6

Just like last time, the scenery shifted suddenly as the three girls stepped into the centre of the storage room, hands clasped. Dora wasn't even sure she could bring others with her—just a hunch, given her clothes had come through last time. Seconds in, heat prickled across her brow, and bullets of sweat began to form.

“What the fuck?!” Jennifer’s voice sliced through the air. Could this dumb cow not be happy for one minute?

Dora rolled her eyes as Jennifer stomped over, clearly trying to grab her collar. Unfortunately for her, Dora was wrapped in two winter jackets. Jennifer scowled and sunk her fists in defeat. “You said we were heading to a frozen hell. This is Neverland!”

While Jennifer fumed, Dora rolled around on the ground like a turtle, wrestling to get the dark blue winter jacket off. “So, genius, explain why Emma’s still sick, dying in a hospital? Even a loser like you should be able to clear this level! Or, uh, whatever nerds like you call it.”

“Jennifer, calm down; it must be a misunderstanding,” Natalya chimed in, her voice steady and calm—such a contrast to Jennifer’s constant barking.

“Oh, really?” Jennifer’s voice dripped sarcasm. “I mean, look around. Do you even see a snowflake? This place is lush, not cold. It’s the lushest place I’ve ever seen.” She paused. “And—*great,* glittering butterflies. This is so dumb.”

Jennifer finally dropped into an exasperated silence as Dora managed to wriggle out of the extra jacket, tossing it aside. Natalya bent down, folding it with a sigh, and Dora’s eyes widened as the older girl’s marine-blue shirt sagged, revealing…well, enough to make Dora’s eyes nearly pop out of her head.

Oh, mama, Dora thought. This girl’s heart must be big enough for everyone on the planet.

With some effort, she managed to focus again, wiping the sweat from her brow and reaching up to reluctantly take Jennifer’s hand, helping her get on her feet. The delinquent was also down to a varsity jacket that hugged her athletic frame, the kind Dora figured a track star might wear. The scent of something bittersweet drifted toward her as Jennifer unfolded a tissue to wipe her own face before just tossing it into the grass. Dora couldn’t help but watch, and a little trail of drool escaped as she admired Jennifer’s lean, toned arms.

A sudden flick to the forehead snapped her out of it. She winced as Jennifer looked at her with a face that could only be described as disgusted, then turned away, barely holding back a gag.

“Was that reaction really necessary?” Dora muttered, rubbing her forehead.

Finally, she took a moment to look herself over, realising she was back in her old brown fur jacket from the bunker, though now without sleeves. They must have torn off during her wild escape with Harriet from the rampaging Ratatoskr-Flower hybrid. A pang of unease hit her as she remembered the monstrous creature. She scanned the surroundings, but there was no trace of it—no vibrations, no rustling in the ground. It was eerily still.

As Dora strolled around, taking in the strange new world, she noticed the other two girls wandering off in a different direction.

“Hey, wait! It’s dangerous. You can’t just walk off like this!”

Jennifer turned, exasperation clear in her voice. “Listen, squirt—”

“Wait.” Natalya raised a hand, stopping Jennifer mid-rant. “I’m sorry, Dora, but Jennifer’s right in some ways. This place does seem harmless, and we don’t have time to waste. Every minute here means Emma has even less chance back there.”

Dora’s face twisted in frustration. “Wrong! You don’t know anything about this world! I’m the one who made it back alive, so I should be the leader here!”

“You, a leader?” Jennifer scoffed, letting out a mocking laugh. “What are you good at besides being a punching bag?”

“Jennifer, enough!” Natalya cut in.

“Just saying.” Jennifer shrugged, rolling her eyes.

Dora clenched her fist and muttered, “One minute in the real world is about six minutes here…”

“What was that?”

“Forget it.”

The two turned, dismissing her as they hastened their pace. Dora followed reluctantly, irritation simmering. Just a few minutes later, a startled squeal escaped her.

Jennifer spun around. “What is it now?!”

