The flicker of a candle—
The flickers of many.
The hum of a wordless voice—
The drone of a chorus…
Broken by a sharp scream of pain.
Enza snapped awake.
A wooden door was in front of her face.
Through the slits in the wood, she could see Athalia clutching her head in pain and stumbling down the center aisle of the cathedral. Blood was filling the gaps between her fingers. This sight immediately wiped away the rest of Enza's sleepiness.
"Athalia!"
She slammed open the door of the confessional and ran out into the aisle.
The congregation hadn't moved an inch since the Explorers originally arrived. Not a single member was reacting to the commotion, either.
And likewise, the Explorers continued to ignore them. Even as Athalia stumbled around screaming in agony, she avoided meeting their eyes.
Enza took on a grim expression when she got closer and saw the full extent of the damage. The spike had driven a gaping hole into Athalia's head.
We took too long… Wait, how the hell is she not dead?
Countless thoughts ran through Enza's mind in a matter of seconds as she formulated a plan.
I can't use the flytrap again. Even though it felt like I was gone for so long in the dream, barely any time has passed in reality. The flytrap had a cool-down period. Not only that, but I can only use it one more time on the expedition. We need to save that use for the return journey.
"Athalia, can you hear me? I need you to stop moving so I can treat you. Can you do that for me?"
There was no coherent response, only the continued wails of agony as Athalia stumbled around, crashing from pew to pew.
Let's see… I can't put her under anesthesia. The painkillers are still in her system; the risk of respiratory depression would be too high… I need a different way to make her stop moving.
I could try holding her down physically, but in her disoriented state, she might try to kill me. Also, there would be a high risk of causing her further injury.
Ah, I know what to do. It's been a while since I got a chance to use this.
She reached into her armor and pulled out a small flashlight.
It was modern-looking. It was matte black with a textured button at the base, and a hexagonal array of bulbs.
She covered her eyes and pressed the button twice with her free hand.
For a fraction of a second, the room was filled with a blinding and inescapable light. It was like a miniature sun; far more powerful than a handheld flashlight should be.
The congregation didn't even flinch when the light flashed, but Athalia instantly stopped moving and making noise. She began to fall backward…
Enza stood right behind her and caught her back. It looked like they had been doing a trust fall exercise.
She examined Athalia's wound up close. The spike had driven a hole large enough to expose her brain, but somehow hadn't pierced it. Enza desperately wanted to look away. A mess of sinew, flesh, and black matter…
Hold on…
Black?
Enza's eyes widened in shock.
The lines of Athalia's brain were clearly visible through the hole…
And that squishy brain was pitch black.
Enza nearly dropped Athalia in surprise. "What the hell?"
Her heart sank as she remembered the surgery the flytrap had performed on Athalia. The black gooey adhesive had disappeared…
Enza forced it out of her mind. Her brain absorbed it, and now it's invincible to physical damage? This is insane. I can't think about this and work at the same time… I need to forget about it for now and save her…
She reached into her suit of organic armor and fished out a red handkerchief.
She flicked her wrist hard. The handkerchief magically enlarged into a blanket. She threw it on the floor, then lay Athalia on top.
She snapped off a piece of bone from her armor. As she squinted at the hole in Athalia's head, she broke off smaller pieces until she had estimated the right size. She reached down and pushed the piece of bone over Athalia's exposed brain. It squished into place like a puzzle piece.
She grabbed a handful of dirt from the floor and sprinkled it over the new bone. She then added a small handful of seeds from her armor.
She paused. An expression appeared on her face like she was trying to recall something.
Where's it gonna be… Top left?
She shoved her hand into a more fleshy part of her armor. She reached around, feeling for something specific.
She tore out a large chunk of bloody flesh. One side had a layer of skin with hair follicles. With her other hand, she took out a pair of scissors. She eyeballed the size of Athalia's wound and trimmed the edges of the flesh. She pushed it into place over the bone with a squelch.
Her blood should be enough to water the seeds—head wounds bleed a lot. Because the spike technically didn't destroy any organs, the operation should be possible without the flytrap…
Seconds later, sprouts burst from between the seams of the wound and tightly stitched the chunk of flesh onto Athalia's head. The hair follicles immediately began growing. The new hair was the same color as the rest of Athalia's hair.
Enza sighed with relief. She checked Athalia's pulse and breathing; they were relatively normal. She took a seat on the floor beside her and finally had a moment to process.
I just can't believe she's alive. An injury like that should be a death sentence.
And the issue of her brain turning black… I don't know what to make of it. Is that adhesive we use for the blindfolds toxic somehow? I'm not sure what it's made of, but it's never harmed anyone before. Why would her brain absorb it like that?
Is it going to affect her personality?
Maybe it already has… if I assume her brain has been infected since the snow globe…
No, she was definitely acting like Athalia inside the confessional booth. But there's no saying that will last, or that she'll be the same after this surgery.
Enza was startled as a loud groan escaped Athalia's throat.
"You woke up fast."
"It hurts…"
"I'm sorry, I can't give you any painkillers. But the wound is healed, so it should just be a residual headache."
Athalia sat up groggily. She stared at the blanket beneath her.
