Catty looked through the peephole and saw a young woman in black sunglasses. She was dazzlingly beautiful. If Anya Taylor-Joy lived in Eterna, she would be her double.

Perhaps the author must devote a few lines to describe her appearance. A woman was wearing a gorgeous mini dress crafted from shimmer-infused fabric. The stylish neckline opened one shoulder, and beautiful rosette detailing was on the other. The feather-trimmed hem added a playful silhouette. Black knee-high boot heels were on her feet. She held a silver wallet bag on a chain in her hands. Her outfit was complemented by teardrop earrings with yellow topaz and a vintage necklace.

The woman tossed a wave of blond hair impatiently, waiting for an answer.

Catty unlocked the door, cautiously pulling it open an inch. Outside, the woman slid her sunglasses down and looked at Catty over the top of the frames, waiting. In the time it took for Catty to blink, the woman's eyes had given her entire outfit a once-over as though she were checking off a list.

"Good afternoon," the woman said, her voice smooth and practiced, like someone who expected an audience with every word. She paused, almost as if leaving room for applause. "Would you happen to be Catty?"

The sheer authority in her tone caught Catty off guard. "Yes, I'm Catty. Can I… help you?"

The woman removed her sunglasses with elegance, which made Catty suddenly conscious of her clumsiness.

"You may call me Serafima," she said, her hand extending confidently.

Catty accepted it out of instinct, feeling the cool grip of a person who was apparently unbothered by the question of whether she should be here.

"Nice to, uh, meet you?"

A faint smile appeared at the corner of Serafima's mouth as though she found the question amusing. She looked past Catty, her gaze sweeping the cramped entryway and landing briefly on the walls, the floor, and finally, the doorway itself as if taking stock of everything all at once.

"This place… still holds the same charm," Serafima said, lifting one brow. "Cozy, even." Her tone left room for other interpretations, though she didn't seem inclined to offer them.

Catty crossed her arms, thrown off by the stranger's thoroughness and familiarity with the place.

"So… are you here for a reason? I don't usually get visitors," the girl said.

"Unusual times, then," Serafima hung her silver bag on her elbow with a delicate motion, her face unreadable. "But perhaps we could discuss this… indoors?"

Catty hesitated. There was something in Serafima's voice—a suggestion, maybe, or a challenge—but before she could respond, the woman's gaze softened just enough to feel inviting, if not entirely safe.

Catty stepped back to let Serafima inside. As the woman brushed past her, a faint scent—something floral, expensive, and almost timeless—lingered in the air. Serafima moved with an assured grace, the quiet click of her heels sharp against the worn wood floor, as if they'd rehearsed this scene before.

Catty closed the door, watching Serafima pause in the center of the living room, taking in the surroundings with an appraising look. Her gaze drifted from the cluttered bookshelves to the stack of empty tea mugs on the table, then up to the old beams crisscrossing the ceiling. She smiled faintly, just a flicker of something that could have been nostalgia as if seeing the place again.

"Ah," she murmured, almost to herself, "some things never change."

The words caught Catty off guard. "You've… been here before, then?"

"In a sense," Serafima replied smoothly, tilting her head just enough for her earrings to catch the light. She didn't elaborate, instead letting her gaze fall to the worn rug beneath her feet, tapping the tip of her boot thoughtfully.

The silence stretched a few moments longer as Serafima walked around the room with the ease of someone reacquainting herself with an old friend while Catty stood nearby, awkwardly aware of every cluttered corner and dusty shelf. It was as if Serafima were the true inhabitant here and returned to a place that recognized her.

Catty cleared her throat, unsure if she felt reassured after Serafima's almost possessive familiarity with the room. "So, uh… you seem pretty comfortable here."

Serafima's smile softened. "Rutger always did have his… unique approach to housekeeping," she replied, her tone light yet distant, as though she were speaking of an era long past.

"So, you knew Rutger?"

Serafima lingered near the bookshelf. She brushed a finger across the spine of a worn, leather-bound book perched on the edge of the shelf.

"I suppose you could say that," the woman replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "He had a way of collecting people—eccentric types, if you will."

Her eyes sparkled with a touch of mischief as she glanced at Catty. "Though I can't imagine you'd know anything about that."

Catty gave a short smile, uncertain if she'd just been insulted or invited into some inside joke. "Well, he sort of… took me in, too. Though I'm not sure 'collecting' is the right word."

Serafima laughed softly, "Ah, but Rutger saw potential in the most unlikely places," she said, an air of mystery lingering in her tone. "He could turn a fallen leaf into a magical charm and a passing crow into a confidant, with nothing more than a sparkle of spellfire and a dash of charm."

Catty tried to picture Rutger—the Rutger she knew—attempting either of those transformations, but the thought left her somewhere between amusement and skepticism.

