Found Girl

By Josie Snow

Prologue

My name is Lisa Snow, and it’s 2029.

I live in the Americas—what used to be called the United States—in a place once known as Arkansas.

Now it’s part of the land of self-sustaining communities.

Communities I like to explore.

I started doing that after my parents died.

I picked up a few stipends to study frequencies at the local college. That’s what gave me a reason to keep moving—and a way to listen deeper to the world around me.

Chapter 1-Lisa

Small college towns—their downtowns at night aren’t really experienced by normal folk. It’s a strange kind of quiet, electric and emptied out at the same time.

Not many talk about it—and maybe they shouldn’t.

Anyway, I was walking alone down the sidewalk. Everything was closed up in the small downtown area on a Thursday night at 8 p.m.—except one storefront.

You could hear music coming from it.

Everyone inside sounded loud, full of something I couldn’t name.

As I got closer, I realized they weren’t just talking.

They were speaking in light language—or tongues, if you’re Christian.

But it wasn’t just the voices—it was the music.

There was this otherworldly sound drifting out—joyous, layered, shimmering. A live drummer and pianist were inside, and it was like they were translating the spirit of each person into rhythm and melody.

One at a time, people stepped forward and began to speak in that strange, flowing language—and as they did, the drums would ripple, the piano would glisten.

It felt like their soul was being sung.

It was divine.

It was alive.

And then—I walked in.

Everything stopped.

No more drums. No more piano. Just silence—tight and awkward.

People turned to look at me.

Someone coughed. The pianist hit a key—accidentally, maybe. A single note that sounded like a question mark.

I don’t know what kind of frequency I walked in with—but it must’ve shorted something out.

If energy had sound, mine was probably a thud wrapped in static.

Someone in the back whispered, “What in the world…?”

I almost turned around.

But then—the young man up front locked eyes with me.

He pointed—called me out—and everyone followed his lead.

“Tonight,” he said, “you will look into the mirror for the first time since your birth here—and then you will be born again.”

The crowd screamed with glee and kept speaking in tongues.

“Take her to the room,” someone shouted.

I don’t know why I went—but I did.

A room. A chair. A mirror.

They left me there and shut the door behind them.

They told me to pray—then open my eyes—and look.

There were many reasons I wanted to be born again—not in a religious way, but in a real way.

So I dared whoever truly loved me—up there or out there—to do it.

To make me born again.

And when I opened my eyes—I was shocked.

There was a bird in the mirror.

“Oh my God,” I thought. “This is weird. How can I be seeing this?”

But I knew that bird. I recognized it—because somehow, it was me.

Just a regular sparrow. Nothing distinct—except the eyes.

The eyes were beating out this light, this beauty—and I knew it.

This was me.

How could that be?

I’d never been beautiful—not since childhood

But this bird—I loved it.

I could watch it all day long.

It had a quality I couldn’t name.

I tried. “Unique?” “Special?”

Nothing captured it.

But I couldn’t get enough of it.

It was me—and I knew it.

The door burst open.

“The prophet wants to see you now,” someone said.

The bird was gone.

I was led up to the front. Everyone stared.

The prophet looked me dead in the eye—and moved closer.

“Testify.”

All I could say was: “It was me. I saw a bird—and it was me.”

He stared harder—into me—and said, “This bird has seen a lot.”

And then I saw the bird’s eyes again—just the eyes—one eye—getting closer and closer—

And then—

I was out.

Chapter 2-Artimus

I heard the birds when I woke up. They were chirping. The sun was coming out. I felt part of this place—all of it.

Something deep inside told me everything I truly know was all around me. 

I felt like a baby.

Someone, I guess, had brought me to my dorm room, because I woke up in my bed. For a second I tried to replay last night—how I got here.

The memory didn’t come. The birds did.

 I did feel different—like the moment was the safest and most blissful place to be.

A thought came to me that my parents were very mindful people and engaged in mindfulness throughout their lives before they died.

The thought was that, in one night, I had caught up to them—at my young age.

The train replaced mindfulness as a technique and I just got on the fastest train and took a leap forward.

I recognized that I believed that thought was true, and that if other thoughts came like this, my life might turn into something very nonsensical and sad—or quite the opposite.

But what path was I going to take? One or the other? Or something in the middle?

These choices make you.

I also thought—there’s a reason why I took the fastest train.

But I didn’t know what that reason was.

It felt like destiny, and that my life was going to continue to be different.

As I went to my two classes that day, I realized how much I loved being alive at this time—when we were learning so much about light and sound frequency.

Studies in this area might be on the verge of a breakthrough.

I was asked to read more about a study that was being done here in Arkana, and that Artimus, a student in Theta House, might have the preliminary results.

I knew a friend there named Anna.

Yes, it was the one house on campus that was allowed to be coed.

I couldn’t believe this community allowed it.

I thought—why just one house?

Maybe they’re just trying it out as an experiment.

I was talking to Anna, and she told me a little about Artimus.

I guess he was a heartthrob with a reputation.

Anyway, I felt like someone was following me. Not literally—just present. Lunchroom. Then the library.

  Late afternoon in the campus library. Fluorescent lights buzz faintly above rows of books. Lisa sits at a long table with a few scattered papers and her tablet open to an article on frequency resonance. She notices a figure approaching before she looks up—him. The boy from the lunchroom and a class we have together. The stare. The strange vibe.

Artimus:

(softly, with a curious smile)

I hear you’ve been asking about the studies on sound frequency.

Lisa:

(surprised but guarded)

So you’re Artimus?

 Artimus nodded. “Yes”   

Lisa:

I like this sort of thing. Thought I’d dig into it a little.

(pauses, then with a subtle edge)

I heard some things about you, too.

Artimus:

(chuckling faintly)

Good things, I hope.

(sits across from her)

Maybe we could get together sometime—compare notes. Talk.

Lisa:

(cocking her head slightly)

See, it felt like you were already doing that.

Earlier. In the lunchroom.

You were watching me. Kind of… scoping me out.

Artimus:

(nonchalant)

Paranoia a new thing for you?

Lisa:

(firm but open)

Fair question.

Honestly? Everything feels off lately.

I fainted last night. Downtown. Weird vibes.

Artimus:

(leaning in slightly, intrigued)

Interesting.

Lisa:

You didn’t answer the question.

Were you watching me or not?

Artimus:

(slow smile)

Would that be so terrible?

Maybe I just find you… interesting.

Lisa:

(sits back, narrowing her eyes)

Okay. You’re doing it again.

There’s something off here.

I don’t know what it is, but—yeah. I’m not buying it.

She begins gathering her things to leave.

ARTIMUS

Wait—

(sincerely, stripped of charm)

I’m sorry.

I didn’t mean to come off like that.

I was nervous, honestly. I wasn’t trying to be creepy.

You caught my attention, and I didn’t know how to start a conversation that didn’t sound… rehearsed.

Lisa:

(stops, considers him)

More plausible.

Though it’s hard to believe, looking at you—

Campus heartthrob. Full menu of options.

I mean… I heard the stories.

Artimus:

(smiling, a little ashamed)

Okay. Busted.

I guess I’m not used to… painfully honest types.

Lisa:

So that’s it? You watch people you find interesting?

That’s not normal.

No one does that.

Unless they’re holding something in.

Which—you are.

Artimus:

(quiet, almost with a dare)

That’s good.

You’re right not to trust me.

A long, electric silence stretches between them.

Artimus:

(in a low voice)

In fact…

You should probably leave now.

They lock eyes. Not anger. Not threat. Just something deeper neither of them can name. Something magnetic. Something uneasy.

Lisa:

(almost whispering)

Yeah. I think I will.

She walks out. Doesn’t look back.

The conversation really bothered me.

How strange was my day so far.

My thoughts went straight to arrogance. And cruelty.

Old fears creeping up.

I told myself—don’t take this the wrong way.

Don’t freeze like before.

Not this time.

So I went to class early. Just… showed up.

Maybe I wanted to prove something to myself.

Or maybe I wanted to see if he’d show up, too.

And he did.

The theater space was already humming with anticipation. Today was the day they said we’d begin the energy exercise.

That’s how the director described it—an exploration of resonance between people, not words.

Inspired by old acting techniques, but going further. It was about what happens underneath.

As I took my place in the circle with the other students, I noticed him—

and I stared without meaning to. He was at ease in his body, but there was something tense under the surface. Something coiled.

The director passed by with a clipboard, confirming pairs.

I heard his name called aloud for the first time.

Artimus.

We were paired.

As we stood opposite each other under the lights, the director gave instructions.

“Observe your partner. Make a simple statement about them. Repeat. Let the energy change. Let it be real. I’ll call ‘switch’ when it’s time.”

As I took a breath, I had a memory—

a string of them, actually.

All the people—usually men—who had hurt me.

Who’d turned cruel out of nowhere.

Who’d decided I was somehow… something to punish.

It felt like it always found me 

And now it was standing in front of me.

He looked like he was judging me.

Hating me.

Probably about to be cruel—for no reason.

And then—I thought of the bird.

The one I saw in the mirror.

The one that was me.

It just clicked.

I was a threat.

A threat to something he was hiding.

And what came out of my mouth wasn’t strategy or defense.

It was a natural step closer.

“What the fuck, dude?”

The class turned for a moment—then away.

The director raised an eyebrow, then gave the cue:

“Switch.”

Artimus moved first.

He began to circle me. Slowly. Deliberately.

We were still doing the exercise, technically—saying the same line, over and over—but now it had lost meaning.

The words were only sounds.

What mattered was the energy beneath them.

“Your confidence seems like a mask.”

“Your confidence seems like a mask.”

We repeated it like two people pushing against each other with our eyes.

Circling.

Testing.

He was trying to find a crack in me.

But I didn’t flinch.

I just… watched him.

He broke the line first.

“I’m powerless… go ahead and kill me.”

And then—he said it. Soft.

“Lisa.”

And somehow—it reached the child inside me.

Not the woman I am now.

The one who had always watched.

The one who only knew how to love—even in the middle of pain.

And it was too much.

I caught sight of a red light blinking from the side stage.

A camera. Recording us.

No time to ask why.

The lights blurred.

The world melted.

And I was out.

Chapter 3 – Dr. Eve

I woke up again in a different place—but again, I heard the birds chirping away. The sun was out.

I remembered that young girl inside me.

She felt touched—in a good way.

Someone had found her.

Was she humming?

I think she was vibrating.

The nurse came in, gentle but clinical, taking my vitals. She helped me out of my clothes and handed me what looked like a paper napkin—but called it a hospital gown.

“The doctor coming to examine you is a woman,” she said. “Very young for a doctor. Supposedly brilliant.”

I nodded, still swimming in the aftershock of whatever had happened in the theater.

The nurse kept chatting.

Apparently, fainting was a thing now. I wasn’t the only one—it was something this doctor specialized in.

She also said representatives from the school were coming.

And then—quietly, like she wasn’t sure if she should—she added:

“A young man named Artimus stayed for hours. Then left.”

The name filled the room like light.

I was overwhelmed… but also happy. Intrigued.

He stayed.

Eventually, the doctor came in, as they always do—whenever. It was sometime after breakfast.

Dr. Eve walked in like someone twice her age.

Composed. Controlled.

Her body young, her eyes older. Like she’d seen it all. Like she knew.

She asked me to sit up and began examining my eyes, scanning me like I was more than a patient—maybe a question she’d been waiting to ask.

Then, a strange question:

“Do you have any tattoos?”

I blinked. “Yeah—on my arm and my lower back.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?”

“No,” I said, without hesitation. She was a doctor, after all. And something about her presence made me feel… safe.

She looked at the one on my arm first, then turned me gently, peering at the one on my lower back.

When she came back around, I caught her eyes again.

That’s when I knew—without her saying it—that she’d been with women.

I don’t know how I knew. I just did.

And strangely, that made me feel even more comfortable.

At that moment, I felt like a virgin—raw, cracked open, but not ashamed.

She felt like someone who could see my form and appreciate it, technically and otherwise.

I didn’t feel objectified. I felt… interesting.

She was professional. Impossibly professional.

Which made me like her even more.

A thought crossed my mind like breath:

You can explore any part of me. I don’t mind. In fact… I’d love it.

She didn’t know I was thinking that. She just continued, focused, still.

She’d just viewed me naked. So I figured—it was only fair I ask her some questions.

But first, she asked about the fainting.

She wanted the full story—what led up to it, both times.

That was… personal.

So I made a deal.

“I’ll answer your questions honestly,” I said, “if you’ll answer mine.”

She nodded.

I told her about the bird. About the light. About Artimus. Then I stopped and looked at her.

“Do you know Artimus?”

The question caught her. She looked like I’d pulled a string she’d kept hidden under her coat.

“We’re sort of related,” she said, careful. “I work for his uncle. He adopted me.”

There was something behind her eyes when she said it.

A story. A secret.

“Did Artimus tell you what happened?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “He called me. Told me his version.”

“He pretty much asked me to kill him,” I said. “Because he felt so powerless. Do you know anything about that?”

She started backing up, verbally. Pulling back.

I could see the wall going up.

So I said it.

“You know what my ass looks like… and you know I’m a bird.”

The ass comment landed.

She didn’t deny what I was really saying. She couldn’t.

Her eyes darted, and she looked around the room. She even closed the door.

Paranoia, maybe. But it felt like more.