"What's going on? Isn't this the blanket for emergency surgeries? Don't tell me… What did you do to me this time?"
"The spike in the confessional drove into your skull. It should have gone right through your brain, but it somehow wasn't harmed. I replaced the missing bone and flesh."
Athalia felt a large ring of stitches on top of her head. To her surprise, all the hair she lost had grown back.
"What do you mean, my brain wasn't harmed? That's not possible. I can almost fit my whole hand between the stitches. Are you sure you're telling me the truth about what happened?"
Enza was unsure whether she should tell Athalia that her brain had turned black.
No, I shouldn't. We're about to enter the third stratum; I can't cloud her mind with any additional worries.
"The whole truth, and nothing but."
Athalia frowned. "I guess it doesn't matter right now. I should just be grateful… Thank you."
Enza smirked. "How much do you remember of the dream?"
"I remember every word you said, but I'm still going to thank you."
There was an awkward pause.
"…Are you ready?"
Athalia managed to smile.
"What do you say we enjoy some music?"
They walked to the right side of the church with their eyes locked on the ground. The congregation parted for them, revealing a metal door with a crank handle.
Enza reached for the handle and began to crank it. Athalia stood next to her, fists clenched and eyes shut. They could both feel the eyes of the congregation peering down from over craned necks.
With a final click, the seal on the door was broken. A wave of light, color, music, and voices rushed in.
All the congregation members covered their ears. Athalia and Enza rushed outside; the door slammed shut behind them.
The Explorers blinked hard as their eyes struggled to adjust. A surreal sight lay before them…
A small village with a brilliant festival taking place.
A village where everything was inverted.
On either side of a central road, the signs of merchant stalls scraped the ground as the legs of the stalls stuck into the air. Beyond them, houses were balanced on the points of their roofs. Neither Athalia nor Enza could see how far those rows of houses extended. The festival-goers stood upright, but walked backwards from stall to stall. To view the upside-down prices, they would set down whatever they were carrying and perform a headstand or handstand. Their speech was entirely garbled and unintelligible.
Everyone was buying the same thing from the stalls.
More accurately, there was only one thing to buy.
Holiday presents—pre-wrapped with shiny paper and bows on top. Each stall sold a specific color of present in varying sizes. Instead of handing over money, each customer had to make the stall owner laugh. In each line, the person at the front was putting on some sort of act. The tones of their acts were different, catering to the specific sense of humor of that stall owner. The size of the present they received depended on how loud the laugh was.
Children played tag and other games, sprinting backwards without being able to see where they were headed. Somehow, they twisted and weaved through the adults without hitting anyone.
Surprisingly, what stood out the most wasn't how everything was backwards.
It was the colors. Every available surface was a neon hue. Clothing, the paint on the houses, the decorations on the stalls, even the ground itself—all of it was blasted with saturation. It was too intensely colorful to be found artistic or pleasing in any way.
Enza thought it was similar to sound.
Both sound and color are just frequencies at the end of the day. There's no emotion to their underlying forces.
When we perceive them within our comfortable range, we find them beautiful.
But those frequencies have no regard for the existence of humans. A single loud noise can shatter the eardrum or even someone's entire body. Enza started to feel grateful for not having any more color cones than she already did. This was already too much.
Her eyes focused on a banner hung high over the scene…
Hymylä Celebration Festival
At that moment, the two Explorers standing at the door of the cathedral were noticed. Everyone stopped moving. The kids who had been running and playing were frozen still, staring intently at the visitors. The musicians were utterly silent…
The crowd suddenly broke into joyful cheers. Their language was perfectly understandable English this time.
"It's the Explorers!"
The cheering was almost frantic. The music resumed at fever pitch, and a wave of villagers rushed towards Athalia and Enza.
"Stay back," Athalia shouted. "Part the way. I'll slaughter all of you if anyone tries to touch either of us."
The crowd laughed as they obeyed. "Ooh, scary…"
All the children began chanting together.
"Explorers, Explorers! Look behind you! Hymylä is right behind you! All you have to do is turn and look!"
Enza laughed. "You think either of us would break rule number one? The dangers of the third stratum have been drilled into our minds. No looking at whatever lies behind the church."
The Explorers continued walking straight ahead until they were standing under the banner.
After briefly confirming with Enza, Athalia shouted to the crowd. "We're ready for the game to begin."
The crowd laughed heartily. "We aren't running the game this time around. There's been a guest appearance!"
The sound of a flute pierced the air, cutting off the musicians. It was entirely out of tune and sounded more like a shriek than a musical note. The crowd went silent, as did the two Explorers.
A man walked out from the shadow of a house; a flute pressed to his lips.
His age was hard to place. He could have been in his early twenties or early thirties. He stood at the same height as Enza, just an inch taller than Athalia. He had sandy hair and stormy eyes. In contrast to the neon clothing everyone else wore, he had on a simple light blue tunic and gray slacks. His black dress shoes were caked with dust.
His right hand was tucked in his pocket as he grinned brightly at the two of them. "Hi, you two! What took you so long to come visit your old teacher?"
Athalia and Enza's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Their bodies began to tremble violently.
Azarias…