Alexia sat slumped on the couch, a heavy blanket draped over her like a cocoon. The muffled sounds of the turrets firing outside were constant, an endless cycle of booming and cracking that rattled her nerves. She glared at the TV screen, flipping through channels, but nothing held her interest. Boredom and frustration clung to her like the blanket she refused to let go of.

"This is worse than prison," she muttered to herself. "At least prisoners get some peace and quiet."

A few days had passed since her failed attempt to seal the fiery pit. Every hour since, the turrets had been firing relentlessly—zombies during the day, and those damn undead ogres at night. It felt like an endless siege. The noise, the constant tension, the feeling of being trapped—it was driving her insane.

Alexia now stood in the center of her spotless living room, her arms crossed as she surveyed the space. Every piece of furniture had been rearranged twice, every corner meticulously cleaned. There was nothing left to do, and boredom crept in once again. She paced back and forth, trying to come up with something, anything, to occupy herself.

After a moment, she wandered into the garage, her eyes scanning the cluttered space. A smile tugged at her lips. “Great, I never actually cleaned the garage… only the car.” With newfound enthusiasm, she set to work.

She started by folding the boxes stacked haphazardly in the corner in front of her car, arranging them neatly by size. Then she turned her attention to a dusty cabinet filled with tools and miscellaneous household items—the same cabinet where she found the pink biker helmet. “Let’s see what else you’ve got in there,” she muttered with a smirk, wiping away the dust. She organized all the items inside the cabinet neatly. Then it was time to clean underneath it.

As she swept underneath the cabinet, the broom made a distinct thud against the concrete wall. But then, near the corner, something sounded different. The broom brushed against the wall, but the sound wasn’t the same dull thud of concrete. It sounded… hollow. Wooden, maybe.

Her brow furrowed in curiosity. “What the…? That’s weird! I am pretty sure I’ve scanned the entire house, I don’t remember seeing anything strange… here”

Alexia carefully slid the cabinet to the side, revealing a small door hidden behind it. The door was oddly out of place, about shoulder-height and relatively new, engraved with intricate old style motifs. Her pulse quickened.

“What are you hiding?” she whispered to herself.

Without hesitation, she tapped her ring finger, activating her X-ray vision. Her eyes scanned the space behind the door. What she saw made her heart skip a beat—there was a statue inside, surrounded by objects, as if it was being worshiped. “A shrine… ?” she muttered, stunned.

She deactivated her x-ray vision and crouched down, hands trembling slightly as she gripped the handle and pulled the small door open. The hinges creaked, and a strange smell hit her senses. Inside, just as her X-ray vision had shown, was a statue—a figure in a meditative pose.

The creature was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Its body was humanoid, but its face was elongated, with sharp features and eyes that seemed to stare into her very soul. Around it were small trinkets, offerings, perhaps—coins, candles, and strange symbols drawn on parchment.

Alexia stared at the statue, a mix of awe and confusion flooding her. “What the hell is this?” she whispered, her fingers brushing over the cold, stone surface of the creature’s face.

A sudden chill ran down her spine as she gazed into its lifeless eyes, her mind racing with questions. “Did Ryland worship this thing?”

Alexia rushed to the living room, heart pounding. She grabbed her tablet from the coffee table and immediately dialed Clayton. Her fingers were trembling, but she needed answers, now. The screen flickered, and Clayton’s face appeared, looking mildly concerned.

“Clayton, I’ve found something. You’ve got to see it!” Alexia blurted, breathless.

Clayton raised an eyebrow, his voice calm as ever. “Okay, okay, chill. Show me.”

Alexia quickly ran back to the garage, pointing her tablet camera at the small hidden shrine. The statue’s eerie presence filled the screen, its stone eyes locked in that meditative pose, as if watching them both.

“What is that?” Clayton asked, leaning closer to his screen.

“Does it look familiar to you?”, Alexia said.

“I don’t think so. This is the first time I’ve seen anything like it. But… Do you think this could be Ryland’s contribution? I mean, it’s super weird and creepy, why would someone in their right mind worship it? Unless they are a part of a cult”

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“That’s what I thought too,” Alexia said, pacing now. “Should we call the heroes? This might be directly tied to the invasion too. Ryland’s contribution might have been this... whatever this is… and that ‘contribution’ brought me here and maybe the giant pit could also be related, the timing of it all.. I mean, this statue could be the key.”

Clayton sighed, his face now grave.

“Yeah, you’re right. We probably should call them. But before we do that, let's think for a second, Alexia—if this statue is in fact connected to the invasion, the heroes might come for you. They’ll think you’re part of it. They’ll arrest you, maybe even worse. You know what happens to people involved in things like this… The Abyss.” He paused, voice tight with worry. “And if they send you there… it might be for life.”

Alexia stared at the floor, her mind suddenly racing. “But if we don’t tell them, people will keep dying… I can’t—”

“Hey, we’ll think of something, okay?” Clayton said, his tone soft but desperate. “We’ll find a better way to deal with this.”

Alexia stayed quiet, her eyes unfocused as she processed the weight of her decision. She could tell the heroes everything, clear her conscience and reveal the statue, but she couldn’t shake the possibility that they wouldn’t believe her—or worse, they would see her as part of the problem.

Then it hit her.

“Freya! Yes. Clayton, we should call her!” Alexia said, her voice rising with a glimmer of hope. “She already knows the truth about me, about everything. She’d understand.”

Clayton sighed. “That’s a brilliant idea, Alex, but...there’s a big ‘but’ there. Nobody knows how to contact her.”

The hope deflated as quickly as it had come. “Damn…” She looked away, her fingers nervously fidgeting. Silence hung between them.