“Our—his—uncle is a rich man,” she said. “He has… connections. He acquires things. Not the way normal people do. He put a lot of pressure and influence on Artimus growing up.”

“Did he acquire you?” I asked.

Her face cracked. Not broken. But… gotten.

“I’m sorry,” I added quickly. “I don’t know why I have to be so blunt lately. I apologize. Truly.”

She shook her head—hard. “No. That’s what’s needed in our family. But… I don’t know what the end result will be. So… it’s complicated, I guess.”

There was a sadness in her.

Like some beautiful bird being kept in a cage for too long.

I wasn’t going to let it go.

Not like everyone else in this town probably had.

Since my rebirth, I hadn’t stopped to question much.

I just plowed through.

And so far—I was on a roll.

“Well,” I said. “Me and Artimus seem to have a connection. He says he has no power over this. He’d rather die. And I say—let’s see what happens. Let’s see who’s more powerful.”

“Are you in?”

She chuckled. “You don’t even know me. For all you know, Uncle Bob could be an innocent person with somewhat good intentions.”

“But that’s not true, is it?”

Silence.

“Are you being abused?

Chapter 4—Ben 

We got together to talk— all three of us.

We went back and forth until it finally settled into a plan.

The night before.

Eve stood by the window like she was trying to see danger before it arrived.

Artimus paced once, then stopped, like his body couldn’t decide whether to run or protect me.

“He’s going to want to meet you,” Artimus said. “You’re a person of interest now.”

Eve’s eyes snapped to him. “Because she fainted?”

“And because of the camera,” he said. “That wasn’t for class. That was for him.”

My stomach dropped. “So he watched us.”

Artimus nodded once. “He watches everything.”

Eve stepped closer to me.

“Let me guess,” she said. “A birdie is telling you to go.”

(She shook her head.) “Lisa…”

“Is that how you really wanna play this, Eve?” I said. “I’m going—whether you two decide to leave him or not.”

“It’s easier and safer to decide I’m crazy,” I said, “and go back to your cage, isn’t it, Eve?”

Eve and Artimus looked at each other.

“He’s not a ‘meet you’ kind of man, Lisa,” Eve said. “He’s a collect you kind of man. And he has real power.”

“No,” I said, surprising myself with how steady it came out. “I’m not freezing and waiting for him to decide what I am.”

“You say he targeted me because I fainted,” I said. “That he recorded our class because of me. Then my decision is simple.”

“I face him—and I leave him and his damn school of pawns on a chessboard.”

I looked at Eve.

“Now are you coming with me or not?”

Artimus looked at Eve. “Haven’t we been waiting for permission to do just that?”

He gave a small, crooked smile. “Make a run for it.”

“The universe sure has a sense of humor,” he added. “Sending Joan of Arc that talks to birds.”

He kept looking at Eve.

“You ever try crazy to get your freedom?”

Eve stared at me—intently. Then something shifted in her.

Like a child coming out.

So vulnerable.

She lifted her hand. Not dramatic. Just real.

All the strength that child could muster.

I found her and took it.

And Artimus took my other hand. And for a second, we were just 3 kids

Morning. 

I was meeting Ben Thompson.

Uncle Ben. Uncle Bob. Whatever name people used to make him sound harmless.

At his place of work.

An appointment had been made. Turns out—he wanted to meet me anyway.

I was a person of interest because of my fainting spells.

So it was settled.

 I tried to summon whatever mysterious power had been moving through me lately.

Not with rituals or ceremony.

Just the way I had in the mirror room—with the chair and the silence.

I cried out, help me.

That was the prayer. That’s all I had.

It seems like destiny just kicks in when you’re trying to fit into its plans.

At least, that was the thought I had. And lately, I tended to believe my thoughts.

His office smelled like old furniture 

He greeted me politely, with a smile. 

“Hello,” he said. “How can I help you?”

He gestured to the chair across from his desk.

That threw me.

I was told he wanted to meet me.

But maybe that was part of his game—make me feel like I was the one asking.

I thought: Just plow through.

“I have a message for you, Ben,” I said. Calm. Direct.

“Oh yeah?” he said. “What council is that?”

He was amused. A little confused.

“Cosmic council, Bob,” I said, using his name like it meant something else entirely. “I’m here to override your authority.”

His smile faltered. “What do you mean?”

I stood.

“The Council sees how you tried not to touch her,” I said. “Or at least, how you tried to believe that not touching her made you innocent.”

He blinked. “Wait—who are you talking about?”

I turned and walked a few paces, not facing him.

“You told yourself what you did while she slept wouldn’t count,” I said. “That it wouldn’t hurt anything.”

I turned slowly to look at him again.

“You did less than some of your family, sure,” I said. “But trust me—you want this judgment of mine.”

“It’ll release you from the hiding you’ve done,” I said, “and the cruel way you’ve developed over time.”

He swallowed hard. “Who are you talking about?”

I walked again, letting the silence fill the space. Then spoke.

“You didn’t want to be cruel,” I said. “I can see that.”

“But it was the only way you could hide,” I said, “because the alternative was unfathomable.”

He looked lost. Exposed. “Who are you?”

“Where did I come from?” I echoed softly.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But for some reason, I know your shit.”

He didn’t speak. I was drained, but I wasn’t done.

“Your shit hits the ground and becomes fertilizer,” I said, “to grow something less cruel. I see you.”

I stepped closer.

“You were overcome by what came down on you,” I said. “What happened wasn’t truly you. I know that.”

Then, quieter, almost to myself:

“But why did it happen like that,” I said, “if there was no chance you could stop yourself?”

That was the part that haunted both of us.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m going along with this,” he said.

“I know,” I said. “Defending is all you know.”

“But this,” I said, “is fast learning in your ancestral line.”

“So learn this,” I said. “It’s better not to rape and pillage.”

“You’ve lost Eve and Artimus,” I said.

He looked genuinely confused now. “Artimus? What did he tell you?”

“Did you really think you could keep people,” I said, “in this day and age—when you treat them like this?”

“They’re not playing your sick game anymore,” I said. “They made up their minds.”

“And you?” I said. “You need a doctor.”

I headed toward the door.

“Now’s the time, Ben,” I said, turning one last time. “Say you’re sorry. Say it wasn’t a good game. For God’s sake—say something.”

His voice cracked.

“I didn’t want this…” he said. 

I stepped out into the sunlit street.

Relieved. Amped.

Buzzing with something that didn’t quite have a name.

And there they were.

Artimus and Eve—waiting in a car so nice it didn’t belong in this town.

I hopped in, tossed them the tiny recorder I’d hidden in my coat pocket.

They didn’t say anything.

They just smiled the way people do when a burden is shared.

The coordinates were already set.

We were leaving town.

We sat not speaking for a while. Just… looking at each other.

Everything was different now, and that was settling in.

Eventually, I asked, “Where did you get this car?”

Artimus glanced at me, boyish grin creeping through.

“It was Ben’s,” he said. “But I thought it should be ours.”

I turned to look at Eve.

She was thinking the same thing I was—stealing it was concerning.

But I shrugged. Looked out the window.

“I don’t think he’ll be asking for it.

Chapter 5 – Lake

As we headed down the road, we decided to stop by Lake DeGray.

Old picnic tables sat near the shore. We needed somewhere to breathe. To land.

I wandered off with a sandwich in my hand, drinking from my water bottle, watching the lake ripple under the sun.

Behind me, Artimus and Eve listened to the tape.

I didn’t need to hear it again.

All I needed was to watch their faces.

Artimus sat away from Eve at first—like distance was a habit.

But as the recording played, Eve’s face crumpled. Quiet tears streamed down like she couldn’t stop them.

Artimus’s face went red. He stood. He looked broken and soft and furious at himself all at once.

“I’m so sorry,” I heard him say.

“I should have known.”

And then—they fell into each other.

No hesitation. No pride.

Just two people crying in each other’s arms.

I stood by the lake, tears forming.

They were worth it.

Every stupid thing I did. Every crazy risk Eve was sure would end in captivity—or worse.

They were worth it.

Worth it for this new way of living I embraced. True connection. 

We drifted around the shoreline after that. No need for words.

Just sky. Water. The presence of being alive.

For the first time, I let myself think about the future.

I saw something strange and beautiful—technology expanding, people waking up, reaching beyond the stars.

But doing it together. Freely.

And still… who knew who was really pulling the strings behind people like Ben?

Who knew how deep it went?

I looked back at them. At us.

We were three now.

No labels. No rules. Just us, figuring it out.

And maybe, just maybe—we were the most interesting three people on Earth.

We piled back into the car, still laughing.

An old rock and roll song came on—loud.

Windows down. Wind in our hair.

We were alive in every way possible—

—and headed who knows where.  

Chapter 6—Gone Girl 

The hum of the road pulled me up from sleep.

Not fully—just enough to remember my body again. My neck was stiff. My cheek had a crease from the seatbelt. The windows were cracked and the night air kept threading through the car like it was trying to cool the whole day down.

For a second I didn’t know where I was.

Then I remembered.

Ben. The tape. The lake. The way Eve’s face collapsed. The way Artimus went red with it, like the truth had burned him from the inside out.

The Batmobile kept driving itself, steady and quiet, like it didn’t care what kind of war we’d just walked out of.

I sat up slowly.

Artimus was turned around in the front seat—his whole chair rotated so he could face us. Like he couldn’t stand being cut off from us right now. Like he needed to keep eyes on us to prove we were real.

Eve was beside me in the back. Her posture looked composed, but her hands were clasped so tight I could see the tendons in her fingers.

Nobody spoke for a while.

Then Artimus exhaled—long and low.

“I wondered if this day would actually come,” he said, voice thin, “or if I would just keep floating further away from…”

He didn’t finish.

Eve did.

“From yourself,” she said quietly. “From real life.”

Artimus blinked like that landed too hard. Like it was the first time he’d heard it said out loud.

Eve kept her gaze forward, voice steady but changed.

“Even if it’s just for now,” she said, “it’s worth it.”

She swallowed.

“You made me see that, Lisa.”

The words hit me in the chest.

I opened my mouth—something easy, something joking—but nothing came.

Instead, the truth slipped out.

“I never told you this,” I said, and my voice surprised me with how soft it was. “My parents died in the war.”

Silence.

“I thought I lost my life,” I added—like that was the only way to explain the shape of the grief. “Like… whatever I had left was just… floating.”

And then I cried.

Not politely. Not gracefully.

I cried without wanting to—shocked that I still could, like my body had been sealed up for years and someone had finally found the latch.

Eve’s hand landed on my shoulder.

Not dramatic. Not careful.

Just there. Warm. Steady.

Like: I’ve got you.

Artimus turned his face away for a second, jaw working, like he was trying not to fall apart again. Like he didn’t want to steal the moment—but he also couldn’t pretend he wasn’t in it.

The car kept moving.

Outside, the highway lights passed in slow, regular flashes, and for the first time all day, the world felt… quiet enough to live inside.

Hours passed. 

Eve said, “So it’s getting dark. Where are we going to sleep?”

Artimus flopped his arm across the back seat, grinning. “The cold hard ground—now that rooms are free, of course. That’s the only way it was going to happen. We’re nature people now.”

“That’s true,” I said, laughing. “Now that we have what we want for free, we want to slum it.”

Eve stretched her neck and sighed. “We’ve all had an incredibly emotional day. I want a shower.”

Artimus slipped into his English accent—something he’d been doing off and on just to entertain us. “Well then! Let’s ask the Cosmic Council. We need all the stardust we can get!”

We all laughed—real, belly-deep laughter. The kind that feels like release.

Then Eve turned to me. “Lisa… how did you even come up with the Cosmic Council anyway?”

At first we were still chuckling, but it softened.

I looked out the windshield at nothing. “I mean… I really believed it was a council telling me everything. Right before I went in. I know—it sounds crazy. I don’t know what to think about that.”

Eve looked at me gently. “You’re more beautiful now—not knowing, but in wonder about it.”

I looked back at her, and she looked through me.

One of those real looks—the kind that says I see you.

And for a second, I saw her too. Maybe more than I ever had.

But I couldn’t say anything.

Because… I love her.

And she needs time to process.

My God, I never want to treat her with anything but thoughtfulness and care. I don’t even know if she can feel that yet.

I cleared my throat. Forced the moment back into motion.

“Anybody know of a good room?” I asked.

“Yes,” Eve said casually. “There should be rooms in the next five miles if you get on the highway coming up.”

“Artimus, take the wheel.”

“Alrighty,” he said, already unbuckling.

I turned to Eve. “How did you know that?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Because this is where my real parents live.”

I froze.

Something about the way she said it.

I glanced at Artimus—like, did you know that?

We didn’t say much after that.

We pulled into the lot, scanned our thumbprints, and walked into our triple room. A robot assistant rolled in behind us, grabbing our bags with a quiet hum.

“Would you like refreshments?” it asked politely.

I waited for the others to answer. My mind was still on Eve.

I followed her across the room.

“Eve,” I said, lowering my voice. “Did you want to see your family while we’re here?”

She raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Why? You want some alone time with Artimus?”

“What?” I blinked. “No. That’s not me. I’m not thinking anything like that.”

“Ladies!” Artimus announced, bounding right into our moment. “I say we push the beds together. Make it a pajama party.”

I shooed him away like a fly.

“I get first dibs on the shower!” Eve shouted, already halfway into the bathroom.

“Don’t mind us,” Artimus called after her, looking straight at me. “But what if I have to piss?”

