They lazed in a sticky tangle on the couch, honey-warm and breathless, then headed to rinse the sweat from their skin like dust after summer rain.

The moment warm water began to run and steam curled up like silk, Selina slipped into the bathroom, restless as a cat. She wrapped naked Hedi in her arms and breathed in the orange scent braided through her gray-white hair, a slice of winter sun.

“You’re a bonfire.”

“I didn’t say we’re lighting that fuse.”

“Just a hug?”

“You still want more?”

“I never said… mm…” Heat bloomed across Hedi’s face like a shy dawn, and a rare feeling settled over her like a shawl. “That’s enough.” She pinned Selina’s restless hand, calming the thrum in her chest before a spark could turn wildfire.

A knock cut the steam, a pebble in a pond.

“Report!” The courier brayed through the door, as if giving a briefing to a superior. “I’m with the company, here to execute a delivery task. Please receive your package!”

“Leave it at the door.”

Hedi raised her voice, her words bouncing off tile like little bells, and shooed Selina to fetch it.

“Mmm~”

“Don’t act cute.”

“Just one more moment.”

“Tch.”

“F-fine, I’m going!”

Hedi turned the valve again. Hot water cascaded like a small waterfall. The rectangular tub drank it in; rings of ripples wandered out like tree rings growing.

She eased into the warm water as if stepping into a lake at dusk. Heat swallowed her until only her head and shoulders floated like two islands. Warmth rose from deep in her skin and pushed out the fatigue like fog; trouble and pressure melted into the clear water like salt.

“There’s a document in the package,” Selina called from the door, voice a ribbon. “Feels feather-light.”

“Open it.”

“Mm… mana accumulation effects, latent thresholds, unprotected vulnerability, dimensional boundaries, the link between pain stimulus and erosion, and stabilization experiments for the Dark Realm… that kind of stuff.”

“Read it.”

“So lazy.”

“A bath helps me think, like steam lifting the lid off a kettle.”

Selina cleared her throat and read in order:

“There’s no directly perceivable mana field inside the Dark Realm, but the Dark Realm is, in essence, a region made solid by overconcentrated mana. That gathering seeps deeper than touch and works on those who enter. The longer someone stays and the deeper they roam, the more the accumulated mana soaks in like ink into paper, and the Dark Realm Erosion grows.”

Hedi rested against the tub’s edge; cool porcelain pressed her back like moonlit stone. Hot and cold braided together like hands, and her mind loosened like a knotted cord finally sliding free.

“Next, the latent threshold. In the Dark Realm, every individual faces a tipping point. After enough time inside, or upon entering certain zones, even without sensing mana, erosion spikes. Excess mana piles up like water behind a dam and reacts with mental force. When the line is crossed, the dam gives.”

“Threshold?” Hedi cut in. “So the Dark Realm piles up in your head, and only when it hits a key point does it start chewing through you?”

“Yeah. It also says the erosion works by consuming, disrupting, and reshaping a person’s mental force, like moths worrying cloth, and eventually harms the body, psyche, and even the soul.”

“Can you strip it out?”

“It’s anchored in the spirit. Normal methods can’t scrub that stain, especially once it sets deep like dye in bone.”

“So we try something unconventional?”

“It lists several brain surgeries. Everyone died—the write-ups feel like cold steel under a storm lamp, and they make me sick.”

“You can skip those.” Hedi skimmed her fingers across the surface, sending out fine ripples like fish scales. “So the institute still hasn’t found a cure for Dark Realm Erosion.”

“The deputy director wants to study you, probably because of that—moth to a lantern.”

“Keep going.”

“Because there’s no magic in there that normal tools can detect or defend against, Investigators entering the Dark Realm need special crystals. Without them, the monsters attack like wolves scenting blood, and the erosion bites harder.”

“Monsters make it worse?”

“That’s what it says, in neat little ink lines.”

“Mm… continue.”

“When a human enters the Dark Realm, the mind interacts with it and binds to a degree. Even after leaving, the mind carries a hot brand. Back in reality, it still smolders like smoke that clings to clothes—hallucinations, dreams, memory tangles.”

“You once said the Dark Realm gnaws the brain, replays a slice of the past, then eats the soul from inside that memory like termites in wood.”

“You woke from your coma saying you had a nightmare, like surfacing from deep water.”

“With the brain-warding magic… did it make me dream loud enough to wake, like a bell in fog?”

“Can you recall it?”

Hedi shook her head, then remembered Selina couldn’t see it. “I can’t.”

“We could ask the witch for help?”

“I don’t want her rummaging through my head like hands in a thorny nest, but we can try.”

“I’ll protect you! I’ll stand like a shield.”

“If Orlina tries anything, I’ll pound her like a drum.”

Selina paused. “I meant I’d grab you and run like wind through grass.”

“Don’t be such a coward.”

“We’d definitely lose—eggs against a stone!”

Hedi lingered in the warmth until it thinned like sunset. Reluctantly, she rose from the water. Her skin glowed a healthy pink from the soak, and fine beads slid along her curves like dew, each drop catching the light like glass.

She took a soft towel and chased the water away, from long neck to rounded shoulders, down an elegant spine, along slender hands and feet, until her skin was dry as fresh paper. She called for Selina to pass in a loose, breathable robe.

Hedi tied the silk sash at her waist and drifted out of the bathroom like a slow cloud.

“We still haven’t covered the link between pain stimuli and erosion, or the Dark Realm stabilization experiments.”

“Forget that for now. Do you want a bath?”

“Going in now… not a good idea.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

Selina spoke with ritual solemnity, as if before a shrine. “It’s the first time you’ve bathed in front of me. My heart won’t survive that thunder.”

“It’s just sticky sweat—don’t hug me. You’re drenched like after a downpour.”

“Mmm~”

“If you want a hug, go shower.”

“Fine, a shower it is. Wait for me!”

Hedi settled on the couch and read, pages turning like leaves.

At some point, the rush of water from the bathroom went silent. Only thought remained, a soft white noise like rain against a far window.