Clayton reached out, trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry, Alex. I promise you, I’ll find something...some way to get you out of this.”

She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think...I’m just gonna call the heroes, Clayton.”

His eyes widened. “You can’t! Alex, if you do, it’ll be the end for you.”

She looked down, a weary resolve in her expression. “Maybe it’s about time for me, anyway.”

Clayton stared at her, his mouth opening to argue, but a new voice filled the room.

“Time for what?”

The voice was calm, almost bemused, coming from right behind her. Alexia jumped, her instincts kicking in as she spun and threw a punch at the source. Her fist shot forward with the speed and precision of a bullet train. But just before impact, her punch was halted in mid-air by an invisible force, shimmering faintly.

A man stood there, casually leaning against the forcefield he had conjured to catch her fist and absorbed the damage. He looked amused, his eyes glinting as he straightened up. “Relax, Miss Sage. You could’ve taken my head off with that.” He chuckled, shaking his head and tapped her shoulder. “You’ve got a mean swing.”

The shimmering magical field faded, and Alexia’s fist dropped, her shock twisting into irritation. “Who the hell are you? This is clearly breaking and entering!”

He grinned, undeterred. “Teleporting and entering, technically.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Right, because that makes it so much better. Pretty sure it’s still illegal. Wait...how do you know my name?”

“Patience, Miss Sage.” His voice was calm, with a hint of amusement. “I promise, all will be explained. But first, let me deal with this statue.”

Alexia squinted at him, a flicker of recognition surfacing. “Hold on...have we met before? You look kinda familiar.”

He simply gave her a knowing smile, turning back to the statue. He lifted his hands, and as he whispered an incantation, his palms began to radiate an ethereal white light. The glow intensified, pulsing like a heartbeat, until it seemed to fill the whole garage. Alexia stepped back, eyes widening as she watched the light extend from his hands, weaving like threads of silk in the air, forming intricate patterns that encircled the statue.

The man’s eyes turned bright white, locking onto the statue as if he were peering into its very essence. The air grew thick, humming with energy as the glowing threads wrapped tightly around the statue, binding it in layers of light.

For a few intense moments, he was still as a statue himself, as though caught in some mystical trance. Then, with a deep breath, he clenched his hands into fists, and the light shrank, concentrating around the statue until it pulsed with an unbearable brightness. A sound like cracking stone echoed through the garage.

Alexia held her breath as the light gave one last powerful burst, and then—

The statue shattered into dust, crumbling from its pedestal and dissolving into nothing but fine ash on the floor. The glow faded, leaving the garage in silence.

The man blinked, his eyes returning to normal as he turned to her with a smirk. “Well, Miss Sage, that’s one less relic for your collection.”

Alexia stared at the remains, a mix of awe and irritation twisting her expression. “That wasn’t even mine. Can we talk now?”

“Ah, yes! Let’s sit and chat, of course.” Before she could blink, she was back on her couch, and he was settled across from her, leaning back as if he’d been there all day.

“What the—how did…?” She looked around, utterly baffled.

He waved a dismissive hand. “Minor details, Miss Sage, mere sleight of hand! I am, after all, a sorcerer. The name’s Arthur Khan. Protector of the realm, hence the—” He gestured at his long, flowing robes, embroidered with arcane symbols. “The outfit.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know—”

He held up a finger, his face suddenly grave. “Wait!”

“Wait, what?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

He tilted his head, listening intently. “Do you hear that?”

She strained to hear. “…Hear what?”

He grinned, pleased. “Exactly!”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, exasperated.

He chuckled, standing up abruptly. “Thank you so much for your hospitality, Miss Sage. Now, about that statue? May or may not be the key to this little undead invasion, but I’ll look into it. See you soon! Good night!” With a flick of his hand, a swirling portal began to open beside him.

“Wait, wait!” Alexia leaped up. “You promised to explain everything!”

“Ah, yes. The full scoop.” He took a deep, dramatic breath. “The moment you popped into this realm, I noticed. I’m a guardian of sorts, y’see, and I tend to keep tabs on magical anomalies. And you, Miss Sage, are quite the anomaly. You were brought here by magic, yet have no inherent magical qualities yourself—which meant, aha! Someone ‘here’ likely summoned you.”

“So you’ve been spying on me?”

He waved his hands defensively. “A strong word, spying! Think of it as… casual observation. I even sent a few other sorcerers to check in now and then. Just making sure you weren’t up to no good. Then, I noticed something interesting: someone else was watching you. Suspicious, no? So naturally, I shifted my focus to them, and what do I discover? This statue, some curious dark magic, and a charming doppelgänger of yours—Miss Ryland, I presume—who just might be involved in this whole undead mess.”

Alexia frowned, trying to process it all. “You think Ryland’s behind it?”

He shrugged. “I’d like to find out. Any idea where she is these days? Or even if she’s in this realm at all?”

“No.”

“Ah, well, no worries.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you for your cooperation. Just a heads-up—people may, hmm, target you now. You have the look of someone who can handle it, but please, don’t make things…’messy’. If anyone bothers you, just report it to the association, yes?”

“I’m not planning to kill anyone,” Alexia said flatly.

He eyed her skeptically. “Good, splendid. Just checking. You do have that, ah, lethal air about you.”

With a swirl of his robe, he entered the portal. “Take care, Miss Sage. Oh, and do try to stay out of trouble. Or not—I’m flexible!” He vanished through the portal, leaving Alexia stunned.

Alexia blinked, looking around. She realized it was eerily quiet now. No undead. No turrets firing. Just… silence..

“What…just happened?”