Tap…tap…tap
Her steps echoed along the silver metal walls, the lights above giving her just enough to keep from tripping over her own feet. Vending machines sat spaced apart beside benches scattered here and there, their displays glowing softly in the quiet.
The handful of floors she had explored so far were packed with more spaces than she could reasonably walk through.
Some looked like lounges.
Others were cafeterias of every conceivable size, atriums connecting to the floors above—though never through the decks themselves. Their stairways were built from concrete, metal, and glass, cutting through the open spaces like supports made to be seen.
Small galleries lined certain hallways, selling whatever they could to whoever happened to pass by, while the fancier shops sat recessed into the walls.
Rectangular ductwork stretched overhead, pulling and pushing air through the vessel. The constant hum of the HVAC filled her ears, and something about the white noise eased her mind.
"I don't even know where I'm going…I'm just walking in circles."
Her voice barely rose above the steady drone in the background.
Sienna practically floated down the quiet corridor, munching lazily on a sugar stick. Each crunch reverberated faintly behind her while she watched her own shadow stretch and bend across the floor.
Her feet carried her everywhere and nowhere right up until she passed a narrow hallway.
Sienna stopped.
Then she pivoted on her heel and took a brisk right turn without a second thought.
At the end of it, she found two people guarding a door.
The short hallway was bathed in soft light. One was a Librei, the other a Mustela, both stationed in front of whatever waited behind the metal door.
Their faces had been carved into boredom and mild irritation.
The Librei leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, dark blue gear wrapped around his body, looking like he would rather be anywhere else.
A name patch sat on his chest.
Nolan.
The Mustela, on the other hand, sat behind a small desk with a sheathed knife resting on one corner while he scrolled lazily through his phone, his ears flicking with every press.
Remy.
"Crnch..."
The feathered man turned first.
Nolan pushed himself upright and uncrossed his arms, his stare boring straight through her as she came to a stop in front of them.
"Sup."
Remy did not even look up from his phone. His voice came flat, bored, and utterly uninterested.
Sienna finished off the last of her sugar stick and tossed both the wrapper and stick into the bin beside the desk.
"What do you want."
This time, it came from the Librei.
He planted himself in front of the door, his gloved hand curling into a loose fist. The once-tan material had worn nearly black from long use.
"Can I take a peek? I won't touch anything. Swear"
Her voice cracked through the stale air, turning it awkward in an instant.
A long, resigned sigh slipped out of Remy.
He finally looked up from his phone, turned it off and set it face down on the desk. Dull purple hair fell loosely over his face, his round white ears forced upright while his exhausted eyes stared right back into hers.
He looked like he wanted to complain about the injustice of being on shift.
"You don't even know what's back there. You know curiosity's what killed moggy, right?"
Sienna paused for a moment before speaking up, twitching a finger slightly—the smile on her face faltering for a second.
"Can't a girl be curious?"
Remy remained unamused, reaching across the desk for the tablet.
Sienna's eyes flickered to Nolan as he stepped closer, the spotted pattern of his feathers scattered through his hair.
"ID?"
Sienna pulled up her clutch bag and popped it open, searching through it until her fingers found the card. She handed it over.
Nolan snatched it from her and glanced between her face and the photo, his skepticism plain to see.
"When were you born?"
twich.
"Sixteen O' eight."
Nolan handed her ID back without ceremony. She slipped it into her bag and closed it with a quiet snap.
Remy finished tapping on the tablet, then turned the screen around and slid it toward her.
"It's just a couple hundred. Still curious?"
"Unfortunately."
Sienna dragged her finger across the screen until it would not scroll any farther, not even pretending to read the terms and conditions before signing and tapping accept.
The screen flipped to another window immediately.
Another paywall.
She willed it forward, and an outline popped up with a string of numbers at the top.
A balance of five hundred thirty-seven pesos flashed beside it with a minus sign. A moment later, the screen shifted again.
An opaque bell in the upper right of her vision buzzed red, dancing around without pause. Sienna glanced at it once, and it quieted immediately—the little icon turning yellow before going still.
Remy dragged the tablet back his way while Nolan stepped aside, giving the metal door behind him a heavy bang.
I...I didn't think that would actually work.
Her feet moved before she had fully thought it through.
Another door waited ahead, and the moment the metal one shut behind her, this one swung open.
Her ears perked at the Rat Pack music drifting through the background.
A handful of guards lounged around in outfits identical to Nolan's. To her left, a small band played calmly, their music blending into the chatter of the patrons scattered throughout the room.
Sienna walked through the sea of mostly normal-looking people and dropped herself onto a stool at the counter. She let her weary feet rest, plopping her bag between her legs while she soaked in the warmth of the room for a minute.
The music settled into her bones, soothing her spirit as her head dipped in slow, tired bobs. Her body tried to steal rest wherever it could.
clnk—!
Her eyes darted up at once, locking straight onto the bartender's. An empty glass sat between them, catching the dim light above in its clear surface.
The man behind it had a pleasant face, his short Coelhinho ears standing neatly at attention as he rested a palm on the counter.
"What can I get started for you?"
Sienna's mind churned for a moment before her brain finally spat out an answer, at the same time, she pushed herself upright from the counter.
"Whatever you've got...preferably soft."
The bartender nodded and turned away.
He pulled a slim bottle from the shelf, its label scuffed from heavy use and poured a measured shot into a metal shaker. Then he reached for another bottle resting on the prep counter, its cap barely visible from where she sat.
