Hedi slowly sat up and stretched, like a cat basking in a patch of sun.

“You can grab a nap first,” Selina said, her voice like a warm quilt laid over cold stone.

“Forget it. I can’t sleep in here.” Hedi set her palm on Selina’s face, like a leaf settling on a still pond. She sighed. “You’re my safety.”

Selina cocked her head, gears turning like a sluggish typewriter, letters sticking and then clacking forward. “You mean me?”

“Don’t play dumb. Your smile already sold you out,” Hedi said, a spark glinting like dew at dawn.

“You used to say safety doesn’t come from magic. Naming me like that… kinda makes me happy,” Selina murmured, like a lantern warm behind paper.

Hedi’s fingers wandered over Selina’s cheek, circling like moths skimming lamplight. The motion grew awkward, searching for a proper answer like a path through reeds. She narrowed her eyes; her long lashes cast a soft shadow, brushstrokes veiling the currents inside her gaze.

“I just feel…” Her voice dropped like dusk pooling in a room. The extra words folded into the lift of her lips, a tide that could end clean, but keeping it hazy would breed needless guesses. “You make me calm.”

“Hic.”

Selina started hiccuping, her body twitching like a string plucked too hard. She tried to hold her breath, to cage the rhythm, but her diaphragm danced like a drum at a festival. The hiccups kept leaping out, short vowels popping like pebbles skipping a river.

“Haha.”

Hedi’s laugh spread like a cool mountain breeze, drifting through the room. It began as dust-small ripples inside, nudging the corners of her mouth. Then joy unfurled like sunlight breaking cloud, racing across her face.

“Hic… hic… hic…”

“Don’t tense up,” Hedi said, smoothing the air like a hand over ripples.

“Who told you… to say something… so serious,” Selina gasped, each word bobbing like corks on choppy water.

Hedi patted Selina’s back, steady as rain on tiles, easing the strain. She’d thought she’d have to search for a crack in the floor under Selina’s gaze. Instead, a timely rain of hiccups fell from the sky.

It hurt for Selina, but for me, I didn’t have to drag my legs out of the mud of embarrassment. That felt like stepping onto dry ground after a storm.

“How do you feel?” Hedi asked, voice soft as mist.

“M-much better,” Selina said, her breath settling like sand after a wave.

“Then shall we keep moving?”

“Have you decided?”

Hedi looked at the bite mark on her right thumb, teethprints like a pale crescent moon. “Open the door first. If there are cockroaches, we hide in the room. If not, we try to split the wall, so we can run out.”

“What if they show up at the same time?”

“We’ve got magic scrolls. It sounds odd, but I hope roaches show up. At least it would confirm our guess. The worst case is neither side reacts.”

“If neither does…” Selina thought, her brow shaping shadows like hills at dusk. “We can’t split up. We’ll have to pick one path. If we choose wrong, we’re in trouble.”

Hedi nodded and walked toward the narrow door, a seam so flush you’d miss it without the handle, like a line hidden in paper grain.

“Ready?”

“I trust you,” Selina said, her trust like a lantern held in wind.

“That’s a lot of pressure,” Hedi muttered, a rueful smile like a bent reed.

They fell silent together, a shallow pond under still skies.

Hedi took the magic scroll from her pocket, parchment crinkling like dry leaves. Her other hand reached for the handle, slow as a patient tide. She drew a deep breath, trying to steady the storm inside. Two lives balanced like sparrows on a branch. Her fingers trembled, then tightened, turning bit by bit like a rusty clock being wound.

The hinge hummed low, iron grinding like bees trapped in a jar, a drumroll before a secret.

As it turned, the crack widened, and the sight was black, ink pooling in a well.

Wider still, and still black, a night with no stars.

“Ha… looks like opening the door won’t trigger roaches.” Hedi let out a breath, the scroll crumpling like snow underfoot. “Next, we test the wall.”

Selina volunteered, gripping the axe, metal cold as moonlight. She waited for Hedi’s count.

“Three.”

Selina locked her gaze on the wall, a predator fixing on its mark, breath steady as a line.

“Two.”

She swallowed, then raised the axe, tracing a silver arc like a comet over dark sky.

“One!”

At the drop, Selina swung with all she had. The quiet blew apart, and the impact thundered like a drum split by a hammer.

Axe met wall, force against force, and her arms trembled like strings under a bow.

Hedi turned toward the darkness outside the door, eyes searching like lanterns on a pier. No scritching of roach feet rustled the air. She motioned for another strike.

Thud!

The axe buried deep, carving a clear crack, and the air filled with lime and dust, a chalky fog drifting like winter breath.

“Any roaches?” Selina asked, voice hushed as moss.

“No.” Hedi frowned, lines creasing like dried riverbeds. “Why nothing?”

“Professor!”

Hedi turned at Selina’s call. The wall had healed, smooth as water after a stone’s sink. She hurried over and checked—no scar, no memory.

“So the nick on the axe did come from the wall. But why no roaches? The action-trigger theory fails, or there’s a condition attached—” She swept her loose hair back, like reeds parted by a hand, and offered another guess. “The wall can’t be broken, so he went deeper down the passage?”

Selina watched Hedi’s serious face, patience like a still lake, waiting for the ripple.

“There must be reasons. If someone like us got driven in by a massive swarm, not returning is one reason. What else? The wall can’t be broken counts. What else?”

A spark lifted inside Hedi. She raised her face, arms spreading like wings catching wind.

How did I miss the key clue?!

Selina might not know, but I have to know!

When I checked if the Investigator was alive, he already had a reason to go deeper!

“Professor, you okay? You’re smiling so big it’s like a crescent moon gone wild,” Selina said, half-laugh, half-worry, like rain and sun together.

Hedi lunged into Selina’s arms, joy rushing like a river breaking its bank. “I know why the Investigator had to go in!”

Caught off guard, Selina steadied herself, then looked down at Hedi clinging tight, warmth like a hearth in winter.

“B-because what?”

“Wind!” Hedi said, eyes bright as stars. “When I examined the Investigator, I felt natural wind.”

Selina’s pupils tightened, surprise and clarity flashing like lightning, then settling like clear sky.

“So we can get out?!”

“No.” Hedi let go and shut the door again, wood closing like a lid on a box. “Now we wait.”

“Roaches?”

“Think this through. The roaches appear with a delay. If the Investigator found the wall couldn’t be broken and immediately headed deeper, then the swarm could drown him like a flood.”

“I see.” Selina paced slowly, footsteps soft as leaves. “I get why they were inside his body.”

“Only one thing. His leaning on the wall isn’t solved. A normal person seeing tens of thousands of roaches would run. He shouldn’t… lean there.”

“Maybe there’s no answer.”

“True. The world’s full of things. Not everything has an answer,” Hedi said, words drifting like fog across hills.

She pressed her ear to the door, cool wood against her skin like night water. She listened to test her guess.

Beyond, the passage lay under heavy silence, a blanket thick as snow. Beneath it, a faint, steady sound began to coil at her ear, like ants weaving a thread.

A chilling sound.

Countless tiny claws skittered over hard ground, a rain of pins on stone.

“Professor…” Selina whispered, fear rising like frost.

“Don’t worry. We’re safe. The roaches can’t possibly be so many—”

Then Hedi felt something strike the door—no, not strike. It pressed like a wave hitting a cliff.

Her heart surged, drums pounding in her chest.

The door bent inward under the outside force, wood groaning like an old tree in storm, the creak answering her own jinx like a crow calling at dusk.