Time to focus on what really mattered: getting home. The dream country I longed to visit was called Sleep, and I was ready for a one-way trip. That was the only kind of action I wanted now.
I had barely stepped through the door and hung up my jacket when an angry-looking Antwan appeared in the dining room.
- I’m listening.
Sigh. So much for sleep.
Technically, I didn’t need it. I could go days without rest. But even I had limits. And I’d burned through a truckload of ectoplasm tonight. I was toast.
MOMMY’S TIRED.
So I told the whole story again—for the second time today—even though Antwan had already watched the footage. I filled in the strigoi parts I’d deleted from the official record.
Now he was storming through the hall, arms flailing, brain on fire. The house might’ve been quiet, but my mind was in full chaos mode:
- This is it! The Breakthrough! Just like we thought, like we knew!
- Correction: you I still say this so-called Breakthrough is just tabloid BS. The creatures stay behind the Wall. When they do show up, it’s in small packs. No big armies.
- Exactly! Key word: What if it’s already too late? They’ve got a real Dark Lord now!
I clicked my tongue and shook my head:
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
- Oh great. Now you’re seeing revolutionary monster messiahs. No, Antwan. We’re just dealing with a skilled energy manipulator who may have temporarily coordinated a few beasts. Nothing more.
- We still need You need to go to Ilania. Now. She’s the only one who’ll know what’s really happening.-
I groaned. Another one. Everyone kept shoving me toward that loony old woman.
- Pack up. Grab a couple flasks for the road.
Antwan practically levitated with excitement. His eyes went so wide, they could’ve made anime characters jealous.
- Auntie Ali, - he said it in full sincerity, calling me auntie for the first time in his life – -you’re taking me with you?! But you always said it was too
dangerous! And why do I need flasks? You think we’ll get attacked there too?
- So many questions! She won’t harm I guarantee it. And the flasks... just in case. You never know. – I said vaguely.
- Where are we going? Is it far? – Antwan was already geared up like a soldier and practically vibrating with readiness.
- You could say it’s right under your
We stepped into our blooming, gorgeous garden. I took a deep breath of the sharp floral scents and ran my fingers gently across the honeysuckle and orchids. Then, without warning, I pressed those same fingers onto Antwan’s wide-eyed face.
When I pulled them away from his sky-blue eyes, he still saw the garden— same shapes, same stuff. But the colors? Gone. Totally nuked. All that was left was a washed-out grayscale palette. The sky above us just stared down like some bored god, and it was impossible to tell if it was day or night.
Antwan was staring at me in stunned silence, and in his eyes, I saw my reflection—like one of those creepy black-and-white cartoon characters from the last century.
- What is this? Where are we?
- You are at your You are at my home. My home is at your home.
- Sang a strange, melodic voice, like it belonged to some forest nymph high on mushrooms and incense. Antwan flinched and whipped around.
Standing near our gazebo was something that might’ve walked straight out of a bedtime story—or a fever dream. But only halfway.
From one side, it was a cute freckled girl with fluffy blonde curls and narrow shoulders, rocking a floaty summer dress and flip-flops. Very… nice.
But take two steps to the left… and bam. Granny mode.