A dark syrup followed soon after, tapping softly against the steel.
He tossed in a handful of ice cubes that clattered sharply, then snapped the shaker shut. His wrists rolled the metal with talented ease for a short while.
Then he popped the lid off, strained the drink into the waiting glass and slid it her way with a professional smile.
"Try this."
Sienna wrapped her hand around the glass and took a quick look at the drink, pulling it close enough to give it a brief sniff.
It carried a faint sweetness with something sharper she could not quite put into words. She took a cautious sip, then downed the rest.
Her eyes lifted a little from their drowsy half-lidded state.
She looked back up at him and snapped her fingers.
The small tablet beside him flickered, like her own bracelet, confirming the payment a second later. An inconsequential amount left her account, barely enough for her to care.
"Say."
Sienna lowered her hand before tracing a slow line around the rim of her empty glass.
"There's not, like…a little back room behind here, is there?"
His expression barely changed.
The bartender reached deeper into the prep counter, then slid a simple card across to her. Sienna dragged it toward herself while he took her empty cup away to wash.
She flipped the card over, reading the thin strips of information printed across it. The instructions were straightforward enough.
…I didn't think that'd work either! Just like the movies.
She stood and glanced around before spotting a passage on the opposite side of where the little band was playing. A sign hung above the entrance, glowing bright green and flickering every few seconds.
Sienna pushed her stool back into place and headed toward the passage.
I just need to make a left at the end, right?
A few too many steps later, past a restroom, another door waited ahead—standing between her and whatever lay beyond.
Her eyes wandered for a moment before landing on the card reader. She tapped the card against it, and the indicator blinked green, the lock clicking open at the same time.
Sienna hesitated briefly, then pushed the door open just wide enough to slip through. She stepped inside and shut it behind her in one motion.
The first thing that hit her was the change in noise.
The music from outside thinned behind the door, replaced by a lower mix of voices, glasses, and quiet movement.
"Huh…not bad at all."
In front of her sat two old brown leather sofas with a table dab in the middle, all three sunk into a shallow depression in the floor. A handful of people lounged there—chatting, drinking, or wasting time one way or another.
To her left stretched a small cafeteria, busy with people tearing through meals of every size. Groups clustered together, some clearly guards assigned to the vessel, others from similar lines of work looking for fresh regions to wander into.
Her feet carried her through all the little pockets tucked inside, her eyes searching for something specific.
A few minutes later, she found herself sitting alone near the corner, one leg crossed loosely over the other while her bag rested against her.
For a while, she just sat there.
People came and went around her, both in slow and fast forward. Some spoke in low voices, others ate like they had not eaten in days. A few guards sat together near the cafeteria, laughing about.
A waiter came by not long after after she raised her hand.
"What can I get you?"
When her glass emptied, she called another waiter.
Another.
Each one had a different taste.
Her eyes drifted around the room without settling on anything, she found small scraps of entertainment where she could, the background fading into a blur.
Sienna rested her elbow on the arm of the table and let her head lean against her knuckles.
She lifted her wrist.
The small screen on her bracelet flickered awake, the time and date dim against her reflection.
And, the moment she looked back up, she was already in her room.
Ugh—damn these papers. Why didn't I just do them yesterday? Now look at me. Brilliant, Sienna. Real smart.
She complained on repeat even while she typed away.
"This is so stupid. Why do I have to do this anyway? Why'd I'd agree to this in the first place...im supposed to be on a trip?"
She raised her arms high, grabbed one wrist and stretched her whole body out.
Her legs shifted under the desk, agitated.
"mmnn—haa…"
Blood rushed to her head, forcing a yawn out of her before she glanced at the date in the bottom-left corner of her laptop. January twentieth—it had not even been a week since she had returned.
Her gaze slid toward Ikade sleeping beside her, the long, furred tail draped across her face like a blanket of soft fluff. She lay curled up, her ears floppy for a change.
A few more key presses and Sienna was nearly done.
After almost an hour of typing and rereading, she finally reached the end of the report. She tapped the screen, signed on the dotted line at the bottom, saved it, then sent it off in the same moment to a certain old dog.
"You'd think they'd have something better than email by now."
She muttered under her breath, casting a glance toward the light switch near the door. It flicked off, dropping the room into darkness.
The glow of her laptop lit her face when she opened the first message in her inbox.
It was from the doctor—the same one who seemed to care more about her money than her well-being.
She double-tapped the email he had forwarded again. The message was short and painfully simple: a reminder not to ignore him, followed by a warning that if she kept delaying, she might end up dying before it was too late.
Sienna scrolled down just enough for the attached file to appear. She tapped it twice, waiting a moment for it to download.
The file swallowed her entire screen—all three hundred and six pages of her history laid bare, the rest of the room dissolving into a blurry mess of color.
Medical Report — "Sienna", June 14th, 1608
Her fingers forced the pages downward, skimming past the parts she'd already memorized and the ones too useless to read again.
But not everything was unimpor—
'You ha ve a m░▒▓ss in y our br██a i n.'
She slowed to a crawl, reading the lines once, then again, then again. Each detail cut through the haze in her head as the meaning settled in.
"…crys…talline…pressin'…pons…var…olii…"
"between...med...nucleus too..."
"Heh...what shit luck....Nope. Not thinking about my poor life choices until next week."