“W-w-what is this thing?” Dora stammered, staring as a hideous creature landed on her nose. Jennifer glanced over, clearly unimpressed.

“Relax, it’s just one of those stupid glittery butterflies,” Jennifer muttered.

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This, however, looked nothing like a butterfly. The creature was large, about the size of her two hands. Its wings were twisted and uneven, its body a pitch-black mass with a blank, staring face. When Jennifer swatted at it in annoyance, it jerkily flitted away, orbiting Dora’s head in disturbing, clumsy circles, like it was barely alive.

Dora swallowed, feeling sick. She sank to her knees as the creature circled, its rotten smell seeping into her nostrils—a sick mix of sulphur and decay.

“Oh, no. Don’t you dare vomit on me,” Jennifer said, her eyes widening in disgust.

As the nausea ebbed, Dora felt Natalya’s warm hand on her back. If she hadn’t been so horrified, she might have taken comfort in it. But then, through her blurred vision, Dora noticed a puddle on the ground, her reflection wavering in it—and the hideous creature reflected back. It looked almost like a butterfly, flickering between something beautiful and something sick, diseased. The longer she stared, the worse it became.

“It’s just a butterfly. What got into you?” Jennifer asked impatiently. “Come on, Natalya, we’ve got to move before she starts playing more of her little tricks.”

Natalya held up a hand. “Something’s wrong. Dora, what is it?”

Dora pushed herself up, swallowing hard. “You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

She started forward, unsteady. Jennifer huffed, brushing past her with a shove to the shoulder. Natalya shot Jennifer a warning look, then turned back to Dora with a quiet nod of encouragement.

They can’t see it, Dora realised with a pang. They see glitter and I see rot. It was the same as with Emma’s vines, the ones that only she had seen. If she couldn’t find a way to make them believe her, how could any of them hope to survive this place?

Dora groaned, feeling pain prickling through every inch of her body as fatigue weighed her down. Sweat slid down her forehead, and the wetness combined with a sulfuric stench radiating from her skin twisted her stomach in knots. As the three girls trudged onward—Dora trailing behind Jennifer and Natalya—they were forced to stop frequently to let her catch her breath. Each pause prompted a fresh rant from Jennifer, who snapped that Dora was obviously faking it, just trying to slow them down, just trying to let Emma die, and that maybe they should just leave her behind like the “child” she was.

Dora must have looked perfectly normal to them; they couldn’t see what she saw when she checked herself in the broken makeup compact Harriet had dropped last time they were here. The reflection had chilled her. The person staring back looked haggard and hollow, skin pale and almost sagging, like she had aged decades overnight. Taking a sharp breath, Dora forced herself up from the rock she’d been resting on and trudged forward to keep pace.

Ahead, Jennifer and Natalya had agreed to head toward the massive object that appeared in the distance, something they described as a towering tree. To Dora, though, it was no tree—it looked more like the ruin of some immense stone pillar, its form obscured by clouds and mist, giving it an eerie, broken grandeur. It loomed before them like a silent watchtower, reminding her that nothing in this world was as it seemed.

With each step across the grassy plain, Dora felt a hard thud underfoot, almost as if the ground were more rock than earth.

“Hey, umm… does the ground feel any different to you guys?”

“What the hell are you talking about, runt?” Jennifer rolled her eyes, barely pausing to stomp her foot into the ground as if to prove her point, then carried on without another thought.

Dora’s feet ached, each step a reminder of how far they still had to go to reach the looming tree—or ruin. Whatever it was, they’d somehow decided it was their new goal. *Humans are so stupid,* Dora thought, stifling a laugh. No sense of direction, no purpose—just their reptile brains latching onto the biggest, strangest object around. It figured.

Along the way, they kept crossing paths with more of those unsettling insects. They still looked cute and harmless enough to Jennifer and Natalya, but Dora’s skin crawled just at the sight of them. To her, they were “Momos”—mouldy moths, wings ragged and twisted, with a stench of rot that seemed out of place in the clean air around them. It made no sense.