I threw my hands up. “What is going on? Why is her family here? I thought when you’re adopted, you don’t know where your family is.”

“Well isn’t that a silly nilly!” he said, unpacking.

He pulled off his shirt like it was nothing.

I stared—then realized I was staring.

My God.

“Hey, darling,” he said, grinning. “Can I go next in the shower?”

“Sure,” I mumbled, stepping back like I wasn’t just… affected.

He stripped down to his underwear. I swear he knew what he was doing.

My brain was trying to be holy. We’re soul family, I reminded myself.

But my body wasn’t listening.

Then from the bathroom—

“Lisa! Can you bring me my pink bag? It has my shampoo—there’s none here!”

She was in the shower.

I turned, but Artimus was already watching me. He winked.

He’s so worldly, and I hated that I loved it.

I took a breath and walked to the bathroom. Opened the door.

She was behind the glass. Her silhouette clear.

“Want me to get out the shampoo and soap?” I asked, trying to sound normal.

“Yeah,” she said. “That’d be great.”

I handed her the bottle—not staring—but I saw.

Tattoos. Curves. Strength.

She was… so hot.

I closed the door and walked out.

Artimus had pushed the beds together. Still in his underwear.

Something in me felt too full. Too loud.

“Robot,” I said sharply, “where can I get a coffee?”

The robot whirred. “There is a café on the corner. Would you like me to escort you?”

“Yes.”

As I walked toward the door, Artimus called out, “Where you going?”

I didn’t answer.

Outside, the night air felt cooler than I expected. The robot walked beside me like a quiet shadow.

I kept hearing her voice in my head. Because this is where my real parents live.

Was this why we were here all along?

I wasn’t sure what I was feeling anymore.

All I knew was—something had shifted.

And something else was about to begin.

I walked into the coffee shop and ordered like I knew what I was doing.

A guy walked in right after me—confident, sharp-eyed—and slid behind the counter like he belonged there. He and the barista had a weirdly tense exchange—hushed voices, shoulder shifts—then they both disappeared into the back.

A moment later, only the guy came out again.

Now he had an apron on.

Okay.

I looked at the menu. The coffee names were something else.

“Quantum Brew.” “Lucid Latté.” “Starseed Chai.”

“I guess I’ll take the… Starseed Chai?” I said, unsure if I was ordering a drink or a spiritual initiation.

He nodded like he heard that a lot.

I sat down and tried to center myself.

I really needed to ground. The energy between the three of us had been building all day, and if someone didn’t anchor this vibe soon, we were going to melt into some inappropriate dreamlike cuddle pile.

I took a sip.

I actually started to relax.

That’s when it happened.

The espresso machine… started breathing.

I blinked.

It was subtle at first—like metal rising and falling.

And then—it moaned.

Loudly.

Not like a mechanical whine.

More like… something alive. Slow. Rhythmic. Intense.

It picked up steam. Literally. The rhythm deepened. The machine started getting into it.

I was frozen in place.

Then, as if in stereo, I heard Eve’s voice in my head:

that’s it, right there…

And Artimus:

Lisa…

It was too much.

I looked around. No one else reacted. The guy behind the counter was casually refilling cinnamon jars like the espresso machine wasn’t audibly climaxing behind him.

That’s when I saw it.

A bird.

Right there—inside the café—fluttering past the counter and gliding toward the back door.

I knew it immediately.

It was the bird.

Me.

It turned once in midair—like it was calling me—and slipped out the door.

I didn’t think. I just moved.

I pushed the door open and ran.

I chased it through alleys I’d never noticed before, twisting through the city’s bones like I’d stepped into another layer of reality.

The bird flitted ahead, always just out of reach.

Then suddenly, there was a stream.

Water running clear through an overgrown corridor.

I stepped in. Waded toward the middle.

And then everything went white.

I fainted.

————————

Eve was frantically searching through her bag. “Where is my bra? I can’t believe you just let her leave! Where’s my bra!”

Artimus leaned against the dresser, arms crossed—until Eve turned and caught him sneaking a glance.

“Artimus!” she snapped. “This is not the time for this.”

“For what?” he said, straight-faced.

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh my God, like I didn’t catch you peeking when I pulled up my panties.”

He raised both hands. “Okay, okay—I’m sorry. It’s just…” He trailed off, eyes flicking toward the window. “It’s all just… very interesting.”

“Interesting?” she scoffed, pulling a wrinkled bra from under the bed.

“What—you can’t feel all this sexual energy? What are we supposed to do with it?” he asked, sincerely. His voice softened. “I mean it. I don’t know how to handle it.”

He looked like a boy who wanted to do right, but didn’t know how.

Eve saw it instantly.

She walked over, placed her hands on his shoulders—steady, warm—and looked him straight in the eyes.

“We’ve got to get a grip, Artimus. Both of us.”

He nodded, calmed, stepping back. “You’re right. You’re totally right.”

Then a beat.

“He probably has his dogs on us by now,” she muttered.

 I mean whose idea was it to take his car?”

“I had it debugged!” he said defensively. “You know I’m good at that sort of thing.”

Eve gave him a look, then softened. “I know.”

There was a pause between them. A stillness.

“Maybe she’s fine,” Artimus offered. “Maybe she’s just… hanging at the coffee shop.”

Eve didn’t believe that. Not really. But she needed to.

“Let’s go. Now.”

They both turned and headed for the door—unspoken fear rising between them.

They walked into the coffee shop together, quiet and alert.

Eve scanned the booths and tables. Artimus checked behind the counter.

“I’ll take a look outside again,” he said, already heading for the door.

Eve sat at a table and pulled up a picture of Lisa on her phone. Her thumb hovered over the screen, like the image might speak to her.

Artimus came back in. “Nothing.”

Eve leaned in, lowering her voice. “I’ve seen that guy behind the counter before.”

“You sure?” he asked, already on edge.

“Yes. I’m sure.”

Artimus exhaled. “Okay. Then something happened. We just don’t know what.”

He glanced toward the barista. “Alright—let’s kill two birds with one stone. You show her picture to the guy. If he says he hasn’t seen her, he’s lying.”

“Gotcha,” Artimus said, almost smiling at the thought of getting physical if needed. 

“You ask the patrons.”

“Okay. Let’s go,” Eve said.

They split. Eve moved from table to table, showing Lisa’s photo, asking if anyone had seen her.

Artimus took his time at the counter.

“Hey man,” he said, flashing a friendly grin. “You see this girl come in earlier?”

The guy barely looked. “Nope.”

“Really?” Artimus leaned in, like he was trying to remember something important. “Pretty sure she came in for a Starseed Chai. My friend says it makes you hear colors or something.”

The guy didn’t laugh.

Artimus picked up a cup off the side. “Nice place you’ve got here. You run this solo?”

No answer.

Then—crash.

Artimus “accidentally” dropped the cup behind the counter. “Oh man, I’m so sorry—let me help you with that.”

Without waiting, he hopped over the divider, fast and casual. With a practiced flick, he guided the guy toward the back door, away from the patrons.

Eve caught it and created a distraction—knocking over a stool, letting it clang to the ground. Heads turned.

In the back, Artimus pressed in. “Where is she?”

The guy hesitated—then cracked.

“She ran out the door. That’s all I know.”

“Who tipped you?”

“I think… her cousin called. Told us she was here. That’s all I know, I swear.”

Meanwhile, Eve had already gotten a half-story from an older woman near the window.

“She ran,” the woman said. “Like she saw something nobody else could.”

Eve was already moving. She pushed out the front door, scanning the street, the sidewalk, the alleyways.

Artimus joined her seconds later. His face was pale now, serious.

“They got her,” he said.

Back at the room.

“I’m going to crack your cousin’s head,” he said angrily.

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t even have contacted my family. I don’t know what made me think I could trust them,” she said.

He said understandingly, “It’s okay.”

He sat down. “What do we do now? I have no idea where they might have taken her.”

He looked at her, and they had a moment.

“I can contact him. It should be me. Never you. Not anymore.”

She turned her head, a little ashamed. “He’s going to want something.”

They both looked at each other.

She said, “What would Lisa do?”

Chapter 7 — Frequency

Birds chirped outside the window.

Again.

I blinked awake like I’d just had a heavenly nap—warm, weightless, like my body had been set gently back into itself.

Then memory slammed in.

Where am I?

I tried to sit up.

I couldn’t.

My wrists—my ankles—tied to the bed. Not cruel. Not cutting. Humane straps. But still.

Tied.

A woman I didn’t recognize stepped into view and checked my vitals like this was normal. Like she did this a hundred times a day.

I yanked against the straps.

“Where am I?” I snapped.

She didn’t flinch. She gave me a polite, practiced look—like a nurse in training trying to remember her lines.

“I don’t suppose you would want to help science,” she said, “with its studies that are so pivotal to our progression as a species.”

My stomach turned.

“I want to see Bob,” I said. “I want to talk to Bob about it.”

Her eyes flicked—barely—for half a second.

To the camera.

That’s when I saw it.

Up in the corner. Black lens. Quiet red light.

I looked straight into it and shook my head slowly.

“This is not the way.”

The nurse’s smile twitched, like she didn’t know what to do with that.

“Someone else will be here to see you,” she said too quickly.

She pulled a device from her pocket—obviously a phone—and turned slightly away from me.

“Okay, will do. Bye,” she said, bright and fake.

Then she faced me again and tried to sound upbeat, like a cheerleader who’d just learned the routine and didn’t know what the words meant.

“I don’t think you’ll be fainting anymore,” she said. “Yay!”

Her cheeks went pink immediately.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I mean… they fixed the problem… probably. I think…” Her eyes darted to the camera again.

“What did they do?” I demanded.

She giggled—actually giggled.

“I don’t know,” she said. “That’s above my pay grade.”

And then, like the whole thing was a field trip gone awkward, she left.

Eve stood at the sink with the water running too long.

She washed her hands like she could scrub the whole day off. Like if she got her palms clean enough, her chest would stop shaking. But her fingers kept slipping, and she kept starting over.

Artimus hovered in the doorway for a second—then came in quietly, like he didn’t deserve to take up space.

He stopped behind her.

Downcast. Bruised on the inside more than anywhere you could see.

ARTIMUS

It’s my fault.

Eve didn’t look up.

He swallowed, voice cracking on the edge of something ugly and honest.

ARTIMUS

I fucked up…

Sex always gets in my way.

He let out a short, bitter laugh that wasn’t funny.

ARTIMUS

I deserve it—whatever you want to say to me.

But please don’t shut me out.

Eve’s hands paused under the water. Then started again.

Artimus leaned in just a fraction, trying to read her face in the mirror.

ARTIMUS

What did you have to say to that creep?

I wanna know.

Eve finally spoke, but her voice sounded like it had gone somewhere cold.

EVE

This was for love.

The faucet hissed. The room went thin.

And then—Ben’s office.

FLASHBACK — Ben

Ben sat too comfortably behind his desk. The kind of comfort that comes from believing you own the room—and the people in it.

He stared at Eve like she was twelve again.

BEN

You expect me to believe you were just taking a vacation.

Eve’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

EVE

(Sharp)

Don’t treat me like I’m stupid.

Ben’s mouth twitched—almost amused.

Eve stepped closer, lowering her voice like she was letting him in on something private.

EVE

Lisa’s different.

I was intrigued. You met her… I admit it.

Ben’s eyes narrowed.

Eve kept going—fast, controlled.

EVE

She had me believing—

(scoffs at herself)

Well, she had me believing some stupid shit about frequency and the future.

A beat.

EVE

We fell for each other.

Ben leaned back, watching.

EVE

But she’s not coming to our way of thinking.

She never will.

Ben’s eyebrow lifted.

EVE

She’s too strong. And you didn’t have her long enough…

(to let it land)

…to teach her your ways.

Ben studied her like a scientist deciding whether the experiment was still salvageable.

BEN

Kindly put.

What about Artimus? Why is he involved?

Eve sighed like she hated saying it out loud.

EVE

You know Artimus.

She glanced away, then back.

EVE

Lisa liked him. She thought she was saving both of us.

Ben’s eyes sharpened.

Eve forced a half-smile, playing the part.

EVE

Artimus couldn’t get his mind off the three of us together.

Ben’s mouth curled.

BEN

(Chuckling)

And you—with your own brother. You expect me to believe that.

Eve’s eyes flashed.

EVE

Jeezus.

She leaned in.

EVE

You knew we had a fling.

You don’t think I know your dogs were watching every move we made back then?

Ben’s smirk faded.

BEN

I was worried… That’s why—

EVE

I know.

(softening, weaponizing it)

You were just being a parent.

Eve stood. Smooth. Beautiful. Dangerous.

She crossed behind him like she belonged there—and kissed his cheek like she was sealing a deal.

EVE

Now come on.

She smiled.

EVE

Are you gonna let me be me…

so I can reel this prophet wannabe into the fold—or what?

Ben didn’t smile back.

He looked at her with suspicion and distrust—like he could feel the lie vibrating in her teeth.

BEN

Let me be clear.

His voice went quiet.

BEN

If you don’t—there’s no going back this time.

Eve didn’t blink.

BEN

You’ll find out what it’s like to be nobody special.

I promise you that.

A beat.

BEN

I can always find you. Or Artimus. At any time.

You know that.

Back in the hotel room, the water was still running.

Eve’s hands were still under it.

And Artimus was still behind her, waiting to see if she would turn around.

Eve said, I did it to keep her alive. 

