Mark startled to the sound of pounding, shooting up from his bed as Equinox slammed the door open.

    "Wake up," she ordered, and Mark grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck.

    "I didn't fall asleep to begin with," he grumbled, swinging his feet over the bed. He stood up, and Equinox rushed over to him, knocking her leg through his knees.

    Mark yelped, falling forwards on his hands and knees, quickly stumbling to his feet.

    "What the hell?" he demanded.

    "Lesson one," said Equinox, moving to trip him again—Mark flinched. "Always be aware of your surroundings."

    Mark stumbled to his feet, dusting himself off with a look of distaste. Equinox only stared back, a smirk playing the edges of her lips.

    "Get dressed," she said. "It's time for breakfast."

    She walked out the room and closed the door, leaving Mark tired and perplexed. He blinked, shaking his head, and obeyed her orders.

    "How did I end up in this mess," he breathed, dressing himself and heading out the door. He gave an audible sigh as he faced the looming hallways, which had shifted in the night.

    "Voxe, I swear," cursed Mark, pinching the bridge of his nose. "If you shift this house just for fun—"

    "Not always," a voice said, and Mark whirled around with a shout.

    "Jesus," he huffed, meeting Voxe's slender figure gazing down at him. Ze grinned, beckoning Mark to follow with a finger and heading down a hallway.

    "I thought I'd drop by to let you calm down from Equinox's wake-up call," ze said, zir hands moving gracefully as ze talked. "But I'd also like to teach you about the house."

    "What's the point?" grumbled Mark. "I'm leaving this place, anyway."

    Voxe ignored his comment, and they stopped in a grand hall—the same one that Mark lingered at the day before. Stained-glass windows made up an entire floor, curving from the floor to the ceiling. This time, he could take in the beauty, all of the room's ornate, dark jewels glimmering down at him. His mind whirred, and Voxe led him up the sloping, shadow-basked staircase. No barrier kept them from going higher, but they stopped halfway.

    "This house is a product of an enchantment gone wrong," said Voxe, lifting zir hand, zir movements flowing like water. "My parents were the ones who built this house, though they died during the enchantment, binding me by blood to this place. This is how I feel everything."

Voxe kept zir gaze over the grandiose room, tightening zir fingers in the slightest. "As Evolveds, we still live by the properties of nature. However..."

    Voxe lifted zir hand higher and gently moved zir wrist. Mark's eyes widened, unable to process what happened before him.

    Through the grand openings, the hallways shifted and turned—like he were looking into turning cogs. Shadows shifted across the floor of the grand room, and Voxe dropped zir hand, smirking over at Mark.

    "One rule of the house," said Voxe, "is that the main rooms never change." Ze walked down the stairs, and Mark followed, still stunned. "This ballroom, the dining hall, the living room, the great halls... they all stay in the same place."

    "Then why move the hallways?" asked Mark, brows furrowed. They headed down the newly-shifted hallways, and Mark glanced at his surroundings, the walls speaking of age.

    "High Evolveds like us must always be cautious," said Voxe. "Moving the house confuses intruders." Ze glanced down at Mark. "We had an attack a few years ago—my abilities helped give us enough time to dispose of the enemy."

    "Was it Antinstine?" asked Mark.

    Voxe rose a brow down at him, and zir eyes glimmered. "Right. You don't know the whole story." Mark waited for zem to continue, but ze brushed off the comment. "But no, it wasn't Antinstine. A group of rogues."

    "Will I ever know the whole story?"

    Voxe ignored him, the both of them continuing down the hallway, and Mark grit his teeth.

    "For you to identify the house," said Voxe, "you must memorize the locations of the main rooms."

    "That's impossible," scoffed Mark. "I'm human, I don't know the—signatures—or whatever."

    "It's more difficult," Voxe agreed. "But you can learn. Here—"

    They stopped, and Voxe touched the wall, motioning for him to do the same. Mark rose a brow, and Voxe reached over to place Mark's hand on the wall.

    "Do you feel it?" breathed Voxe.

    Mark's brows furrowed, and he pressed his palm into the wall, fingers shifting over the gentle wallpaper.

    "Feel... what?"

    "Evolveds are still humans," said Voxe. "We can tap into the same magic." Ze motioned towards Mark's hand. "Try harder."

    "But what am I looking for?"

    Voxe only stared at him, and Mark huffed, focusing on his hand.

    "Try closing your eyes."

    Mark obeyed, eyes slipping closed. He was vaguely aware of Voxe's presence at his side, still uneasy around Evolveds, but poured his attention into the wall. A line of blue pulsed before his eyes, and his eyes snapped open.

    "Don't pull away," said Voxe, laying zir hand on top of Mark's to keep it down. "Feel."

