Elias felt it before it happened.

The pressure in the room shifted...like the air had been sucked out for a second and then rushed back in. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

The warmth from the noodles on the nightstand faded first, then the light around the window went flat, gray, like someone had turned the color off.

He looked up sharply.

Sera was mid-bite, her hand pausing halfway to her mouth, and her eyes distant and intent on nothing.

Luci’s head lifted from his paws, hackles rising without a sound.

A soundless snap cracked through the air, and everything that wasn’t alive seemed to hold its breath.

The pot on the washstand rattled once, the surface trembling in a way that wasn’t quite vibration.

Then the latch at the door shifted.

Click. Click.

Like little fingers testing to see if it would hold.

No one spoke.

The sound of silence was louder than breath.

Zubair was already standing, his hand steady on the grip of his pistol.

Lachlan’s usual quip died before it reached his tongue.

And Alexei, near the corner, lowered his weapon into his lap and watched the door like a man watching an old enemy rise from the grave.

Elias swallowed once, the taste of iron faint on his tongue.

"Pressure inversion," he murmured out of habit—his brain reaching for data, explanation, safety in science.

But there wasn’t a word for this.

The air felt... aware... alive.

The latch moved again.

Then there was a knock.

It wasn’t a normal knock, the three rapid knocks. Instead, it felt too deliberate. Too soft.

"Please..."

A child’s voice seeped through the wooden door.

Tiny, trembling, and all too real.

"Please let me in. It’s scary at night. The monsters are going to get me. Please, I’m begging you. I’ll be a good girl. You won’t even notice that I am there. Please. Please. Don’t let them hurt me."

Lachlan’s breath hissed out between his teeth. "Shit," he grunted, sounding NOT at all like Lachlan.

Elias didn’t move. He just listened.

The voice came again, closer now, as if the speaker had pressed a cheek to the door. "It’s cold. I lost my mama. Please let me in. I can feel the monsters watching me."

Mae’s warning uncoiled like smoke in Elias’s head. Not for a child. Not for her. Not for us.

Sera, on the other hand, didn’t so much as flinch.

She put down her instant noodles on a side table, her expression unreadable. If Elias had to classify it, he would say that it was curious, almost wistful.

The creature inside her wasn’t stirring, but something about her stillness made Elias think of deep water. Still on the surface. Wild underneath.

Then the voice changed.

It grew older, richer—a woman’s sobbing plea. "Help me. They’re coming. Please. They are going to do awful things to me if you don’t save me. Please, save me."

But unlike the child, the cadence was wrong.

It was too clean. Like an actor hitting marks.

The hair on the back of Elias’s neck rose.

Alexei tilted his head. "It’s learning."

Sera hummed low in her throat, not in agreement or denial—just thought. "I wonder what ’it’ is," she murmured softly.

Before he could ask what that meant, the voice shifted again.

It became Mae.

"Open up," it said through the wood. "You have to come downstairs. It’s safer there."

Zubair’s hand didn’t leave his weapon. "No."

The voice sharpened. "That’s an order."

Only it wasn’t Mae anymore.

It was Zubair.

"Stand down," it barked in his own tone, clipped and calm. "I will not repeat myself."

Zubair froze.

Elias felt something heavy roll through the room—the instinctive pull of obedience, that primitive echo in every soldier’s bones that said to follow his leader.

He watched Zubair’s jaw flex, his knuckles go white.

Sera broke it with a single word. "No."

The air shifted again, just enough for Zubair to exhale.

Luci stood, tail stiff, the low rumble in his throat like distant thunder.

The mimicry didn’t stop.

It laughed once, and the laugh was Lachlan’s. "Come on, mate. Don’t make me beg. It’s bloody freezing out here."

Then it was Alexei’s voice—flat, unimpressed. "We’re wasting time."

Then Elias’s. "I think it’s safe. We should see what is going on. There should be a logical explanation for everything."

Each echo landed wrong, half a heartbeat off, like a bad recording.

Then, finally—

Sera’s voice.

Soft. Warm. The kind of tone she only used when she forgot she was being watched. "Please, let me in?"

Elias turned to her, but she was right there, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the door. The smile on her lips didn’t reach her eyes.

"That’s impressive," she murmured. "I wonder if anyone can learn to do that or if it is just special to them?"

Lachlan swore under his breath and pressed his palms against his thighs. "I hate this place."

Outside, the voice repeated itself, this time layered, harmonized—a chorus of Sera, Alexei, Mae, Zubair, Elias—all woven together into one sound that made the walls tremble.

"Let me in."

The windows rattled.

The bronze mirror on the dresser quivered.

The lamp flame flickered and stretched sideways.

Then came the sound.

A distant boom—then another. Gunfire, muffled but close enough to feel in their ribs.

Screams. Engines. Explosions.

It wasn’t outside anymore. It was around them.

The room vibrated with the noise, but the floor didn’t shake.

Lachlan half-rose, his gaze stuck on the closed curtains. "That’s war."

"Don’t," Zubair said without looking.

The sounds built—an entire battle, chaos made physical. Then, just as suddenly, it all stopped.

Silence.

A heartbeat.

Then... laughter.

Children laughing. A carnival tune wheezed through invisible speakers. Whistles. Calliope pipes.

Laughter that broke in half and kept going.

Alexei’s hand twitched toward the window. Zubair caught his wrist. "Not real," he said evenly.

"You don’t know that."

"I don’t need to."

Sera tilted her head, her hair sliding over her shoulder. "Mae wasn’t joking," she said softly. "About everyone here being insane."

Elias wanted to say something clinical—anything—but the words wouldn’t come. There was no formula for this kind of madness. No variable to plug into logic.

He found himself watching her instead.

Sera didn’t look afraid. She looked fascinated.

Like someone watching a storm she’d never seen before.

The light from the lantern drew gold across her face, making her look almost human, almost gentle, until she smiled—and it wasn’t gentle at all. It was sharp with wonder.

"I think it’s testing us," she said.

Zubair didn’t turn. "For what?"

"For which of us opens the door. For which of us is the weakest link."

Luci growled again, louder now, pacing between the door and the window. His claws clicked once on the floorboards. Elias could feel the animal’s unease like static.

Then, without warning, the sound outside changed one last time.

Footsteps.

Boots on wood.

Slow. Heavy. Purposeful.

The doorknob twisted. Once. Twice.

Zubair raised his pistol.

Alexei drew his knife.

Lachlan muttered a prayer he didn’t believe in.

Elias held his breath.

Sera stood. She moved closer to the door until she was almost toe to toe with Zubair.

The creature behind the wood exhaled.

The sound carried weight—heat and ash, like breath dragged through an old chimney. Then came the voice again, low and steady. The Sheriff’s.

"Open the door," it said. "Or I will tear it down."

No demand. No shout. Just certainty.

Like the world already knew what they’d do.

Sera’s lips curved. "Not tonight," she replied in a sing-song voice.

Something on the other side scraped against the wood—a fingernail or a claw. Then it was gone.

A long minute passed.

Then the bell rang.

It wasn’t the gentle toll of a church. It was a single, brutal peal that split the air and shook dust from the ceiling.

Elias covered his ears, but he still felt it in his teeth.

Luci howled once and fell silent.

When it stopped, everything stopped.

No footsteps.

No laughter.

No voices.

Just stillness, too deep to belong to life.

Elias turned his head slowly toward the mirror. The bronze was dull, but he could still see shapes—the five of them reflected back, shadows over shadow.

One of them moved a second too late.

He didn’t say which.