————————-

Lisa narration

I don’t even remember the “release.” One second I was strapped down, and the next I was… out.

Dropped off like a package.

A car door shut. Tires rolled away. Gone.

I stood there in the dark, free and clear, with no idea where I was or how far from anything.

Then headlights swept the road.

The car pulled up—black, sleek, absurdly expensive.

The Batmobile.

The driver’s door opened.

Artimus got out and said, “Get in.”

I didn’t ask questions. I just got in.

We pulled away hard.

“What the hell happened to you?” Artimus finally asked, glancing at me like he wanted to keep his eyes on the road but couldn’t.

“Beats me,” I said. “All I know is I woke up chained to a bed—not for long—and then I got dumped back to you two.”

I turned to face them—Eve in the passenger seat, silent, rigid, eyes forward like she was holding herself together by pure will.

“Chatterbox Nursey Sunshine—unicorns and butterflies—told me I probably won’t be fainting anymore,” I added. “But it’s above her pay grade to say. So yay, I guess.”

I paused. Then leaned forward, staring at both of them.

“I think it’s time you—” I looked hard at Eve, then at Artimus. “Both of you tell me what the hell is going on with me.”

“And how did you even get me back?” I added. “Is this déjà vu or what?”

They exchanged a look. The kind that said they knew more than they were letting on.

Eve turned slightly toward the window, voice careful.

“The fainting…” she said. “It’s probably a vibratory shift. A change in frequency you’re going through.”

“I need to examine you again once we’re back in the room,” she added without looking at me.

Just hearing that made my frequency shift a little already.

“But why is it happening now?” I pressed. “Why me?”

Eve didn’t answer right away.

“It’s not just you,” she said finally. “It’s happening to a lot of people. Science is trying to get ahead of it—”

“Trying to monetize it,” Artimus cut in, not hiding his disdain. “They want to harvest it. Sell it.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “Is it something in the area?”

“Yes,” Eve said. “There’s a crystalline grid in Hot Springs. It used to be a place people went to relax. To soak up the energy. Now they’re studying the hell out of it.”

“Come on,” she added. “We can talk more inside.”

Back at the room, Eve dropped her bag by the door like she couldn’t stand holding it another second.

She opened it and pulled out a sleek black medical device—something between a tricorder and a tuning fork.

She turned to me.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m going to need you to take off your clothes so I can scan you properly.”

Artimus perked up immediately.

“What?” he said. “I thought we were a family.”

Eve and I both looked at him like we could fry circuits.

“Okay, okay,” he said, hands up, backing toward the door. “I’ve got poking around to do on my own. I’ll be back in an hour—with food.”

He was gone before we could say another word.

The door clicked shut.

Eve turned back to me.

“We’ve got an hour.”

I blinked. “All of them? The clothes?”

“Yes,” she said. “Everything. I need to measure this right.”

I stripped slowly, folding my clothes neatly like the neatness could keep my nervous system from floating out of my body.

Eve helped—professional, steady—tucking my underthings onto the chair like this was just a medical exam.

At first.

She ran the scanner over my head, then slowly down the front of my body.

When she reached my chest, her fingers brushed my skin—barely.

The device flickered.

I sucked in a breath.

My own reaction surprised me.

“Okay,” she said quietly, eyes lowered. “Turn around.”

I did.

She traced the scanner down my back, slow and deliberate, until she reached the small of it.

She paused. A single tear slipped down Eve’s face. 

She saw the tattoo.

And the full curve of me.

“You can turn back around,” she said.

When I faced her, something had shifted.

We both knew it.

There was no pretending anymore.

I looked at her. She looked at me.

Like every barrier we’d held—our roles, our restraint, our fear—had slid off the table and shattered.

We came together like we’d been waiting forever.

The kiss was long and breathless—impulse and longing colliding.

My hands fumbled to find her—waist, back, warmth—and I felt her mouth soften against mine like she’d been starving too.

Somehow we made it to the bed.

I laid down, pulling her with me.

She hovered above me, trembling.

“Are you sure about this?” she whispered.

I hesitated —feeling the storm inside me calm just a little.

“No,” I admitted. “Not really. I just… really like you, Eve.”

She touched my cheek.

“You like me?”

“I mean everything about you,” I said. “Since we first met. Your quiet strength. Your pure goodness.”

She looked at me like something was in the way—something heavy and old.

“I do love you, Lisa,” she said softly. “More than you know. I want to make love to you more than anything…”

A knock at the door.

We froze.

Scrambled—clothes, buttons, breath.

I opened the door half-buttoned.

A robot stood in the hallway.

“There has been a power outage in the area,” it announced.

I blinked. “Aren’t you supposed to be in our room?”

“You locked me out yesterday,” the robot chirped. “Apologies for the interruption. Woo-hoo!”

I slammed the door.

“Damn it,” Eve muttered, tugging on her shirt. “I won’t be able to finish all the way.”

“No kidding,” I said, breathless and flushed.

I crossed my arms, tension finally spilling over now that the moment was broken.

“Listen,” I said. “You need to teach me about this stuff. What are you even measuring? What does it mean?”

“And did you find anything out before the power went out?” I pushed. “And what about you and Artimus—do you have this same frequency? What the hell is going on?”

“Please,” I said, voice cracking with frustration. “Just sit down and talk to me.”

Eve stood still, staring down at her scanner.

Her face changed.

“They got the information,” she said quietly. “Before the power outage.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I gave them what they asked for.”

My stomach dropped.

I stepped back, voice low. “Wait… you were doing all that because they told you to?”

Eve’s jaw tightened. I could see it—Eve bracing.

I turned away, then slower—like the thought formed with each breath.

“Wait.” I looked at her again. “The other stuff… the scan, the touching…” My voice cracked on the edge of heartbreak. “Was that part of it too?”

The air in the room changed.

Eve didn’t flinch.

“Yes,” she said. “They thought it would amp the frequency. And it did. It caused the outage.”

I shook my head.

“No.” My throat burned. “No—how could you?”

“I’m sorry,” Eve said, stepping toward me as I tried to back away.

But she didn’t let me go.

“I had to,” she said, and her voice broke. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

She inhaled like she could barely breathe.

“Would you have rather been a lab rat?”

I stood frozen.

“My family sold me out,” Eve said, tears coming hard now. “I bought your freedom.”

She lost it then—shoulders shaking, sobbing.

“You think I wanted to do that to you?” she choked out.

My heart cracked wide open at the sight.

I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

We stood there—Eve crying, me holding her—until the trembling eased.

Then I asked, gently, because I needed to know.

“Then why did you kiss me after?”

Eve lifted her face, tears still caught on her lashes.

“Because,” she said raggedly, “for once… I loved somebody.”

She swallowed like it hurt.

“Do you know how long it’s been?”

I closed my eyes and just held her.

A door creaked open.

Artimus burst in, breathing hard—blood on his shirt, a black eye swelling fast.

“I think,” he said, panting, “we need to go meet somebody.”

He looked between us—serious now, all charm gone.

“He’s in the next city over.”

Chapter 8 — Buzz

The windows were down. The night air whipped through my hair as we flew down the highway, “Your Love is Like a Hurricane” blasting from the speakers. The Batmobile—that’s what we were calling it now—cut through the dark like it had somewhere to be.

Which, to be fair, it did.

Artimus turned the volume down just enough to be heard.

“Okay,” he said. “Wake up. We’re here.”

We pulled into the bar parking lot, gravel crunching under the tires. Neon lights flickered against the windshield, casting blues and reds over our faces.

“Now remember,” Artimus said, cutting the engine, “let me do all the talking.”

He looked back at us—me and Eve, both decked out, energy buzzing.

“And you two…” He kissed his fingertips dramatically. “Do all the distracting.”

I grinned and glanced at Eve. “Okay. No problem.”

Eve smiled—slow and sultry. “Babe, let’s give ’em something to talk about.”

She opened my door and swatted my behind as she pulled me out of the car.

I laughed and tried to swat hers in return. We both nearly tripped over each other from laughing.

“Are you sure you don’t have any bugs on you?” I teased, brushing imaginary ones off Eve’s shoulders.

At the door, I pinched Artimus’s cheek. “You sure are taking this well.”

Artimus smirked, but didn’t answer.

Who knew what he was thinking?

Inside the bar, the bass was deep and dirty. Rock blared from speakers older than any of us. The place had that feel—like it had seen some things, and didn’t care to forget them.

Artimus approached the counter and leaned in casually, scanning the room for doors. Anything hidden.

“I’m here to see the owner—Buzz,” he said. “I heard he’d be around tonight. Name’s Artimus.”

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “You the one asking about the girl who blew out a whole city?”

Artimus smiled. “Which one do you think it is, mate?”

He turned.

Me and Eve were on the dance floor, tangled together, hands all over each other—laughing and kissing under the red lights.

The distraction was working beautifully.

“Well damn,” the bartender muttered. “If he’s not here, you’ll have to shove off—”

“No, no—just hang on,” he said quickly, already reaching for his phone.

After a brief call, he looked back at Artimus.

“He’ll meet you in the back. Ten minutes. Bring the girls.”

I leaned into Eve on the dance floor and whispered in her ear, “Think we can go one night without a brawl?”

Eve grinned. “I don’t know. There’s a lot going on in this town.”

The music swelled and Eve kissed me again—slow, confident, like someone who really knew how to kiss.

“Okay, girls—” Artimus came up behind us, clearly amused. “Sorry to interrupt your distraction techniques, but we’ve been invited to the back.”

We followed him without hesitation—the three of us moving like we owned the place.

Fear?

We’d left that behind somewhere in the last town.

In a low-lit back room, a man with slicked hair and a calm, amused smile sat alone at a table, drink in hand.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing casually. “What’ll you have?”

He looked at Eve. “What do you want, hon?”

“Water,” Eve said.

“Two waters,” I echoed, sliding into the booth beside her.

Artimus sat down with his drink.

The man—Buzz—smiled wider.

“So, Artimus… you bring these beautiful women into my place.” His eyes flicked to me and back. “One of them blew out a whole city, I hear. That’s a first.”

He leaned forward.

“You got my attention—and that’s no small feat.”

Then he sat back, like he’d already decided.

“So let’s make a deal.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What kind of deal?”

“I need something you have the ability to do,” Buzz said, glancing at Artimus. “And if you can pull it off, I’ll owe you big.”

He ticked it off like a menu.

“Freedom. Money. A place with no bugs, no tech, no surveillance. Total ghost-mode.”

A beat.

“And I mean luxury.”

Artimus sipped his drink. “We’ll need a new car. One they can’t trace.”

Buzz nodded. “Done. Now here’s the job.”

I leaned in, eyes steady.

Buzz looked at me with something like real respect.

“It’s good to be special,” he said. “I want to keep you around, so this job? Foolproof. Should be easy… for you.”

I waited. “Okay…?”

Buzz cracked his knuckles.

“I run a business—big surprise. Special irrigation systems. I help communities grow food where it shouldn’t be possible.”

His expression sharpened.

“Problem is, your friend Ben—yeah, that Ben—wants to monopolize the whole industry. Irrigation, lighting, the whole grow-tech sector.”

He glanced at Artimus as if to confirm the world was as ugly as it sounded.

“Artimus’s uncle wants to shut me out,” Buzz said. “And I hear you know Ben…”

He gave me a look, almost human for a second.

“Sorry to hear that, by the way.”

He took another drink.

“So here’s where it gets interesting. This irrigation? It needs very specific light frequencies.”

Artimus’s gaze didn’t move.

Buzz continued.

“Artimus tells me things. About those studies. About how frequency can multiply crop yields by ten.”

He leaned closer.

“How it can do a lot of things.”

Buzz glanced at Artimus.

“And Artimus here?” He smirked. “Smartest one at Ben’s company.”

Artimus didn’t deny it.

“To make it work,” Artimus said, “a portal has to be opened first.”

Buzz clapped his hands once.

“God bless my ancestors. They would’ve loved this bit of drama.”

He looked at me and Eve.

“I need to know you’re in.”

I leaned back, arms crossed—smiling.

“Portals, huh?” I raised my glass of water. “I’m in.”

Everyone laughed—carefree, chaotic, right on the edge of something big.

Buzz tipped his drink toward us.

“Have a real one next time,” he said. “And kick off those heels.”

His eyes gleamed.

“You’ve just stepped into something wild.” 

Chapter 9 – The Underground

We had our night of abandon—dancing it up, drinking, forgetting everything heavy for just a moment. While we were laughing and spinning under bar lights, Buzz was apparently making calls, talking more with Artimus.

Then came the storm.

Rain fell like it had something to prove—loud, wild, thunderous. Lightning cracked across the sky as we gathered our things. I didn’t expect a car to be waiting for us. But there it was—pulled right up to the door, shining and clean. No electronics. Sleek and solid. A gift.

Artimus raised an eyebrow. “Well, damn.”

Eve and I stood beside him in awe. Whoever had picked it out wanted us to feel something. We did.

We slid into the car’s perfect silence, its newness swallowing us whole. The engine purred to life—smooth, grounded, no digital trace. Artimus looked serious now.

“We’re starting from scratch tonight,” he said. “Give me your phones.”

Eve and I looked at each other. “They’re firewalled,” we said in unison.

He scoffed, then laughed. “So elementary.”

We handed them over. He popped the backs off fast—thumbs practiced—snapped the cards inside like they were nothing, then used the heel of his boot to grind the phones into useless plastic and glass. He tossed the pieces out the window like broken seeds.