    Mark swallowed, and a faint pressure pulsed through the wall. Like a heartbeat—steady yet faint.

    "I—I think I feel it."

    "Good," said Voxe. "When you closed your eyes—what did you see?"

    "A blue line?"

    Voxe smiled, tilting zir head with a gleam in zir eyes. "Perfect," ze said. "The lines show you where to go."

    Mark's brows furrowed. "If I can do this, why didn't the enemies?"

    "Well, one—they didn't know how to tap into the house," said Voxe, leaning forward. "But they also weren't one with the house."

    "And I am?"

    "Oddly... yes," said Voxe, straightening zemself. "I'm surprised you caught on so fast."

    Maybe it's because of the foreseer Dark was talking about, thought Mark. He brushed aside the thought, focusing on the present.

    "So the line," said Mark. "Does that lead to the dining hall?"

    A knowing smirk played on Voxe's lips, and ze chuckled. "Well," ze said. "Not quite." Zir eyes glimmered with amusement. "It looks like you've got a certain someone on your mind instead."

    Mark rose a brow, perplexed, but Voxe didn't give any further explanation. Ze motioned to the wall again.

    "Think about the dining hall," said Voxe, and Mark put his hand on the wall. "If you think about Edwards again, it will continue to lead you to his room."

    Mark blinked, his cheeks flaring with heat. I was... thinking about—?

    He nervously chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, but Voxe only pressed on his hand with an amused look.

    "Focus," ze snickered.

    Mark nodded, closing his eyes, and thought of the dining hall. After a few seconds, that blue light pulsed before his eyes—a pattern similar to the number four. He glanced over at Voxe, who only smiled.

    "Lead the way," ze said.

    Mark inwardly groaned, but he obeyed, remembering the pattern in his head and following it. Walk down, left turn, straight, right turn, straight...

    Up ahead, on the left side, was the grand opening to the dining hall. Excitement thrummed in Mark's chest, and Voxe clapped him on the back with a cheered shout.

    "Excellent job!" exclaimed Voxe with a laugh. "It's like you belong here."

    Mark chuckled, something chilling about those words. He glanced around the dining hall, meeting eyes with Dark.

    "How did he do?" asked the Tear Stealer, black robes fluttering at his feet. Mark swallowed, forcing himself to think straight.

    "He's more inclined than I thought," said Voxe with a hum. "Cibil told you well."

    Dark's eyes glimmered at that, and he waved a hand at Voxe in dismissal. "I'll take over from here," he said, and Voxe bowed zir head, glancing once more at Mark before exiting the dining hall, leaving Mark and Dark to their lonesome.

    "Voxe said it was like I—belong here," said Mark quietly as Dark led him further into the room, pulling back a chair for the human to sit in.

    You do, thought Dark, but he brushed off the thought, sitting down near Mark.

    "You're doing well for your first day," said the Tear Stealer, pushing a plate of food towards Mark. He glanced down at it, stomach rumbling, yet something told him not to eat it.

    Still, despite the kindness these Evolveds had given him, they'd still kidnapped him.

    Mark forced a smile and bowed his head in the slightest. "Thanks," he muttered. Dark nodded, and he folded his hands under his chin, elbows resting on the table as he gazed at Mark.

    "I merely want to discuss the facade we'll be giving you," said the Tear Stealer as Mark grabbed a piece of bacon. "The... character you'll slip into when you go to Antinstine's city."

    Mark took a bite, but it tasted sour as soon as Dark said those words. He set down his food, jaw tense.

    "What would that be?" asked Mark reluctantly.

    "People already believe you're an Evolved," said Dark. "We just need to give you a believable ability."

    "I kill people," said Mark a matter-of-factly. "Isn't that enough?"

    The Tear Stealer chuckled and shook his head. "No," he said. "You need something like—looking a few minutes into the future, or increasing people's pain."

    "My signature is strangulation," said Mark, pushing his plate away. "I'll just have a strong—hand ability or... some shit."

    Dark rose a brow, and Mark only shrugged, already tired of the conversation.

    "It could work," said the Tear Stealer. "Your ability will be strangulation."

    "Good enough?" asked Mark.

    "A low-class ability," sighed Dark, running a hand through his hair. "We'll work on something."

    Mark frowned at his statement, and Dark motioned to his untouched plate.

    "Eat," he said. "You need strength for what we'll do next."

    Mark scoffed and rolled his eyes, reluctantly bringing the plate closer to him. "Uh-huh," he mocked. "And what's that?"

    Dark's eyes glimmered, and he watched Mark take a bite of his breakfast.

    "You're going to fight me," he said.

Thank you so much for reading, and have a great day!

-Kassian <3