Even though the company of the Sages of Ages was cheerful and friendly, Noah never quite felt like one of them. He couldn’t fully explain why. Were they too cheerful? Suspiciously friendly? Was the gap in knowledge and secrets simply too wide? Or maybe it was because he was a guest in a guild he didn’t yet want to get involved with.

  Who knew.

  In the end, Ronan volunteered to walk Noah to the exit, gift and all.

  “I hope they didn’t scare you too much,” he said as the elevator began descending. “I know our group is a bit odd, and the title doesn’t help, but today you met the strangest members. The ones who rarely go home. We spend so much time here that sometimes we forget to check the calendar.”

  “It’s fine,” Noah shook his head. “Ever since I died, I’ve been surrounded by weirdos.”

  “There are plenty of normal ones too,” Ronan laughed. “But most are busy with their nostalgias. You must’ve noticed if you visited your neighbors. Hardly anyone opens the door, right?”

  The remark sounded a little cryptic, but Noah had already latched onto another thought.

  “I’ve noticed that the corridors in the buildings are much longer than they should be. Do you know what kind of trick that is?”

  “Oh, that…” Ronan paused to think. “The Architects’ Guild could explain it far better. I’ll put it this way—stop thinking of the environment around you as real or material. There are no atoms in the Flow. Everything you see is information. Like a stabilized dream. And dreams…” he smiled faintly, “can be surprisingly flexible. Sometimes they don’t obey logic at all.”

  The elevator stopped. Ronan stepped into the lobby, guiding Noah toward the teleportation booths.

  “The continent of Regia, including its defensive perimeter, is a top-tier dream,” Ronan continued. “Built from information recovered from the remnants of the old gods. But those remnants weren’t enough to create everything else. Now we draw resources from the Dream Sphere—from that one percent of test participants. Even so, it’s not enough for mega-cities to exist here. That’s why all those skyscrapers you see outside are just empty, colorful shells.”

  “The moment you cross a building’s threshold,” Ronan went on, “you enter a lower-level dream—a dream that describes the interior. Unlike the rigidly fixed fa?ades, these dreams don’t occupy any real space. They can exist anywhere. Maybe they’re stacked on shelves in some hidden library, all connected in such a way that we still believe we’re moving through a continuous world resembling the old one. But as I said, Regia isn’t material. It’s like a layered dream-cake, where each layer can have its own layers. And the deeper you go, the fewer resources it demands from the Dream Sphere.”

  “So that’s how they save resources?”

  “Oh yes. Every drop. By the way, don’t be surprised if the box disappears once you unpack it,” Ronan nodded at the gift in Noah’s hands. “No one in Regia would waste resources on cardboard boxes. It’s just a low-level illusion.”

  Noah nodded, a strange, heavy feeling growing in his chest. It reminded him of standing beside the abyss with an empty bucket in his hands, watching the last remnants of glowing water spill into the darkness.

  He had never managed to fill that abyss to the top.

  And now he felt as though he were standing beside another one—this time disguised as a city.

  A dream within a dream?..

  He still wanted to believe that Venice and Avarenta contained real buildings, expanded from inside by some unknown technology. That he wasn’t lying somewhere on a shelf, dreaming about a visit to the Sages of Ages.

  Because honestly—what kind of crazy reality was this?

  * * *

  Back in the apartment building on Irony Avenue, Noah half-expected a call from Everest. When none came, he began to wonder whether he should call first and report his return. Everest hadn’t required it—but maybe he’d forgotten to mention it?

  Just in case, Noah typed a short message and sent it to This Magnificent Agent.

  The reply came quickly:

  This Magnificent Agent: “OK. Now brush your teeth and go to bed. :-P”

  Noah sighed. What was he supposed to do in bed when he wasn’t even tired?

  But a bathroom with an actual bathtub would be nice…

  The phone vibrated again:

  This Magnificent Agent: “Just kidding.”

  This Magnificent Agent: “You don’t need to report returns. Only departures.”

  This Magnificent Agent: “I see you didn’t screw anything up or kill anyone. Good boy.”

  This Magnificent Agent: “Keep it up!”

  This Magnificent Agent: “Good night!”

  Noah stared in horror as the messages kept pouring in. Either Everest was using some trick Noah didn’t know about, or he genuinely typed at an inhuman speed.

  When the flood finally stopped, Noah silently vowed to message Everest as rarely as possible. Or probably never. Anyone incapable of fitting their thoughts into a single message was a sadist, and Noah wanted nothing to do with them.

  When the phone suddenly rang, Noah flinched and nearly threw it across the room.

  But it wasn’t Everest. It was Beata.

  “You home?” she asked bluntly.

  “Yes. Now I’m home.”

  The silence stretched for a full three seconds. Noah suddenly sensed that the mood on the other end wasn’t optimistic at all.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Now? Did you meet any of your neighbors?”

  “No. I went to another city. By invitation,” Noah tried to be brief, but still ended up telling her about the Sages of Ages and their role in his test. She listened in silence, which only deepened his unease.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m bored,” she complained. “I didn’t find a single neighbor. And the couple I ran into were apparently expecting important guests and didn’t have time. Then I tried online forums, but there, too, hardly anyone. Like everyone crawled into their caves and went into hibernation. Or abandoned the city altogether.”

  “Hm,” Noah murmured. “Are you home?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Stay there. I’m coming over.”

  She didn’t hang up right away this time. Apparently, she really was lonely.

  Back in his apartment, Noah first unpacked the Sages’ gift.

  It was a tablet PC.