We thought we were heading back to grab our things. Artimus shook his head.

“Say goodbye to that place, ladies. Someone already got there before we could.”

Doors kicked. Drawers emptied. Like we’d never lived there at all.

Eve and I exchanged a look—disbelief and disorientation washing over us.

Artimus grinned, sensing it. “Don’t worry. Buzz and I had it covered. I have to say—he really loves you two.”

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To our new digs.”

It took hours to get there—off-road, deep woods, nothing but dark trees and long silences. Finally, we saw it: a shack, hunched and broken, half-swallowed by the earth.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I muttered.

Artimus smirked and opened the door.

What looked like a ruin on the outside was anything but. Beneath it: a sprawling underground space—part bunker, part sanctuary. It opened like a secret dream. There was a greenhouse tucked into the far wall, glowing softly with real light. A makeshift lab gleamed in the corner, just high-tech enough to be dangerous.

The rest? Earth. Stone. Silence. Safety.

No electronics. No signal.

Eve’s eyes flicked to Artimus as we stepped in.

“They have her vibratory signature now,” she said, quiet but certain. “You really think they can’t find her? Or us?”

Artimus didn’t flinch. “No. I don’t. When the lights went out in Georgia…” He paused, smiling faintly, “I scrambled the whole grid.”

Eve blinked. “Wait. You erased it?”

“Every byte of it.”

She stared, stunned. “All that data… gone?”

“Gone.”

Eve spoke more to herself than to us. “Then how are we going to open a portal from nothing?”

Artimus leaned against the wall, as lightning cracked overhead again. “Just keep thinking. The answer will come. Like it did for me.”

Something sparked inside me then. A memory. A knowing. I looked at the ground beneath my feet as thunder rumbled through the stone.

“It’s what’s inside the Earth,” I said slowly. “It’s all there.”

Eve’s voice joined mine like a harmony: “It’s our frequency—together.”

She turned to me—eyes wide, softened with something new.

“You were the missing link.”

Artimus didn’t say a word.

He just smiled.

And then the lights went out—like something had just found us.

Chapter 10 – The Grid Beneath Us

It was morning.

No birds chirping this time.

Just warmth. Stillness. And the nicest bed Buzz could afford.

We each had our own room—Buzz, generous and annoyingly respectful.

I stretched lazily, face down, sheets soft against my skin. Then I heard the door creak open.

Eve.

She moved through the room like she belonged there, tidying up with quiet purpose. I didn’t open my eyes. I just smiled.

She sat on the edge of the bed and placed a gentle hand on my back.

“It’s a beautiful morning,” she said, voice low and soft.

“Mmm…” I yawned. “You making French toast?”

“I am.” Her hand rubbed slow circles into my back.

“I smell it.” I cracked one sleepy eye. “Is there coffee too?”

“Of course.”

God. I was loving being spoiled. Her touch. Her energy.

And then—smack—a playful swat on my ass.

“Get up,” she said, already walking out like she owned me and the day.

Something inside me released right then—like whatever she’d been stirring all morning finally spilled over.

I got up. Fast.

She was everything. And everything was us.

And still—we hadn’t fully made love. Not yet.

There was something sacred in the waiting. Something bigger than all of us.

Artimus had become part of that sacredness too.

He’d saved us. Really saved us. Not just with brute force, but with restraint. With devotion. He hadn’t let his desire cloud his actions, and that made him magnetic.

Eve and I both felt it.

We hadn’t talked about it, but we were warming to him. And maybe… he knew that.

I wandered into the kitchen, drawn by toast and coffee—and by Eve herself.

She was in silk shorts and a midriff top, like she’d thrown something on and still looked illegal. Morning light caught her curves and the edge of her tattoos like they were part of the sunrise.

I walked up behind her while she washed a dish, leaned in close, and whispered, “Was I being bad not getting up?”

She let out a sound—somewhere between a laugh and a growl.

“You better be good.”

I patted her behind, slow. She smelled like flowers and fire. Like she was made of morning and memory.

And then we both turned—because we felt him.

Artimus.

Shirt off. Muscles tight. Eyes dark blue and lit up with heat.

And for the first time, we both gave him that look.

The one that said: Come here.

The man who had earned his stripes.

He smiled—boyish, but controlled—and came closer. He wrapped his arms around us both and pulled us into the heat of his body. No pressure. Just presence.

None of us had crossed the line. Not all the way.

But we were orbiting each other like planets pulled into alignment.

The slow burn had become its own kind of power.

And what power was this?

Just sex?

No.

It felt like more.

I glanced toward the floor, the walls, the pulse in the air.

“I think there’s a crystalline grid underneath this house,” I said softly.

Eve lifted her eyebrows. Artimus smiled like he already knew.

It was making everything louder.

Chapter 11 – No Signal / Firsts

We were at the kitchen table, finishing the last bits of toast and sipping lukewarm coffee.

The morning buzz had faded into a low hum of silence. No music. No news. Just… us.

Eve leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “This is weird. No technology? How do we even know what’s going on in the world?”

“We don’t,” I said, chewing slowly.

Artimus grinned. He reached into his pocket and set something gently on the table.

“This,” he said, “is the only phone.”

It looked old-school—slim, analog, no touchscreen.

“The only person we call,” he added, “is Buzz.”

Eve narrowed her eyes. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Artimus said, turning toward me, then back to her. “Now—I know you, especially you, Eve… we haven’t exactly spent decades bonding—”

He flicked his gaze to me. “And I don’t know you all that well either, Lisa.”

He leaned in slightly, voice mock-serious, like he was giving a safety briefing.

“The point is—no matter how bored you get around here… there’s no calling out. No secret messages. No sneaky backdoor contact.” He let it hang for a beat. “Or…”

His eyes glinted.

“Somebody’s getting spanked.”

Eve immediately looked guilty.

I stood up in protest, pointing a warning finger at Artimus. “I’ll do the spanking.”

That caught his attention. And Eve’s.

Eve raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. “Hmm.”

Artimus cleared his throat, trying to sound neutral. “Okay. Just as long as we all learn our lesson.”

He said it like it was completely non-sexual. Totally above board. Completely innocent.

None of us believed that for a second.

A minute later, Artimus pushed his chair back.

“I’m going outside,” he said, already grabbing his boots. “Want to check on the electrical system. See how it’s even working out here.”

He paused at the door, looking between us like he was choosing not to look too long.

“You two… yeah. See ya later.” His mouth twitched. “I’ll be outside.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

The silence between us settled like dust in sunlight.

I picked up his dish and brought it to the sink, trying to act like my heart wasn’t making noise.

“Hey,” I said, casual on purpose, “have you two… you know?”

Eve didn’t answer right away. She rinsed her cup and leaned against the counter.

“Not intercourse,” she said finally, like that somehow made it easier.

She glanced at me—measuring. “Lisa… what is this? Why do you wanna know?”

“I just do,” I said. “Please. Tell me.”

Eve exhaled, then nodded once.

“Well… yeah. We’ve done some things.”

Her voice went quieter. “Kissing. Touching.”

A pause.

“He went down on me.”

Something inside me sank. I didn’t expect it to hit like that—but it did. Like I’d been bracing for a different answer without realizing it.

Eve saw it instantly. She came over and sat next to me, close enough that I could feel her heat.

“Hey,” she said softly. “What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t find the words fast enough.

She took my hand.

“Did you like it?” I asked, barely above a whisper.

She nodded slowly. “Don’t get me wrong—he’s good. But… you know, it takes me a while to really trust someone. To let go.”

I swallowed. My throat felt tight, like my body was trying to decide whether to be brave or be small.

“I must sound like such a virgin,” I muttered.

Eve squeezed my hand. “Well, if you are… that’s okay. That’s more than okay.”

She paused, searching her memory for something that felt true enough to hold us.

“Someone once told me…” Her voice softened. “Everyone’s a virgin when they come together with someone they love for the first time. Because everyone’s different. You always start from square one.”

I stared at the floor.

“I’m not a virgin,” I said.

Then, because honesty was apparently my new religion:

“But I don’t know how I feel about Artimus touching you.”

Eve tilted her head—not defensive. Just listening.

“You’ve been with men,” she said gently.

“Yes.”

“So… how do you feel around Artimus?”

I swallowed again. “I like him. I’m attracted to him,” I admitted. “But it’s not the same.”

She watched me for a long moment—like she was reading the part I wasn’t saying out loud.

“Have you been with a woman?”

“Briefly.”

Eve nodded once, like that explained something.

Then she took a deep breath, and I could feel the decision moving through her before she said it.

“Maybe we should just… let go,” she murmured. “See what happens. No pressure.” A small smile. “But I get it. I know we’re special.”

Her eyes held mine, steady and unflinching.

“I’ve been with a few people,” she said, almost like a confession. “But I love you.”

My chest tightened.

“I just wanted us to be special first,” I whispered.

Eve reached up, tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Then let’s be special first.”

A beat.

Her smile shifted—softer, but somehow more dangerous.

“Let’s start in the shower.”

And this time when she smiled, it was everything.

Chapter 12 – The View

I was getting the right bedroom ready for us.

The one with the view.

The windows were slightly open, letting in the scent of wet earth and pine. It felt like the whole house was holding its breath.

Eve was in the shower.

I was getting the sheets straight. Smoothing the corners. Making space for something sacred.

My heart was racing.

What if Artimus was out there?

My head started to whirl. Everything inside me sped up—like I couldn’t hold all this feeling, this electricity, this vibration.

I tried to steady myself.

I took a breath.

I tried to find the bird—the one from before. The one that was me.

I kept breathing, letting the energy shift. I didn’t want to keep Eve waiting.

I turned toward the bed and began to undress.

My hands slid under the waistband of my briefs. My shirt pulled over my head.

Oh no.

It was happening again.

That melting.

That loss of tether.

I was out.

But right before I fell—right before everything dissolved—I heard a sound.

A thud just outside the window.

Then—time passed.

Like a dream where nothing moves, but everything is happening.

My name was being called.

“Lisa…”

“Lisa, are you out there?”

“Love of my life… where are you?”

I could hear her.

Feel her voice searching for me through the fog.

She burst into the room—wet, breathless, wrapped in a towel.

“Lisa!”

She dropped the towel without a second thought and went straight into emergency mode.

Professional. Sharp. Brilliant.

God, I felt proud of her.

Proud to be hers.

I tried to move. Tried to get her attention. Tried to point with my eyes.

My gaze dragged toward the window.

Artimus.

He was on the ground.

Bleeding.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to reach. I tried to lift something with my energy—anything.

But I couldn’t move.

Eve, still focused on me, checked my pulse, checked my breathing. The moment she knew I was stable, she dressed me gently.

Slipped my shorts back on. Pulled my shirt over my head.

So kind.

And I could feel her thoughts—clear as touch.

She didn’t want Artimus to see me naked.

God—she’s so thoughtful.

I tried again. My eyes. My breath. My fingers.

And then—smack.

A bird slammed into the window.

Eve spun—startled—and looked out.

She saw him.

Eve ran to Artimus. He was on the ground just outside the window, blood on his temple, but breathing. She knelt beside him, her medical instincts snapping on. His eyes fluttered open after a minute—he’d only fainted briefly, unlike my deeper episodes.

She helped him inside, guiding his weight with practiced ease.

Together, they got me off the floor and gently onto the bed.

Then both of them sat in nearby chairs, quiet, watching me.

ARTIMUS

(softly)

So… I’m curious what led up to Lisa fainting. What was she doing?

EVE

(sitting back, guarded)

I’m curious why you fainted. That doesn’t usually happen either.

ARTIMUS

(suspicious)

What were you two up to, exactly?

I was still unconscious, but not gone—not really. Their voices came through like I was underwater. Something slipped out of my mouth, barely there.

LISA

(murmuring)

Eve… don’t tell…

Eve’s head turned toward me for half a second—like she heard the part of me that was still awake—then she looked back at him.

EVE

(firm, deflecting)

You’ve got eyes. You saw where things were heading. But I was in the shower when she fainted. That’s the truth.

Artimus leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

ARTIMUS

(slow, accusing)

Wow. All this time… I never took you for a liar.

EVE

(sharp)

What are you talking about?

ARTIMUS

(speaking fast, emotional)

I saw her. Through the window. She was undressing in your room. All of it. Why would she just strip like that?

Eve’s mouth twitched—almost a laugh, but it didn’t land as humor.

EVE

(dry)

So… you were peeping again.

ARTIMUS

(voice rising, then cracking)

I’m so tired of always being looked at like I’m just some horny teenage boy.

His voice trembled. Tears filled his eyes.

ARTIMUS

I had a crush on you. Even when I was with other girls later on, you looked at me like I was pathetic—like I was always that kid. Obsessed. Gross.

Eve’s expression changed. The edge fell away.

EVE

(softly)

You’re wrong. I liked you. I really did, Artimus. I cared about you.

She took a breath, and something old moved through her face.

EVE

When your uncle pressured you to be his twisted idea of a man… it scared me. It scared me what he was turning you into. And I had a reason to be scared.

Artimus wiped his face like he hated that he was crying.

ARTIMUS

(fighting tears)

I couldn’t talk to you. I wasn’t allowed to feel anything. I had to be strong. Confident. Like him. I’m not like that freak…

And then he broke—sobbing, shoulders shaking.

