes.

“Where’d you learn that?”

“From my sister. When I sulked as a kid, she’d do this.” Selina smiled—gentle as dawn. “Feeling any better?”

“So-so.”

“There it is again.”

“What?”

“You often give foggy answers, and I have to guess the weather behind your words.”

“No one speaks plain all the time.”

“But right now, you could praise me instead of saying ‘so-so.’”

“Hmph. Ask again.”

Selina cleared her throat and used the voice you use for a child at nap time. “Don’t call yourself a burden. Try leaning on others. When you’re spent, ask for comfort.”

“I’m twenty-two.”

“People don’t really grow up. We wear reliable faces to show kids a path, so they decide to become that kind of adult.”

“And when they grow up, they see why we pretended.” Hedi curled small, pressing close to Selina like a cat to a warm wall. “We lose the joy of play, and grow old inside daily labor.”

“But right now, you look just like a kid.”

“I always… wanted to be one. I was ‘mature’ and didn’t play with my age-mates.”

“I’ve learned a little more about you.” Selina set a hand over Hedi’s eyes like a soft curtain. “Sleep. When you wake, we’ll think again.”