  Exactly like the one he’d used during the Dream Sphere test. For a moment, he even suspected it might be the same device, with the same registered user—NoahKickedTheBucket. But once he turned it on, he realized it was brand new. Like the phone, it attempted to register itself to Noah’s image. After a moment’s hesitation, he agreed. A FIC agent was already monitoring his phone—one more group of curious onlookers probably wouldn’t make much difference. Besides, Noah had no intention of searching for porn—he no longer felt any urge to.

  Then again, his curiosity hadn’t gone anywhere.

  Did porn even exist in Regia? And if it did—what was it like?

  A study for another time.

  He watched with interest as the tablet’s discarded packaging first became transparent and then vanished without a trace. The tablet itself disappeared from his hands as he mentally sent it to one of the empty shelves. Convenient.

  He wondered if he could coax another tablet out of the Sages—for Beata.

  * * *

  Balancing four green cans in one hand, Noah tapped the doorbell icon on his phone. He heard distant chimes—and Beata’s voice calling him in. He pressed the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge.

  Realizing the problem, Beata soon opened it herself and eyed the drinks suspiciously.

  “I figured we’d try them together and see what the deal is,” Noah explained.

  “Mine haven’t been touched either,” Beata nodded. “I thought they were just decorative.”

  “Nope. There’s definitely something inside,” Noah shook one can. “And I remember Everest drinking something from a mug. But I don’t remember any smell.”

  He glanced around the familiar space. Beata’s apartment was identical to his—even the same number of cushions on the sofa. If all this was just a dream, Noah was experiencing a strong sense of déjà vu.

  “So… come in. Make yourself at home,” Beata gestured awkwardly. She dropped onto the sofa and hugged one of the cushions. “I don’t have a kettle, so no coffee or pastries.”

  The TV was playing a muted movie that Noah recognized despite having seen it only once, more than eight years ago. The Princess Diaries.

  He sat down too, handing Beata one of the cans. He examined his own, looking for information about its contents or why the dead would drink it at all. But the label was sparse. The guild’s name and the drink’s title, followed by a caption:

  Natsu Lagoon

  July 20, 2018. A dreamy afternoon.

  Noah hummed softly at the odd title. It was more suited to a photograph than a can filled with some mysterious liquid.

  “So you made friends,” Beata sighed heavily, staring at the TV as if it were showing the dullest thing in the world. “In just one day.”

  “Mhm,” Noah nodded, clearly hearing the bitterness in her voice. “More like—they found me. Because of what I did during the Sphere test.”

  “Oh. Great. So you don’t even have to try. They just find you. Convenient,” she muttered.

  “They’re much older than both of us,” Noah said, trying to soften things. “Maybe even older than us combined.”

  He wasn’t sure how that was supposed to help. Or whether words would help at all. Beata was simply in a bad mood.

  “So your friends aren’t total kids. Got it…” She cracked open her can.

  “Do you want a hug?” Noah offered.

  “What?” Beata stared at him like at some worm. “N-no… I’ll manage.”

  He nodded, suppressing a smile. She already looked far more alive than she had a moment ago.

  “I just… don’t know…” she sighed, glancing at him sideways. “Maybe I expected too much. I thought I’d knock on a door and that woman with the French surname would open it smiling—something like that. But no doors opened. Not even a crack. Not near my apartment. Not anywhere. The whole building is silent as a grave. And the longer it goes on, the more it starts to feel like one. And then I start thinking—what if it’s always going to be like this?

  “And then those two birds show up—Marek and Kamilla. I get excited. Hooray, not a grave after all. There are living people here. But it’s just like hello-hello. We’re this and that. Nice to meet you, but we’re in a hurry. Sorry. Maybe next time...

  And I’m alone again. In a dead silence. Even though Marek and Kamilla just went back to their apartment. They’re right there, behind a couple of walls. Not a single sound, like they’re truly dead... I sit in front of the TV, checking forums, all drained. Hoping to hear at least some tiny noise in the building. But nothing. Absolutely nothing. And online? The same thing. Every forum thread is at least a week old. A short reply here and there… like they’re not used to the internet. Or they’re using sites I don’t know about yet. Which, obviously, I don’t know yet!”

  Irritated, Beata took a sip.

  And froze.

  She stared into nothingness, completely still. Not even the slightest twitch.

  “Beata?” Noah called cautiously.

  No response. She was holding the can just centimeters from her lips, like a three-dimensional picture where not a single hair moved.

  “Shit…” Noah muttered.

  He set his own drink down and grabbed his phone, ready to call Alicia and find out what was going on. Who knew—maybe Beata would crumble at the slightest touch?

  But she inhaled and came back to life before he could even find the number.

  “You okay?” Noah asked anxiously.

  Beata looked at the can in her hand and blinked a few times.

  “Whoa…” she said finally. “That was… interesting.”

  “What was?”

  She was about to take another sip, then hesitated and handed the drink to Noah.

  “Try it yourself. You’ll see something you’ve never seen.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  “Take it. Take it!” she insisted. “Don’t be a kid. Either try it, or I’ll drink it all myself!”

  He took it.

  No one would give several cans of poison to newcomers. Probably...

  Noah took a sip.

  And suddenly he was sitting by the sea, his feet immersed in pleasantly warm, foaming water. Seagulls cried overhead, and light cumulus clouds drifted across the sky.

  He lifted his head from the rock and looked around. A rocky shore stretched across the entire bay, framing vividly green waters. Through the waves, he could see colorful fish and even the bay’s bottom. No other people. Just him, and the breathtakingly calm coastline.

  Noah relaxed and lay back on the rock, intending to nap for a bit.

  “So?” Beata asked, shattering the illusion.

  “I get it now…” Noah murmured, handing the drink back to her. “I get why Everest said he was going out for a cup of music and hugs.”