*What did moths eat again?* Dora racked her brain. Nectar, she thought—at least, that’s how it worked in her world. But there wasn’t a single flower or plant here besides endless grass. Nothing to nourish these creatures, and yet… they reeked of decay, like they fed off dead matter. *But there was no dead matter anywhere. None at all.*

Anxiety crept through her, prickling along her skin like the touch of the sickly insects flitting around them. She shuffled her feet, glancing over her shoulder, her stomach twisting. Something wasn’t right.

Dora had lost track of time. Trudging toward their looming goal felt like an endless, mechanical process. The strange, pale sun above them faded, and the world around them darkened. Unlike the sun she knew, this one didn’t burn her eyes if she looked right at it, but it was unnerving; staring at it felt like something burrowed into her head, like an insect drilling straight into her brain. She shuddered, forcing herself to look away.

“We should make camp, eat something, and call it a day,” Natalya suggested, sitting down with a “pomf” and placing her bag in the grass. She pulled out the winter clothes they’d packed and arranged them like sleeping bags—a small touch, but Dora couldn’t help but admire her resourcefulness. Horse girl really was a genius.

“Hey, catch!” Jennifer tossed a water bottle her way, and Dora caught it, taking a deep gulp before the taste hit her. Her eyes welled up with tears; the water tasted rotten, like sulphur. Still, she forced it down and sat beside Natalya, trying to shake off the nausea.

She glanced over at Natalya—and gasped. Under her horse mask, Natalya’s skin was ghostly pale, and vomit trickled down her chin. “N-Natalya, what is that?” Dora asked, horrified.

Natalya looked at her hands, wiping away the sick and chuckling. “Must’ve been a long day. Sweaty, you know?” She laughed, but Dora felt a chill. Sweat?! Couldn’t she tell what was happening?

“Hey, can I get a bite?” Jennifer asked, her face gleaming with an oily sheen, vomit oozing from the corners of her mouth. Dora recoiled as the sulfuric stench filled the air, far from the oddly sweet, spicy scent Jennifer usually had. “What’s wrong with you two?” she cried. “Can’t you see this isn’t normal?” Dora couldn’t care less if Jennifer died per se. But taking away the scrumptious smell of her sweat was a declaration of war against humanity and unacceptable.

The thought of food turned Dora’s stomach, but she reached for one of the sandwiches anyway. Please taste okay, she prayed. One bite and her face twisted as the same bitter, rotten taste filled her mouth. Even this, she thought, eyes filling with tears. Food was one of her few remaining pleasures, and now that was ruined too. She forced herself to swallow, too defeated to risk the wrath of either girl—especially Natalya. Just a word of disapproval from her would shatter Dora completely.

Natalya, sensing her distress, placed a comforting hand on Dora’s back. “Hey, are you alright? Tell me what’s wrong; we’ll figure it out together.”

“It’s just... I want to go home. This is a nightmare, and I can’t wake up,” Dora sniffed, trying to hold back tears.

Natalya gently wrapped her arm around Dora, resting the girl’s head on her shoulder. “It’s alright. You’re not alone, okay?”

“Mommy…” Dora whispered, voice barely a breath. Crack. She froze, but it wasn’t a normal danger—no wild animal, no immediate threat. She let herself relax, the last of her defences breaking as her tears began to fall freely, staining Natalya’s shirt.

Gradually, light started to fill the darkness around them. Millions of fireflies flickered to life, casting their surroundings in a surreal glow and somehow lifting the sickness from all three of them. Dora gazed up at Natalya, seeing her as if for the first time. Her hair shimmered, and her skin reflected the light like a pearl. Like a goddess, Dora thought, feeling her cheeks warm.

Feeling safe, she took another bite of the sandwich, savouring the taste. It was delicious again. She and Natalya watched the fireflies, her tears finally drying as she drifted off, her cheek warm against the red-haired girl’s shoulder.