"How much further?" asked Frieda as the warm rays of sunshine reflected on her wet forehead. The car rumbled joyfully when it finally had solid asphalt under its squealing tires again.

"Half an hour, maybe less."

"Not everyone can stand Rivjord. Are you afraid of death?" Sir Wilhelm suddenly asked with a hint of a worried smile as if he were slightly concerned for her. He wasn't wearing a poor mask, but it lacked that certain gleam to be convincing.

But why now? He had done his job perfectly. They didn't see much ice or fog. Even ghosts were suspiciously few. Hopefully, she could save herself an unnecessary conversation. She was 14, but the soldiers must have seen many students like her. That may have explained the precaution in the air.

"I'd rather stay here if it means not having to write a 20-page report for the next few weeks that my teacher doesn't like anyway."

"Ah, you heard her. Nerves of steel. Nothing to mess around with. Who knows, she could become our boss in the future."

"You should drink less; otherwise, the cold will get you," Wilhelm replied. "She only watched our work. I'll retire before she sets her first foot in our business."

Arrogant ass, Frieda wanted to say but didn't give in to his provocation. Perhaps a burning blade in his throat would finally stop this nonsense. Quick and easy... Okay, maybe not that easy... At the lighthouse, don't let all the guards have a stick up their asses, she pleaded. Too bad the air conditioning had given up the strike. Otherwise, he would have to fight with sweat stains in his beautiful black fabric later.

As always, Wilhelm fiddled with his suit buttons and then put a triangular piratelike hat with a golden band of runes on his head. She wondered what it said. These signs were not covered in any course she took. Frieda didn't want to ask either; otherwise, there would be another long story. She could look them up in a book series next week anyway. There was no need to ask.

"Well, if you say so," Gordon growled. He had children and probably got used to remarks like that. Why else did he always talk about the Baltic Sea and how happy he was to finally go on a family trip? Maybe his maturity was just part of growing up. She wasn't sure.

He must have been in the service for several years. At least that was what the returning smell, burning in her nose, indicated. Of course, she had forgotten her nasal spray. At least the windows were open.

He wasn't the youngest anymore, yet something seemed to stick to his stature. Was it the beard, the self-confidence, or perhaps the experience? At least you could rely on him, Frieda decided and closed her eyes to dodge future conversations.

"Hopefully, we'll reach the base before it gets dark," Wilhelm suddenly spoke to himself and knocked against the front seat. "Press down; I can already see the moon!"

"Why the rush? Another beer at night with your brotherhood? You weird sects must be drinking your worries away."

Frieda smiled unconsciously. At least Wilhelm didn't smell of black smoke. Perhaps he was more sensible than she thought. At least compared to the rest in his work field, but she didn't have to say that.

"He's afraid of the dark," Gordon replied. "We all should. At least as long as we're in this car."

"The boundary is quite thin today."

"I've heard worse stories," Frieda intervened. "If you want to scare me, do it differently."

"We don't make jokes on the full moon. Especially not when..." Wilhelm began, fell silent, and stared out the window as if he had seen something. She opened her eyes and followed his trembling gaze, but the sun was too low. "... when they can hear us. Living memories attract them. We have enough stuff for a bloody horde to materialize."

"But that's why you're here. So that nothing finds us," John interjected. "Or did you do a sloppy job?"

Wilhelm laughed but didn't answer any further; buildings and masts of a base loomed in the distance. Frieda could see it before anyone else. Far ahead were small metal-like constructions at regular intervals and a large, glowing yellow LED emblem at the top that looked like a rune. Only from the sky would one recognize the circle that went perfectly around the entire base.

Riva crackled in the air as they passed through a hidden membrane. Everyone relaxed visibly. A small metal beam whirred, and the rune at the top briefly turned blue. It became more crowded. More and more cars and vans shared the road. Sensors flashed on green grass.

Faintly in the rear-view mirror, Frieda observed a large van. It smelled of frost... She rubbed her eyes, and the smell disappeared. Only the large van rolled quietly along the road behind them. Something seemed strange, but no one shared her unease. Wondering, she leaned back in her seat.

"At least there'll be fresh food later," she murmured, closing her eyes as the vehicle slowed down to join the traffic jam.

***

With a tongue click, he stopped a large van. The window slid down almost of its own accord. The driver reached for the empty passenger seat to hand the officer his ID, papers, keys, and other documents.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Faintly in the mirror, two soldiers went to the back, opened the doors, and jumped inside to examine. The gentle vibration of the engine sang in the boiling heat, even though the sun was already low, almost vanishing.

Shortly afterward, the officer returned with stamped documents. He could drive on. It had taken long enough. Nodding, he shifted into first gear.

The first headlights illuminated the road. A large, slightly older building loomed in the distance like a shimmering city, as if the daytime sun was shining on it. The walls glittered with starlight, leaving the soldier speechless. Certainly a strange sight in the night.

Only after a while did he notice the dilapidated brick walls and numerous windows. However, the strange wonder in the chest did not change. It was like a slight pang in conscience. Tensely, his fingers squeaked the steering wheel, worried about his thoughts.

Finally, the car came to a halt. His tongue clicked again after he swallowed a pill. The strangers' voices became muffled, faint, and bearable. Columns adorned the sides of the luxurious entrance. Two soldiers hurried down the steps as if they had been waiting, and a man in a black suit with a gold brooch followed.

