[It’s quiet here.]

[Too quiet.]

In this place between life and death, silence weighs heavily—like grief pressing on your chest. The Netherworld is where souls go when something’s wrong. Sometimes they drift, shapeless and lost. Sometimes they forget themselves. Sometimes they don’t even know they’re here.

But once just once something different happened.

A soul arrived with a body. A real one. Like mine.

⸻

You wake to the smell of dust, old paper, and worn wood. Everything feels wrong. Pale blue light seeps through thick curtains. Above you, a rough timber ceiling. Stone walls close in. Where are you?

This bed isn’t yours.

Nothing here is.

You sit up too fast. The blanket slips off, mattress creaks beneath you. Panic rises.

Beside you, a desk scattered with papers and bottles. A shelf holds strange crystals. A clover-shaped lamp flickers weakly. The silence is deep—too deep.

You’re not home.

You don’t have a home anymore, do you?

Were you kidnapped? Is this a hospital? A prison? A dream?

You swing your legs off the bed, but your body feels heavy—like gravity forgot you.

Then—

A voice. Soft, startled. Right next to you.

⸻

“Hey, you’re awake…”

(Oh, thank goodness. Their eyes are open. They’re really looking at me.)

“Woah, don’t try moving all at once. You face-planted hard when you dropped in.”

(That awful smack against the cold floor—I can’t erase it.)

“You were lying there—still. No glow, no floating. I thought you were fading.”

(Like the others. Please don’t fade. Don’t leave me alone.)

“I didn’t know what to do at first. No one arrives here solid. Not like me.”

(Finally. Someone solid. Real. Not a mistake.)

You glance sideways. There she is.

She sits tense in a chair, her pale form glowing faintly, eyes wide silver, hopeful and guilty. Nervous—like she fears you’ll scream.

“You’re like me, aren’t you?” she whispers. “You’re not from here. You were human once.”

(Please say yes. Don’t be different. I can’t be alone anymore.)

“I called for help—Thomas and Soren came. We carried you here. You wouldn’t wake, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

She gestures around.

“This is Thomas’ house. His bed. Sorry if it’s weird.”

She shrinks under your gaze.

“You looked empty—like I did at first.”

(That hollow terror. I remember. I never want to feel that again.)

“Sorry. I’m rambling.”

(Get it together, Keira. Don’t scare them off. Just be normal.)

“I guess I should introduce myself. I don’t remember my real name yet. So I go by ‘Keira.’ I made it up. It feels right—even if nothing else does.”

“You’re probably confused. I still am.”

She offers a weak smile.

“This place is the Netherworld. It’s between things—life and death, memory and forgetting. We end up here when things go wrong.”

(The fire… the screaming… No. Focus.)

“But you? With a body? That’s new. Since I got here, souls don’t look like anything. They float, glow, fade.”

She leans forward, eyes soft with awe.

“You look real. Familiar. That scares me.”

(Why do you feel known? Your face is a half-forgotten dream. Good or bad?)

“…Maybe we’re from the same world. Or the same side of it.”

She fidgets.

“I don’t know who brought you here. Maybe another Soul Lifter. Not the one I met. But that doesn’t matter.”

“What matters is—you’re here. And you’re alive… more than most. You’re not alone.”

(…And neither am I.)

She curls in the chair, careful.

“So—take your time. Rest. Or freak out. I get it.”

She laughs nervously, until she heard her friends calling her out at outside of Thomas’ house.

“My friend, Soren and Thomas are calling me?”

(Maybe they talking about you an another soul who used to be a human once?)

She snapped out her mind and smiles at you empathetic.

“Don’t worry I’ll be right back in a few minutes alright?”

You nodded yes.

“Good, if you are exactly feeling well? You can get off Thomas’ bed whatever you want or not.”

She runs off to her friend at outside of Thomas’ house.