"I never thought of him as… capable of things like that."

Serafima's smile grew, "Almost. But if you knew him as well as I did, you'd see that he had his flaws, too. He was… how shall I put this?"

She paused as though savoring the thought, her eyes distant for just a moment. "Stubborn as stone and just as immovable when he set his mind on something."

Catty nodded, feeling sadness. That did sound like Rutger. "Yeah. He wasn't exactly flexible. But he always meant well, I think."

"Meaning well," Serafima murmured, almost to herself, as if the phrase had struck a chord. She nodded slowly, her gaze slipping back to the cluttered room. "Yes. I suppose that's one way to describe him."

A brief silence settled between them, filled only by the ticking of an old clock somewhere in the room. Catty felt a strange pull as if Serafima were casting a spell with words, making Rutger's absence feel closer and more distant in the same breath.

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Catty cleared her throat, cutting through the silence. "So… why are you here, Serafima?"

Before Serafima could respond, a fast, insistent thud of claws echoed from the hallway. The dragon appeared, brashly jumping out from around the corner, his eyes fixed on the unfamiliar visitor. His scales rippled from pale pink to a shade of crimson, a sure sign he was unsettled. The moment he caught sight of Serafima, he froze, muscles tensed, and a low, uncertain hiss slipped through his small fangs.

A flash of panic crossed Catty's face. She instinctively stepped before him, her hand raised in a silent plea for the dragon to stay put.

"Oh—uh, don't mind him," the girl weakly smiled, hoping her body would block most of Serafima's view. "Just… an overly curious pet, that's all." She forced a nervous laugh, glancing at the dragon with a look that could only mean one thing: Stay back. Please.

The dragon, however, was undeterred. He edged closer to Catty, his wings spread, and his gaze fiercely focused on Serafima. A wary hiss escaped him, and the dragon crouched protectively at Catty's side.

Serafima's lips curved into a smile as she watched the little dragon's display, clearly amused but careful not to make any sudden gestures. The woman inclined her head, studying him with a glint of curiosity.

"Interesting... pet. He seems rather spirited," she remarked. "Though I'm not sure he finds me very trustworthy."

Catty felt her cheeks heat, and she scrambled for something to say. "Yeah, well, he's not used to visitors," she muttered, trying to keep her voice steady. She reached down, her fingers grazing his scales to signal him to calm down quietly, but his eyes never left Serafima.

The woman inclined her head slightly, regarding him with a curious, almost approving glint in her eye. "A protective one, too. I suppose he has good instincts."

The dragon responded with another soft hiss, his tail twitching as if broadcasting his mistrust. Serafima raised an eyebrow, giving him a nod as though acknowledging a worthy opponent.

Catty's forced smile faded, replaced by a wary glance at Serafima. "Right. So… back to why you're here?" she prompted, desperate to steer the conversation away from the dragon.

Serafima's smile softened, her gaze flickering briefly between Catty and her "pet."

"Of course," she said smoothly, meeting Catty's eyes with an amused glint. "Though it seems he's quite keen on keeping watch. No matter—we all have our roles to play, don't we?"

Catty sighed, gently patting the dragon's head to calm him, but his gaze stayed sharp and unwavering. "Well, he doesn't usually meet people like you," she admitted, unsure if she was reassuring herself or the dragon.

"Not many do," Serafima said, meeting Catty's eyes. "Shall we begin our conversation, then? It seems we may have a… vigilant audience."

Catty crossed her arms, still guarded. "So… you're here to warn me about something? Just a… friendly neighborhood heads-up?"

Serafima's gaze lingered on the girl. Her expression was calm and assessing, as though she were weighing her words carefully.

"Something like that," the woman replied. She adjusted her bag before adding, "I noticed something unusual on your house—a mark. And it's unsettling, to say the least."

Catty's brow furrowed, confusion mixing with a faint unease. "A mark? I didn't see anything like that. What kind of mark?"

"Not everyone can see it. The mark that appeared on your house is a message. It means, among other things, that you've returned from your journey… with a pet." Her gaze shifted briefly to the dragon.

"A message? So… someone's watching me?" She shook her head with disbelief. "Who would care enough to keep tabs on me?"

Serafima's expression hardened. "That mark belongs to the Multiverse Gatekeeper. It means you're now under observation—someone, or something, is watching. And not all eyes are friendly."

Catty felt a chill run down her spine, though she forced herself to keep her expression steady. "I didn't see any mark," she repeated.

"The mark isn't for everyone to see. And it's enough to worry me. When I gave my word to Rutger... Actually, before he died, Rutger asked me to look after you when you returned. Which brings me here today."

Catty's mouth opened in a protest, though she found herself with little to say. Serafima gave a quiet nod toward the dragon.