He carefully opened the door but kept his eyes on the brooch until he recognized it as a golden balanced weight scale with a lighthouse in the center. A hunter! Or maybe just a Magi? Hot air formed a wall. He already missed the cool breath of the air conditioning. Take it easy.

"Moin, you look seasick."

"Forgot how hot it is out here, sir," he replied, clicking his tongue and going to unlock the transporter. "That heat could kill." With narrowed eyes, the Hunter examined the crates. The first beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Why didn't he say anything?

"We'll all have plenty of time to sleep in the frost later," one soldier said.

"Hopefully, not so soon."

"You're late," the Hunter finally replied.

"With the traffic, it's a wonder I got here at all," the driver answered with a laugh, surreptitiously examining the Hunter's emotions and beginning to push gently.

"We didn't get any messages from you for being late. Normally you should... Hmm... well, you probably know anyway. Let's go; we don't want to stand here all day now, do we? Surely you could give us a hand?"

"Of course," the driver answered with a smile that could hardly have been more crooked.

***

"Hey, red angel, your parents are taking a ferry to Sylt. When are you planning to follow them? Kiss, N." 20:19... Frieda quickly looked at her digital watch... 20.20... slowly, the cell phone sank onto her thigh and slid sideways onto the bed. How? Her eyes flicked around the room in search of something. Books, paper, or cameras, but nothing had changed since she left the room in the morning.

A breeze rushed through her hair. The window and door were clean. Even her nose found no traces of smell. No one entered the room, for sure. And yet she felt a heavy look on her skin. But it didn't come from a camera; it felt too realistic for that. She sensed it precisely. It was always there, even earlier in the car... as if it was a part of her.

A distant roar of officers snapped her out of her muffled thoughts. The window was open. She peered cautiously through the panes of glass, even though she didn't know what she was looking for. No matter how hard her eyes strained in the growing darkness, no one watched her. Trees, grasses, and even the houses opposite remained empty.

The road had little traffic. The only unusual sight was a truck in front of the main entrance. No one was delivering anything at this hour. At least not in this place... But what did she know? After all, she had only been here for a week. Shrugging her shoulders, Frieda decided not to ponder it further and closed the curtains. However, the feeling didn't disappear.

"How does he do that?" She lifted her feet, kicked her boots against the wall, and pushed a pillow behind her back. The cell phone lit up. She read the text one last time, brushed the disturbing message aside, and started a video call. "How annoying."

It beeped and beeped as suddenly a frosty wind shot through her curtains. It was night; of course, it should be colder, but not like this... she frowned in surprise. The cell phone whistled again and drew her attention. How many times had it beeped? She couldn't say for sure. But just as the urge to hang up sprouted, someone picked up.

"Ahh, I thought you'd forgotten about me," Mia shouted shrilly through the line, making the speakers squeak. "Hey, look, she called, guys!"

"Wasn't she going to call us yesterday? Why is she still awake at this hour?" said a voice that probably belonged to Julius. But with all the noise, she wasn't too sure.

"It's not late. It's half past eight! Half past eight!"

"What did you say?" Mia asked as strands of white silver hair fell in front of the camera.

"Nothing, nothing. Just go on."

"Okay!" it crackled through the line. "How was your week?"

"I don't know; I will probably miss this place." Voices and people flitted through the picture. Too many to describe. With a smile, Frieda pressed deeper into the pillow before suddenly getting up to close the window.

***

Night fell. A few red lights flashed, and the strange flickering of the screens was a constant distraction. Through the control room's windows, lights glimmered like the power was about to go out. Paper rustled over the typing of keys. And yet officers scurried through the corridors. Words bubbled into an incomprehensible mush. One could taste the stress in the air if it weren't for the overpowering smell of coffee that never left.

"Sir, the temperature drops suspiciously."

"Ghosts? Or something... worse?"

"I... I don't know."

"Then find me someone who fucking knows! We're surrounded by magi and sorcerers here, aren't we, or have they all left?"

"Certainly not, sir," replied the man, practically jumping out of his chair. He quickly hurried out of the door. How long would it take? Should he trigger the alarm? He dismissed the doubtful thought, deciding it was still too early. Cautiously, he peered out the large windows onto the no longer boiling street, amazed at the lack of lights and people.

Just half an hour ago, the place was alive and laughing. Even if only in moderation. Now everything seemed dead and deserted; only in the surrounding houses were lights and the shadows of people. Unnoticed wafts of mist rode through the streets like horses. But he noticed them. Perhaps he was mistaken?

Then he saw something faintly behind the white blanket. A small blue flame glimmered in the distance. Behind the fog, as if in a storm. Like an eye or spotlight, it swung in the darkness, trailed by a shrill tinkling of chains. It was too vague. Closer, he pressed his face to the glass and squinted. Suddenly, it occurred to him to set off the alarm. Only now did he notice the whining sensors and panicked shouts.

"Your orders?!" Two hands grabbed his shoulder and shook him awake. Frost scrambled over the window. A booming bang smashed cracks into the glass. Everyone flinched or fell to the floor. The sea cried out with a roar. Water splashed, and the wind howled. Gunshots echoed in the distance. With terror in his chest, he straightened up and looked down at the now many lights. Large and small, far and near. The countless cones swayed. Close, too close.

"Oh no..."

"Sir?"

"There's no sea here..."