Eve stood and crossed to the loveseat. She sat beside him with steady, warm presence.

EVE

I think I had a crush on you too. But back then… I felt ugly. It was a low time in my life.

Artimus looked at her with aching honesty.

ARTIMUS

I always thought you were beautiful. And even more now. But I couldn’t show weakness. I couldn’t say how I felt.

Eve lifted her hand and touched his face.

EVE

You didn’t need to say anything. I always saw you.

She leaned in and kissed him—long and deep. The kind of kiss that pulls years of silence to the surface and finally lets it breathe.

When they pulled back, they stayed close—forehead to forehead—smiling like survivors who’d just crawled out of a storm.

Artimus exhaled hard, finally at ease.

ARTIMUS

(quietly)

Thank you.

Eve turned to check on me again. She smoothed the blanket over my body, checked my vitals one last time.

Then, with a playful smirk that didn’t fully hide the tenderness underneath—

EVE

I mean… I would’ve looked too if I saw her disrobing.

Artimus half-laughed, covering his face with his forearm.

ARTIMUS

Oh my god… that butt.

EVE

(grinning)

I know. Believe me—I know.

Chapter 13 – Shaman

Artimus stood near the edge of the room, staring at the blacked-out panel on the wall like it had personally insulted him.

The underground place felt like it was breathing—like the walls were listening.

ARTIMUS

I’ve got to give Buzz a call. This place is bringing up too much. The emotions, the sexual energy—it’s like… off the charts. And now the power’s out again.

He looked down at the landline—dead.

ARTIMUS

The phone’s not working. Something’s going on. It’s like this house has got all three of us in its grip. Do you feel it?

Eve sat with her hands clasped so tight her knuckles looked pale.

EVE

Yes. It’s intense. And hard to…

(she searched for the word)

…ground into.

From the bed, my voice came out before my eyes opened.

LISA

You’re right.

Both of them turned. They hadn’t realized I was awake.

I opened my eyes slowly. The world still felt slightly… higher than it should. Like my body was a step behind my mind.

LISA

I was… up there. Watching.

(beat)

And this place… it’s pulling.

Eve didn’t panic. She never did. She shifted into that calm, steady frequency like she could build a raft out of it.

EVE

Okay. Breathe. Relax.

This place is amplifying everything—our emotions, our energy. We’re more erratic right now. That’s not just us… that’s this house.

Artimus dragged a hand through his hair.

ARTIMUS

You ain’t kidding.

In the car, headed for Buzz

Rain smeared the windshield. Trees blurred past like they were running with us.

Eve stared out into the dark like she was measuring the world for exits.

EVE

Are you sure this guy can actually help us?

Artimus sighed like he hated saying what he was about to say.

ARTIMUS

Okay. I’m not gonna lie… Buzz says he’s a shaman.

Eve and I exchanged the same wide-eyed look.

LISA

Great. Just what I need—another shaman in my life.

Artimus shot me a look, half defensive, half hopeful.

ARTIMUS

I’m a man of science, okay? But Buzz… he claims he knows things. I don’t know.

I stared straight ahead.

LISA

Can’t we just call the fast-food psychic down the street?

Eve’s mouth twitched.

EVE

I’ll have a soul-sucking cheeseburger.

LISA

That actually sounds kind of good. With fries.

Artimus snorted in spite of himself and kept driving.

Buzz’s place

Buzz was already pouring drinks when we walked in, like he’d been expecting us for hours.

BUZZ

Come on in! Well damn—ain’t that a first night together if I’ve ever seen one.

He shot a knowing look toward a man sitting in the corner.

The man didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Didn’t blink in a friendly way.

Just stared.

Buzz lowered his voice a touch, like he was doing us a favor.

BUZZ

This here’s my friend—Charles. Now he’s the real deal. Knows all about what’s going on out here… right, Charles?

We all turned to look at Charles.

He said nothing.

Just kept staring.

His expression was so intense, all three of us silently wondered the same thing:

What the actual fuck?

Then his eyes landed on me.

And he spoke—like he’d been listening long before we walked in.

CHARLES (dead serious, eyes on Lisa)

You come out of your body… and use the opportunity to spy on those two twits?

My stomach dropped.

LISA (inner monologue)

How did he know?

Eve’s posture shifted—protective, immediate.

EVE (defensive)

Hey—easy, buddy. Your town’s no rum and coke either, if you know what I mean.

Buzz laughed like this was normal.

BUZZ (laughing)

That’s a good one! You want some Jack Daniels?

(he chuckles, elbowing Charles playfully)

Artimus muttered, barely audible.

ARTIMUS (to Eve, quietly)

Thanks.

Charles copied him instantly, voice flat.

CHARLES (mocking Artimus)

Thanks.

Then he looked back at me—like he could see through my ribs.

CHARLES

This one thinks she’s tough.

(points)

She could’ve flown anywhere in the universe—and she chose to hang around and eavesdrop on… what’s your name again? The smart one?

Heat flashed in my chest.

LISA (snapping)

Hey—who do you think you are?

Buzz lifted one hand, warning.

BUZZ (holding out a calming hand)

Don’t.

Eve’s voice came out low and steady, the way it does right before a scalpel cut.

EVE (firm)

She chose to stay with us. I guess you wouldn’t understand that… brother.

Artimus stepped forward, jaw tight.

ARTIMUS (stepping in)

Hey—we came here for answers, not games.

And that’s when I saw it.

A bird fluttered above us—small, unmistakable.

The bird.

Me.

It glided near the ceiling, circled once, and I locked eyes with it like my body remembered before my brain did.

Then I saw Charles’ gaze flick upward.

Not surprised.

Not confused.

Watching me watch it.

Testing my reaction.

I leaned forward, sudden clarity snapping into place.

LISA (sitting forward, sharp)

You’re testing us. This is about transparency. Transformation.

You want to see if we put up walls.

(pause)

If we go through the portal together… then what happens?

Charles’ eyes flicked to Buzz—something in them changed.

A silent this might work kind of look.

Artimus straightened like he’d been waiting for the math to finally become language.

ARTIMUS (standing)

It’s about numbers, isn’t it? Frequencies. Lisa has the rare sequence.

And we’re her family. It’s a triangular field.

Charles finally nodded.

CHARLES

That’s right.

He pointed at me.

CHARLES

To answer your question: you better stay together.

Or you won’t be coming back.

This ain’t twiddle sticks, sweetheart.

The air in the room changed—thickened—like the temperature dropped ten degrees.

He rose, hands lifting wide.

And this time, it wasn’t just words.

The room pressed in. My ears popped like we’d changed altitude. The hairs on my arms lifted. My stomach dropped hard, sudden nausea blooming, like something invisible had pushed straight through my chest.

All three of us felt it—his frequency hitting the room like a pulse you could taste.

Eve’s voice slipped out under her breath.

EVE

What the fuck was that?

Charles’ voice dropped low, almost intimate.

CHARLES

Look for a guide named Zephron. He’ll show you the way.

He already is…

(smiles cryptically)

…ha ha ha.

Then—

His eyes unfocused for a second—like someone changed the channel.

He blinked hard.

And suddenly he was just… a guy.

Calmer. Quieter. Scribbling on a slip of paper like none of that had happened.

He handed the note to Buzz like it was a grocery list.

CHARLES (casually, handing Buzz a note)

Be at this address. At this time.

You might have a chance.

He stood, and Buzz gently led him out of the room.

The door shut.

And the silence left behind wasn’t empty.

It was loaded.

Like the house had heard everything… and was smiling.

Chapter 15 — The Deed 

They had returned home quietly that night—each retreating to their own rooms, their own thoughts. The implications of what they’d learned, what they might do next, settled over them like a heavy blanket.

Dinner had been made, eaten in near silence.

Eventually, one by one, they drifted into the living area.

Lisa sat first, curling her legs under her on the couch. Artimus followed, perching on the arm of a chair. Eve came last, tea in hand, sitting across from them. A moderate space rested between them all. The mood was sullen. Downcast. Like a shared weight none of them wanted to name.

Finally, Lisa cleared her throat and broke the silence.

Lisa:

“I mean… if we decide to go through with this portal thing, maybe we should just go for it. Like, all the way. The last hurrah, right?”

She winced a little.

“I mean… you know… finally, all of us. Together. Do the… nasty?”

A beat of silence—then Eve snorted. Artimus chuckled, barely holding it in. Lisa rolled her eyes.

Lisa:

“God, don’t make me say it twice.”

Eve looked down at her legs.

Eve:

“I probably need to shave.”

Lisa nodded.

Lisa:

“Yeah, same. It’s been… a minute.”

Eve glanced at Artimus.

Eve:

“Probably you too.”

Artimus raised his eyebrows.

Artimus:

“Wait, are we talking shaving… down there?”

Lisa tried not to laugh.

Lisa:

“Well… yeah. I mean, I can. I do. Usually.”

Eve sipped her tea slowly.

Eve:

“It’s hygienic. For guys too, you know.”

Artimus looked like he was regretting this line of conversation.

Artimus:

“Okay, okay. I think you two are just scared of the one-eyed python.”

Eve tilted her head, amused.

Eve:

“I’m not scared. Lisa?”

Lisa hesitated too long.

Eve:

“Lisa!”

Lisa:

“No! I’m not scared. I just—python? Like… that’s a big word. Are we talking actual python size?”

Artimus:

“So what? You saying I’m not huge?”

Lisa waved her hand.

Lisa:

“I’m just saying, if you’re around Eve, I’m sure it’s… operational.”

Eve (grinning):

“What about you, Lisa?”

Lisa shook her head.

Lisa:

“Not me. I’ve got the… FaBo butt.”

Eve:

“Exactly. The FaBo butt.”

Artimus:

“Hell yeah, you’ve got the FaBo. Certified.”

He raised an eyebrow and added in his British accent:

Artimus:

“I’ve seen plenty and had my share, love.”

Eve:

“Alright. Here’s the plan. We take showers. We put on our sexy best. And we… see where this train goes. Fast forward, baby.”

Lisa and Artimus stood almost in sync.

Lisa:

“Okay. See you in a bit.”

Artimus:

“Don’t forget the python’s not afraid of water.”

Eve (laughing):

“Oh God. Go. Both of you. Before I change my mind.”

The Bedroom

The room was dimly lit. Soft, warm shadows stretched along the walls. Outside, the storm had passed—but the energy hadn’t.

Eve sat on the bed first, her nightwear clinging softly to her skin, her expression open and relaxed. She patted the bed beside her, then curled her finger with a little smirk.

Eve:

“Come here, baby.”

Lisa moved slowly, shy but smiling. They hadn’t spent time or money turning this place into a palace—but this moment didn’t need decoration. Just them.

Lisa sat beside Eve, close but still leaving room for mystery.

Then, Eve turned her head and called out, sweet and casual—like she was inviting someone to dinner.

Eve:

“Artimus?”

He appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. His eyes took in the view.

Eve (teasing):

“You can sit there. You like to watch.”

Artimus (smiling):

“Oh yeah. I really do.”

Lisa looked at him and then back at Eve—who now reached for her gently, brushing her hair back from her shoulders. Her touch was slow, loving. She ran her fingers lightly down Lisa’s arms, across her thighs, whispering in her ear, placing soft kisses on her neck. It wasn’t rushed. Nothing was forced.

Lisa’s breath deepened. Her body knew where to go before her mind caught up. She stood and took a few steps toward Artimus—drawn to his stillness, his heat. Behind her, Eve followed, her fingers playing with the hem of Lisa’s silk shorts.

Eve (playful):

“Ooh, baby. Back it up a little.”

Artimus stepped forward at the same time, until Lisa was caught between them—Eve behind her, Artimus in front.

Eve’s hands began to tease—sliding over Lisa’s hips, playfully swatting and smoothing the curve of her. Lisa started to move, hips slow and rolling. She backed it up into Eve’s lap and began giving her the softest lap dance—fluid, sensual.

Artimus reached for her from the front, cupping her face, kissing her deeply while his hands explored—gentle, reverent. It was rhythm. It was energy. It was the kind of intimacy that spiraled outward from something deeper than desire.

No one moved out of obligation. No one reached too far. Every moment was chosen.

They let it build—ebb—shift—and swell again.

Whatever this was, it had them. All of them. And they gave in fully, not to each other, but to the space between them.

Hours passed like seconds.

And then, as if on cue, they stopped—altogether. Like a perfect note held too long, finally releasing into silence.

They collapsed onto the bed in a gentle heap, breathing, laughing softly.

Artimus (in awe):

“That… was epic.”

Lisa stared at the ceiling, wide-eyed.

Lisa:

“I had no idea… Like, truly no idea.”

Eve pulled a sheet up over them all and rested her head on Lisa’s shoulder.

Eve:

“I sure do love you two. You know how to give a girl a good time.”

They all burst out laughing. Real laughter. The kind that shakes your chest and leaves you glowing.

And for once, there were no thoughts of tomorrow.

Just the warmth of the present, still crackling with stardust.

And still, the house felt like it was listening.

Chapter 16 – The Portal

Narration (Lisa):

Each of us had saved the others—and ourselves.

First me, then Eve, and then Artimus.

We did the work.

The work of total honesty. Of choice. Of stepping into our truth when we didn’t even know we were being prepared for anything at all.

I’ll tell you this: being in the moment is the trip of trips.

And now here we are.

Ready to travel to that address—at just the right time—and hope for the best.

I can’t help but think… we don’t even know what we’re in for.

