Ernesto Mela sat in the dark hookup room. The space was pitch black, so complete that nothing could be seen at all, not even the outline of his own hands in front of his face.

It was something he had done in his free time since the day he entered the walls, and where most of his gold cards went. The air felt thick and warm, carrying the faint scent of clean linen and something floral from whoever had been in here before him.

"Hey," he said, voice low.

"Hey," a female voice answered from somewhere across the small room. Soft. A little hesitant. Neither of them could see the other. That was the point. A full conversation with a stranger, faces unknown, no judgment, no expectations.

"Mind if I feel your hands?" Ernesto asked.

"Sure."

Their hands found each other in the dark, fingers brushing tentatively before settling together. Hers were soft, warm, a little smaller than his.

"Your hands are soft," he said.

"Really?"

"My name’s Ernesto. Ernesto Mela. My close friends call me Nesto." The words came out a little rushed, like he was still getting used to saying them out loud.

"Nice name. I’ve never heard a Mela before."

"Yeah. I grew up outside the walls."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And you?"

"My name’s Venna."

"I don’t think you only have one name."

"Venna Belmonte." She paused. "Sorry to ask, but how old are you? You sound young."

"Nineteen," Ernesto said, then caught himself. "Okay, eighteen. Seventeen. Does it matter? We’re not here for that. We’re two people who wanted a conversation with a stranger."

"Right."

"Thank you." His voice came back to life, warmer now. "I’m an ability user, actually. You?"

"I’m a girl with no friends. I’m not an ability user. I’m something else entirely. Something greater—"

Her coms watch lit up, a small blue glow cutting through the darkness for a moment.

"Don’t answer it," Ernesto said, not wanting the connection to break. "Please."

"It’s my uncle. I have to." She answered.

"Sweetheart, where are you?" Edgar Belmonte’s voice came through, composed but with something tight underneath it.

"I’m around."

"I need you home."

"Now?"

"Please." The line beeped off.

"I have to go," Venna said. "Don’t leave for five minutes. You know the rules of the room." She stood and felt her way out, the door opening with a soft click and letting in a sliver of hallway light before closing again.

Ernesto stayed seated in the dark after she left. "That actually went well," he said to himself, a small smile forming in the blackness. He hadn’t expected the conversation to land the way it had. Most days in this room were forgettable. This one wasn’t.

"She’s probably leaving the building by now." He sat with the thought for a second. "I want to see her face."

He stood and opened a portal in the air with a slow, practiced motion of his fingers. The shimmering gateway tore open, revealing a glimpse of the street outside. He dropped through it and came out into the bright afternoon sunshine, the sudden light making him squint.

Across the way, Venna was stepping out of the building. Her blue hair was cropped neatly at the shoulders, framing her face in soft waves. She wore a black skirt above the knee and a designer coat that moved elegantly with her steps, paired with polished black boots. She looked composed, almost regal, as she walked toward a waiting car.

He watched her get in, the smile still lingering on his face.

"Becky’s going to love this," he said quietly, and opened another portal.

***

Ernesto landed in the hospital room with a soft shimmer of blue light from the collapsing portal.

"What the f—" Becky shouted, bolting upright in the bed.

She was breathing hard, chest rising and falling rapidly under the thin hospital gown. Ernesto caught it immediately. Those weren’t words Becky used, and she’d never once been startled by him coming through a portal.

"Sorry if I scared you," he said, walking toward the bed, boots quiet on the tile floor.

"No, it’s fine." She settled back against the headboard, smoothing the sheet over her lap. "I just need to rest."

"Yeah." He didn’t back off. "You’re going to love this."

"Please." She seemed to want him gone, eyes flicking toward the door. "Just leave."

"Okay." He set a hand on the edge of the bed, leaning in. "You remember the Vayne girl Sherry replaced?"

Becky looked at him, and it was clear she wasn’t sure about the topic. Ernesto held her eyes. Something was wrong. The eyes weren’t Becky’s.

"Yeah," she said.

"What do you remember about her?" he asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Just leave. I’m tired."

"Who am I?" Ernesto asked, catching that she hadn’t said his name once. "You don’t know me. Do you?"

"Please. I need to rest."

He pulled the sheet back from her feet in one swift motion, and that confirmed it. "Who are you? What did you do to Becky?" He drew a small knife from his coat, the blade catching the overhead light with a cold flash.

The woman breathed hard and shifted under the sheets. Her form began to melt away — skin rippling, hair receding, body shrinking — until a naked bald girl, maybe twenty, lay trembling on the bed, eyes wide with fear.

"I’m just a shapeshifter," she said, voice shaking. "Please don’t hurt me, I didn’t do anything to her—"

"Shut up." Ernesto cut her off, knife steady in his hand. "Where’s Becky?"

"She’s out there. They paid me to stand in—"

"Damn it." Ernesto had never suspected Becky of running her own operation inside the walls. This was proof.

He moved his hands to open a portal, fingers tracing the familiar pattern in the air. The door opened while he was still working it, and Max Donman stepped in.

Max’s eyes went to Ernesto, then to the naked shapeshifter on the bed. Ernesto saw it at once — Max wasn’t surprised. He knew. The portal finished forming behind him, shimmering blue edges rippling in the sterile light.

"Nesto," Max said, voice calm as he came closer.

Ernesto paused, knife still in hand, watching Max’s every step.

"What’s going on, Max?"

"Let me explain everything." Max kept closing the distance, eyes locked on Ernesto, who was poised to jump. "Just relax."

Max’s hand crossed Ernesto’s throat in one swift motion. Blood sprayed hot on the floor. Before Ernesto could react, a hard kick sent him stumbling backward through the open portal. The gateway swallowed him whole, collapsing shut with a faint shimmer behind him.

The girl on the bed watched it all, breathing hard, eyes wide with terror. Max turned to her as the last traces of the portal faded.

"I’m sorry," she said, shaking, pulling the sheet up to cover herself. "Please don’t hurt me."

"You have no idea how long we’ve waited for this. I told you not to talk to anyone if they came, and you couldn’t manage even that."

"Please—"

"You don’t know how much I loved that boy. But this is how serious the mission is."

"Please. Please."

"Don’t be stupid, Ingrid." Max eased off, voice softening just a fraction.

They both caught their breath in the quiet room, the only sound the steady beep of the machines.

"Becky must never know about this," Max said, straightening his jacket. "Understood?"

Ingrid nodded quickly, still trembling under the sheet.