"There's more at stake than you realize," she continued. "This place, for one. And your… pet. He can't live here when he grows up. His presence is like a beacon, drawing attention. And with the mark on your door, well..." she trailed off, leaving the implications unspoken.

Catty swallowed, glancing down at the dragon, who pressed close to her leg. "So what are you saying? That we're not safe here?"

Serafima tilted her head, giving Catty an almost encouraging look. "I'm saying that it would be wise to consider ways to secure this place… and to make plans for the dragon's future. He'll need guidance. He'll need room to grow." She paused, a faint smile playing on her lips. "And perhaps, so will you."

"Looks like we're in deep!" Catty took a breath, trying to absorb everything Serafima was telling her.

Serafima's expression softened as though she understood exactly what Catty was feeling. "The mark often appears in places where worlds meet. This means that Rutger left a way to hide the house from observers."

"Observers?" Catty echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. The thought of people—or beings—watching them felt heavier now.

"Let's find out what Rutger has in store," Serafima smiled.

She folded her palms with the air of a mentor as if she'd explained this sort of thing far too many times before.

"According to Rutger," she began, eyeing Catty with an indulgent look, "there should be… a lever or a gear somewhere in the house."

Catty blinked, looking around like the magic lever or gear was an ordinary household item.

"A lever? Or a gear? What for?" She raised an eyebrow. "Is this house secretly a grandpa's music box or something?"

"In a way, yes," Serafima replied, entirely unperturbed. "Rutger always had a fondness for the mechanical. It's rather his style, you see, to tuck reality-shifting mechanisms into… inconvenient places."

She sighed, gazing around the room as though the magic lever might appear under her scrutiny alone. "So let's start looking, shall we?"

And with that, they began their search, the two of them poking, prodding, and prying through every odd corner the house had to offer.

Catty started with the bookshelf, convinced a dusty old tome might suddenly be a toggle. She gingerly pulled at the spine of a book titled The Clockmaker's Delight, which seemed far too promising to be a coincidence. But it switched nothing.

Meanwhile, Serafima lifted a series of framed portraits on the walls as if expecting one of them to point out a secret latch conspiratorially.

"Nothing here," she muttered, turning to the wall a picture of a solemn-looking ancestor who might have disapproved of the whole endeavor.

Sensing the excitement, the dragon darted underfoot and contributed by nudging open a cabinet or two, apparently assuming he was in on the secret. He sniffed suspiciously at the fireplace and peered inside as though the answer might be hidden among the embers.

"Oh, naturally," Catty grumbled as she kneeled to inspect the bathroom cabinet, muttering to herself. "Who doesn't keep a magic lever somewhere near the ultra thin overnight pads?"

Serafima gently tapped the floorboards with her boot as though they might yelp and confess.

"Rutger did mention it would be somewhere… unconventional," she stood back, frowning thoughtfully at the staircase as though it had personally offended her. "Perhaps it's disguised as an utterly ordinary object. You know, something you'd never suspect. A… cushion, maybe?"

Catty gave her a skeptical look. "Rutger disguised a house-hiding lever as a cushion?"

"I wouldn't put it past him," Serafima replied, her lips twitching into a faint smile. "But no, that would be far too banal for him."

Even the wallpaper seemed involved in their search. It shifted subtly in color each time they passed by, from soft greens to vibrant gold, until Catty was convinced it was watching them with silent amusement.

They had tried the mahogany wall clock, but when Serafima tugged the pendulum, hoping to uncover some hidden lever, it began to play an eerie tune that filled the house during their search.

"Stayin' Alive?! Oh, my word!" Serafima stopped, her face stretching in astonishment.

After an hour's worth of prodding suspicious floorboards, testing lamp switches, and tapping their knuckles on random pieces of furniture, they reconvened in the living room at a large round table.

"Well," Catty said, flopping into a chair, "unless Rutger made the lever invisible, I'd say we've officially failed."

Serafima sighed, settling into the seat across from her. "It seems the house isn't quite ready to yield its secrets."

Her fingers tapped the table. "But if I know Rutger, he'd have made it so deceptively simple we'd miss it entirely."

At that moment, the dragon jumped on the table, and Catty jerked, trying to catch him. She leaned all her weight on the table, and it shifted around its axis—ever so slightly.

They saw the landscape outside the window transfer as though the external world was a revolving stage and a mighty hand had nudged it. Half the view remained the familiar Eterna's street with its old trees and houses. In contrast, the other half revealed an iridescent lake beneath a green sky, with enormous mushrooms along the shore.

The girl and the woman froze, exchanging glances. Catty turned the table back, and the normal view outside the window returned to its place.

"I think we've finally found this stupid lever."