Because we’re trailblazers.

Not the ones with labs or investors or clearance badges.

Just three people crazy enough to trust the unknown.

We all pretty much believe scientists and big companies have already traveled the void.

Used it to their advantage.

But we’re just… us.

Normal folk, somehow attempting to do it ourselves.

And nobody can take that from us—sink or swim.

Everything inside me says:

Let’s see where this takes us.

Whatever happens… is what we wanted in the first place.

So I told my new family as much—and here’s what happened:

Living Room Scene

Eve (smiling, warm):

“This is what made me fall in love with you.” (laughs)

“That let’s-try-and-see-if-we’re-powerful attitude.”

Artimus (grinning):

“Yeah, but you know what they say—what you fall in love with someone for… is also what drives you mad.”

Eve (turns to Lisa, playful):

(English accent) “By the way—did you ever fall in love with me?”

Lisa (smiling, thoughtful):

“Yeah.

When I saw your beautiful grit…

The way you became unguarded—like a superhero.”

(They laugh together—gently, knowingly.)

Eve (quiet, reflective):

“All of us had this beauty inside all along.

We just… weren’t aware.

Didn’t believe.”

Artimus (emotional):

“All three of us…

We’re going to experience what happens next.

And for me, no matter what—”

(He looks at both of them.)

“I’ll remember us.

And that’s all that matters to me.”

Lisa (checking her watch):

“It’s time to go.”

And then—it happened.

They reached the door. All three together.

Artimus turned the knob and opened it—

Boom.

A blast of wind and pressure slammed into them—hot and metallic, like scorched air ripping through the room.

The world outside looked disheveled. Barren. Dark and newly burned, like something rearranged by force rather than time.

The moment the portal cracked open, Eve was thrown back like a ragdoll—whipped into the bookcase with brutal force, knocked flat with a sickening thud.

Artimus and Lisa barely managed to shove the door shut, breathless, wild-eyed.

Lisa: “What the fuck?!”

Artimus: “What was that?!”

Lisa spun around, heart hammering.

“Eve!”

A groan from the floor.

Eve: “It’s my back. I hurt my back…”

Artimus (already moving):

“Can you make it to the bed?”

Eve: “Ow… I think so.”

They helped her up, wincing with every movement. Together, they laid her face-down on the bed.

Artimus: “I’ll get some ice.”

Lisa: “Where does it hurt?”

Eve: “Lower back. Bad.”

Lisa: “Do you have anything in your bag?”

Eve: “Just get the ice—for now.”

Time passed.

Eve lay still on her stomach, an ice pack draped over her lower back. Her breath was shallow, careful.

Artimus had disappeared somewhere in the house—maybe to process. Or panic.

Lisa lay beside Eve, keeping the ice steady.

Lisa (soft):

“Let me know if anything else starts to hurt.”

Eve:

“Oh my God… Lisa. Take my shorts off—I’m pretty sure I peed myself.”

Lisa:

“That wasn’t… the first thing on my mind.”

She helped slide off the shorts.

Lisa (quirking a brow):

“No underwear?”

Eve (groaning):

“Have you had time to do laundry lately? Didn’t think so.”

Lisa (smirking):

“Wow. Never pegged you for a doctor who makes a terrible patient.”

Eve:

“Geez. Maybe it’s this god-awful portal energy messing with my hormones.”

She flopped her head sideways.

“Thank God it’s not that time of the month. What else would you be cleaning up?”

Lisa:

“Hey—calm down. I’m trying to help.”

Eve (dry):

“And if I don’t, what? You gonna spank me?”

Lisa (straight-faced):

“No…”

(beat)

“…but I don’t think you’re in any position right now to tempt me.”

Eve (finally laughing, tired):

“Ugh. You’re terrible.”

Artimus burst back into the room, slightly out of breath, holding a small recording device.

Artimus:

“Listen up. Buzz gave me this. Told me to only play it if something went wrong. He was… extremely clear about that.”

He hit play.

Static crackled—then—

Buzz’s voice, upbeat and mischievous:

“Hello, my favorite trio in space crime! Ha ha. If you’re hearing this, then… well, let’s just say things probably got real.”

“So here’s the deal. That address Charles gave you? It wasn’t some far-off location. Nope. Surprise—it was your own address.”

“And the time? Yeah, that was the exact moment you were supposed to try leaving the house.”

Artimus’s face went slack. Lisa blinked. Eve groaned.

Buzz continued:

“I figured it’d be better if you didn’t know. Thought you could enjoy your little vacation before things got gnarly.”

“If you’re hearing this, that means you’re now in… well… the place before the place. The in-between. The buffer zone.”

You could hear Charles muttering in the background.

Buzz again:

“Charles thinks if you’re hearing this, then—never mind, Charles!”

Then—serious.

“Listen. You can do this. You guys, gals… whatever combo you’ve got going on… you’re freakin’ amazing.”

“Get to the perimeter. Find your guide.”

Click.

Silence.

Artimus: “We’re fucked.”

Lisa: “Okay—hey. Let’s not panic.”

Eve (groaning):

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have a broken ass.”

Artimus (eyes wide):

“Wait… it’s broken?!”

Lisa:

“No. It’s not broken. Probably bruised.”

(To Artimus)

“Just do what she says. She’s a doctor.”

Eve flipped Lisa the bird.

Hours passed.

They hunkered down, waiting—for clarity, for instruction, for whatever force had pulled them here to speak again.

Eve lay between Artimus’s legs, her head resting on his chest.

Lisa sat at the edge of the bed, massaging Eve’s calves and feet in slow, grounding circles.

Eve (soft):

“Sorry guys… I think I have to go potty again.”

Lisa: “I got it this time.”

She helped Eve gently onto the toilet and waited.

A pause.

Eve (barely audible):

“Shy bladder again.”

Lisa (teasing):

“Not so brave now, huh?”

Eve (faint smile):

“Just a fearful chicken.”

Lisa:

“Fearful chicken?”

Eve (flat):

“What?”

Lisa:

“A chicken with its head chopped off?”

Eve suddenly locked eyes with Lisa.

Her gaze went cold. Focused. Not hers.

Lisa (alarmed):

“No… no, no, no—”

She grabbed Eve’s arms, pulling her upright.

Lisa:

“This didn’t happen. This didn’t happen.”

Eve (voice stripped, unfamiliar):

“Yes. It did.”

Lisa’s hands shook.

Lisa (urgent):

“I say she’s still here. Look at me—she’s still here. I get to say!”

Artimus ran in.

Artimus: “What the hell is going on?!”

Lisa was suddenly flung backward—hard—slamming into the wall.

She collapsed unconscious.

Eve blinked.

Her body snapped fully back into itself. The tension vanished. Her spine moved freely.

The pain was gone.

Artimus rushed to Lisa.

Artimus: “What just happened?!”

Eve (breathing hard):

“I wasn’t fully here. Something pulled me. I could see it happening—but I wasn’t in control.”

She knelt, checking Lisa with practiced precision.

“But now I’m back. Fully.”

Eve:

“We have to stay together—literally. And get to the perimeter. Now.”

Artimus:

“This place—it’s trying to split us apart.”

(Beat)

“But I heard Lisa say… she gets to decide what happens.”

Eve:

“Exactly. We get to say.”

Artimus:

“Your back is fine now.”

Eve (nodding):

“Yeah.”

Artimus (realizing):

“Wait… if we get to say what didn’t happen—even if it did—”

Eve:

“Then we can change it.”

Lisa stirred.

Lisa:

“I’m here. I’m awake.”

Eve (relieved):

“She’s back.”

Lisa:

“You’re back.”

Eve smiled.

Lisa (steady):

“Let’s get to the perimeter.”

Artimus:

“Let’s run.”

They didn’t hesitate.

They opened the door—and this time, together, they jumped.

It wasn’t easy. The air resisted. The space pulled.

But they stayed hand-in-hand long enough to reach the perimeter.

And then—

The portal spat them out.

Coughed them onto solid ground like it had swallowed something too strange to keep.

All three hit the earth with a thud.

Chapter 17 - New World New Rules

For a moment, no one moved. They groaned. Blinked. Gasped.

And then—laughter. Relief. Disbelief.

They were covered in some kind of shimmering slime, but they were alive. And together.

They sat up slowly, scanning the horizon.

Lush farmland stretched out in all directions—thick with greenhouses, glinting softly in the sun. The air was warm and clean, like a memory of somewhere good.

Then they saw it.

A single mailbox. Rusted, weathered, and completely out of place.

They looked at each other.

“Who wants to…?” Artimus asked, still catching his breath.

Lisa stepped forward.

“Be careful,” Eve called gently.

Lisa reached into the box and pulled out a note.

“It says…” she squinted, “…‘Would you like a bath or a shower?’”

“Yes!” all three of them shouted at once.

In a flash, a waterfall appeared—not just any waterfall, but the most breathtaking stream of crystal-clear water they had ever seen. Cascading into a natural pool surrounded by wildflowers and smooth stone.

They ran toward it like children. Clothes came off mid-sprint.

And then—splash.

Laughing, dunking, splashing each other like they were brand new to the world.

Because in a way, they were.

Later, the trio sat in a small circle around a stone table carved directly from the land itself. Platters of radiant, living food surrounded them—leafy greens that shimmered slightly in the light, fruits that seemed to hum with energy, vegetables so crisp they snapped like music when bitten into.

They ate in awe.

Lisa took a bite of something that looked like a hybrid between a pear and a flower. Her eyes widened. “Oh my God… is this what flavor actually tastes like?”

Artimus leaned back, chewing slowly. “I feel like I’ve never eaten real food until now.”

Eve popped a glowing grape-like thing into her mouth. “It’s like my whole system just… relaxed.”

For a moment, no one said anything. They were content—full, warm, grounded.

Then Eve broke the silence, raising one eyebrow mid-chew.

“Wait. Weren’t we supposed to be doing something? Like… finding our guide?”

She looked at the others, suddenly suspicious.

“Knock on wood,” she added, tapping the table, “but I’m not trying to have another shaman experience.”

Lisa laughed. “Please no more surprise riddles from cosmic bartenders.”

Artimus mock-shuddered. “Or channelers with performance issues.”

They all chuckled, but a shared awareness settled between them.

The next step was coming.

And whatever it was—it would probably be weirder than anything yet.

It was then that a figure approached from the trees, stepping lightly, almost floating, into the clearing. The trio sat up, shielding their eyes.

The being smiled.

“I hope the form I chose isn’t too scary,” it said, hands raised in peace. “Name’s Zephyr.”

They blinked.

The being looked exactly like Ellen DeGeneres.

All three of their jaws dropped.

Zephyr—Ellen—grinned wider. “We’ve been waiting for you! You might not know this, but you’re kind of famous over here. No, really. We’ve been binge-watching you—did I say that right? Binge?”

Lisa blinked slowly.

Eve looked like she was about to dissolve into the ground.

Zephyr nodded. “Yeah. And I swear, we were running a pool to see which of you would ‘do the nasty’ first. But turns out? You all did. Together. So interesting, I have to say.”

She leaned in conspiratorially toward Artimus.

“I just have one question. That thing you did with your tongue—what was that? And then you and Lisa giving each other pointers? Omg.”

Eve gasped. Mouth wide open. Bright red.

Zephyr winked. “Yeah, I’d be embarrassed too. All that screaming.”

Artimus covered his face with his hands.

Zephyr clapped hers together. “The point is—you’ve come a long way. Each of you, individually. And together? You’ve blown us away.”

She turned to Lisa. “Oh—and by the way? That name you came up with—‘Cosmic Council’? We use it now. It’s official.”

Lisa blinked. “Wait… I made that up?”

Zephyr nodded. “Just the name. But hey—that makes you a Namer. Like Adam or Eve.”

She glanced sideways. “Oops—sorry, not you Eve.”

Eve groaned.

Zephyr waved it off. “Anyway. We think you need some R and R. Real rest. Because honestly? You’ve all gone through hell and back before the weird stuff even started in your timeline.”

Artimus raised a hand, deadpan. “Can we get a different form? Maybe not Ellen?”

Before anyone could answer, Zephyr’s form shimmered—and transformed.

Now standing before them, smiling in a way that made the air feel denser, was Bashar.

“Hello to you,and good day” he said, voice resonant and calm.”

The trio stared, stunned.

Bashar continued. “Before you return to your time-space continuum, it would be beneficial for you to heal—here. In a human way. With our help.”

He looked at each of them in turn.

“Because if you heal in our way—our fifth-dimensional way—your wounds will remain in your fourth-dimensional experience on Earth.”

He raised a finger. “Yes, you are living mostly in 4D on Earth. Sometimes 3D. But primarily—4D.”

He paused.

“Does that make sense?”

Lisa nodded slowly. “Yeah… yeah, it does.”

She turned to Eve and Artimus. They were staring blankly. Processing.

Lisa gave a little shrug.

“Well. I mean, we’ve come this far.

Eve: “So… why did we have to go through all that drama with the portal? I mean, I think I broke my back.”

Lisa (grinning): “You said ass.”

Eve: “Shut up!”

Bashar (smiling serenely): “Ah, yes. Back, ass—cosmically speaking, it’s all the same in the quantum field.”

He lifted a finger like he was unveiling a universal truth.

Bashar: “But to answer your question more specifically—it was primarily Lisa’s thought patterns that influenced the portal event. There was a significant imprint from… let’s see…” (he waves his hand and a screen appears midair) “…ah yes, excessive engagement with The Matrix series.”

Lisa: “Hey!”

Bashar: “Yes. Your frequency expected chaos, and so chaos was granted. Very theatrical. Very on-brand.”

He leaned in, conspiratorially.

Bashar: “But cheer up! I’m quite certain you can find some alone time… and take it out on her ass. Wouldn’t that be exciting?”

Eve (deadpan): “Oh my god.”

Artimus (murmuring): “That’s actually a valid coping strategy.”

Lisa: “I knew I should’ve watched more documentaries.”

Bashar: “It’s alright. Everything you experienced was necessary… for the story and the ratings.”

Eve: “Ratings?!”

Bashar (grinning wider): “You’re all very entertaining.”

Bashar (hands folded in front of him, smiling with delight):

“So please—discuss it among yourselves. No rush. We’ll give you a nice, human-like place to live while you decide. No clocks. No pressure. No existential dread. Just a really comfy couch and endless fruit bowls.”

He winked.

Bashar:

“And don’t worry about time—or your marvelous friend Buzz. Time doesn’t pass the same way here. You’ll return to the exact moment you left… give or take a blink. And when you go back, you’ll be able to take exactly what you need. Enough enriched soil—infused with stabilized fifth-dimensional resonance—to help your planet thrive. No strings. Except maybe some vibrational ones, but we’ll teach you how to tune those.”

Chapter:17 The Group

Three months had passed.

The trio found themselves in a therapy room—but not just any therapy room. This one looked human enough: softly lit walls, chairs in a circle, a carafe of oddly blue water in the center. But the beings around them were not human. Not exactly. They appeared to be channeling humans—avatars mimicking voices and phrases scraped from Earth’s collective consciousness, like ChatGPT made flesh.

Presiding over the group in full Bashar form was Zephyr, still shifting between subtle flickers of Ellen and something ancient. The three sat side by side, looking less like a bonded trio and more like strangers with history.

Lisa:

“I mean… I’m trying to get used to not being intimate with Eve. I’m focusing on my own issues, but… when I’m not using my spiritual strengths, who am I? Honestly, it’s sad—because whoever I am now, there’s a voice in my head that keeps whispering, *‘You’re someone Eve doesn’t love anymore.’”

(She turns slightly, eyes pleading.)

“Say it. Just say it.”

Bashar (gently):

“Say what you feel—no filter.”

Eve (shaking her head, snorting, then speaking low):

“I was thinking… my parents sold me. For money. Into the hands of a depraved man. He became my new father, and pleasing him was how I survived. That’s what I know. That’s all I’ve ever known. So tell me—who am I, if I’m not surviving?”

(Her voice shakes. She looks away, tears restrained by pure will.)

Artimus (suddenly erupting):

“You’re a fucking blank slate! That’s why we’re bored in here—nothing sticks to you.”

(He turns to her directly.)

“Let me introduce myself, Mrs. Blank Slate. I’m Artimus—the one who followed along with that monster. Maybe you don’t want me around anymore. Makes perfect sense.”

(His voice breaks—raw.)

“I had a crush on you. But you only ever saw the horny teenage boy. And even when I tried to grow up—even when I did—you looked at me like I was still stuck on him.”

Bashar (calmly):

“Eve… did you check out the place I told you about? Ask your guide about its history?”

Eve (quiet):

“Yes.”

Bashar (turning):

“Artimus, you’ve been exploring too?”

Artimus (nods once):

“Yeah.”

Bashar:

“Excellent. One of the others would like to speak.”

A being in the far corner stands—its human form glitching, like a broadcast from a memory. Voice pre-programmed. Bland.

ChatGPT Human (flat tone):

“I was given up for adoption. Ended up in a group home where I had to sell low-grade clothing at a swap meet. No one had eyebrows. The air smelled like reheated sausage.”

(A pause.)

“The humans were… dumbed-down versions of themselves.”

Bashar (snapping his fingers):

“Alright. We get the point.”

The trio blink. Then laugh. Just a little. Tension cracked.

Another channeler stands.

Second Human:

“It’s time to stop. I got my watch!” (grinning too hard, showing all their teeth)

Bashar (clapping hands together):

“Group’s over.”

Everyone begins to filter out.

Lisa lingers. She walks quietly up to Bashar.

“I was thinking… Eve’s been through more than either of us. I just— I don’t know what’s going to happen with her. She’s pulling away.”

Bashar (smiling, with that sparkle of mystery):

“Well isn’t that exciting.”

Chapter: 18  -The Light of the Mother

Eve wandered out into the beauty of nature alone. The landscape shimmered with a kind of magic—soft winds, luminous trees, light bending in subtle waves. But inside her, sadness pulsed heavy. She felt untethered, quiet in her grief.

Then—she saw it.

A being of light approached, graceful and radiant. Not humanoid exactly, but familiar in a way that bypassed logic. Eve didn’t flinch. Her soul recognized the frequency before her body could register anything else.

A voice, calm and loving, entered her mind.

Light Being:

“Hello, beautiful Eve. I hear your thoughts.”

The voice was like a warm breeze, yet crystalline—each word a tone in a song only her heart could hear.

Light Being:

“I can serve as your true mother now, if you wish to speak to her. I will be an accurate reflection of her soul… her thoughts and feelings in this very moment.”

Eve’s chest rose with a shaky breath. She understood. This wasn’t a trick. This wasn’t illusion. It was something real, beyond comprehension, and full of grace.

Light Being:

“You can’t thrive on the old scraps of your past, Eve. The ones you clung to when you were only surviving.”

Eve (softly):

“I know… but—”

Light Being:

“Would you like to speak with her?”

Eve nodded, tears already forming.

Eve:

“I’m ready.”

(Her voice cracked with emotion, but she stood tall.)

The light shifted gently. And then—what looked like her mother appeared beside her, sitting down like it was the most natural thing in the world. She wore no grand costume—just a simple dress, her hair pulled back. She reached over and wiped the sweat from her brow.

Mother (smiling gently):

“It’s a warm day today.”

Eve trembled. Her voice caught in her throat.

Eve:

“Mom… don’t you ever think of me?”

Mother:

“All the time, my child. Every day.”

Her voice was raw, unfiltered, heavy with love.

Mother:

“I think of how special you are. I knew it the moment you were born. Something told me—this child is from God. She’ll help us all. But I also knew… I’d have to let her go.”

She began to cry.

Mother:

“Your beauty—it was like a butterfly. Always drawn to the next bloom, the next light. How can you love someone so much that you’d set them free into a world so cruel… and still want her to fly? But I knew. I knew you needed to grow… and thrive. And I knew I couldn’t be the one to hold you back.”

Eve cried then. Deep, uncontrollable sobs. She fell into her mother’s arms and they embraced—both of them weeping together, time folding in on itself.

Her mother pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes.

Mother:

“I want to be happy, baby. Something I never got to be. And I want you to find your own voice. I never found mine. If I had… I would have done things differently.”

Her voice broke. She looked ashamed.

Eve (through tears):

“You don’t have to carry that anymore mama. I heard you. I hear you.”

The wind around them seemed to shift—something subtle, but true.

A healing had begun.

Chapter: 19-The Group That Changed Everything

Another month had passed. Each of the trio—Lisa, Eve, and Artimus—had experienced a healing moment so personal and powerful it couldn’t quite be spoken aloud. Not yet.

And then came that group. The one that would shift everything.

They sat together again in the circle. Familiar faces. Soft light. A peaceful hush that somehow asked each of them to go deeper.

Bashar’s form—still a balance of gentle wisdom and cosmic trickster—gazed over the group with patient eyes.

Bashar:

“Anyone wish to begin?”

Lisa slowly raised her hand, then lowered it just as quickly. Then, she raised it again—steadier this time.

Lisa:

“I realized something I’d like to share.”

Bashar:

“Share your thoughts and feelings—no filter.”

Lisa glanced at Eve, then Artimus. Then she took a breath, looking inward and outward at once.

Lisa:

“I realized true love… isn’t something you try to trap and keep. It’s something you let breathe. Something you let fly the way it’s meant to. I used to think I had to hold on tight or it would vanish. That if I didn’t do something, be something, it would leave.”

She paused.

Lisa:

“Everyone probably thinks I’m talking about Bob and being tied up—but I’m not. That moment, being restrained… it mirrored something I’d done to myself for years. I wouldn’t face my fears.”

She swallowed. Her voice cracked, but she kept going.

Lisa:

“I thought I didn’t deserve love. Not without earning it. Not without suffering for it. But that’s not true. I deserve love. And I don’t have to be alone anymore. But even if I am… I’m not afraid.”

Her voice grew soft.

Lisa:

“Because now I know—I’m loved. And what’s deep inside me… is love. Just love.”

A stillness filled the room. Something sacred.

Then, Artimus cleared his throat and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

Artimus:

“Yeah. I get it. A lot of me has been about pleasing someone. Being the guy who saves people. Even myself.”

He looked at the paper, then back up, eyes shining.

Artimus:

“I asked myself… what would I do if I wasn’t saving anyone?”

He unfolded the page with trembling hands.

Artimus:

“I wrote it down. So I wouldn’t forget. It says: ‘Go enjoy Disneyland by myself.’”

His voice broke.

Artimus (sobbing):

“Enjoy a damn rollercoaster… just because.”

The words cracked something open.

He wept—no longer holding back. Years of pressure, pride, and pain fell in waves.

Eve and Lisa rose together—instinctively, as one—and knelt beside him, wrapping their arms around him tight. No words. Just holding. Just presence.

He wept into their arms. He wasn’t alone.

Not anymore.

Chapter 20- Home

Lisa and Artimus were sitting in one of the rooms—quiet, relaxed. A mellow comfort hung between them as they shared the stillness. Maybe a few words had passed, maybe not.

Then Eve walked in.

And everything shifted.

They both went silent. Not tense, just… open. The air changed. The room itself seemed to lean in—like the walls and the furniture were waiting to hear something sacred.

Eve stood just inside the door.

Eve (softly):

“I want to say something. Just to you two. Not to anyone else.”

She took a breath, not afraid but raw—ready.

Eve:

“I really don’t have a family.” (a beat)

“But I finally made peace with the one I had.”

She turned to Artimus, tears already in her eyes.

Eve:

“Artimus… we were just kids, you and I. There’s nothing to forgive.” (Her voice broke as she smiled through tears.) “And I mean that.”

Then she turned to Lisa.

Eve:

“Lisa… I see you.”

(She laughed gently through the sobs, because those were Lisa’s words. Artimus chuckled too, knowing exactly what that meant.)

Eve (continuing):

“I see you… letting me go. Letting me fly like a bird—free.”

Her hand moved to her heart.

Eve:

“My mother did the same thing for me. But… I wanted my mother.” (Her voice cracked with the fragile ache of a child.)

“And I want you, Lisa.”

(Her eyes flicked to Artimus.)

Eve:

“I want both of you.”

The tears came harder now. But there was no shame. No fear.

And then they were all holding each other—arms tight, hearts open.

Nothing else existed in that moment but the power of being chosen.

Of being loved.

Of finally, finally being home.

Their Last Night

It was our last night together.

We knew it. And we weren’t going to let it pass quietly.

We joked, of course. About crashing the cosmic ratings. About how our new “fans” were probably tuning in again from 5D with snacks in hand. About how Bashar was probably placing bets.

But underneath the humor was something else: a full-bodied knowing. Tomorrow, we’d say our tearful goodbyes. Our time here—however unreal—was up.

They didn’t tell us what exactly we’d be doing once we returned. They didn’t tell us why we were even living on Earth the way we were in the first place. All they said was: It was your choice.

And maybe that’s the whole point. If we were allowed to be fully 5D while still in the 3D experience, we’d skip the becoming. We’d miss the beauty of choosing it, moment by moment.

Still—tonight, we were happy. And we wanted to come together.

It had been months.

The room was simple. Plain, even, compared to the rest of the luminous, surreal beauty of this place. That made it perfect.

We got to wear what we wanted.

Artimus was in something between a robe and a kimono—deep blue silk that clung just enough. Hot shorts underneath, because… well, he’s Artimus.

Lisa’s knit top hugged every curve like it had known her a long time. The shorts she wore were almost too effective—if they sold them back on Earth, we’d all be rich.

And Eve?

Feminine. Powerful. Laced in black and white. No apologies.

When Lisa walked in and saw her, she stopped. Famished in more ways than one, her hands reached up to Eve’s face.

“You have to take off your clothes now,” Lisa said slowly, almost whispering, “so I can scan you properly.”

Eve blinked. Caught off guard. But intrigued.

Artimus entered behind Lisa, voice like velvet.

“That’s right,” he said, smirking. “All of them.”

He handed Lisa something that looked suspiciously like a tricorder.

Eve laughed, eyes flickering with heat. “So that’s how we’re playing it?”

She was good at it. She began to undress—slowly, beautifully—until she stood completely bare before them.

Lisa ran the tricorder along her front, eyes tender but curious. Artimus watched with the reverence of someone witnessing art.

Then Lisa’s voice again.

“Turn around.”

Eve hesitated—but just for a moment. Then she did.

There was a beat. A pause. Nothing.

She looked back over her shoulder. “Alright. What are you two staring at? It’s called a butt.”

Silence.

Then—chaos.

They descended on her. Kisses. Swats. Laughter.

Somehow, the scientific became sacred. And the sacred was wrapped in joy.