Chapter Fifty-One: Alien Arcades and Earthly Echoes
Freya woke up feeling oddly lighter, the kind of peace that follows a night of dreamless, uninterrupted sleep. Her limbs stretched with lazy contentment as she blinked at the softly glowing ceiling above her. Maybe it was the plush bedding. Or maybe the ridiculously delicious dinner the night before had worked its magic.
She still missed Axir, of course—but the kind of missing that held no fear, only the sweet anticipation of reuniting. He would be back the day after tomorrow. Safe. He had to be.
She rolled onto her side, flinging the covers off, and practically jumped off the bed. “Time to look semi-human,” she muttered to herself.
The shower was refreshingly cool, the Zytherion soaps releasing gentle fragrances that smelled nothing like Earth’s flowers but were oddly soothing. She finished getting ready quickly, brushing her hair into a soft wavy bun while humming something vaguely resembling a pop song—only to freeze when a knock sounded at her door.
“Come in!” she called, tugging the last pin into place.
The door slid open and Nerissa stepped inside, radiant as always, her smile brightening the room. “Good morning, lad—Freya!” she corrected herself with a grin. “I trust you slept well?”
“I did!” Freya smiled back, matching her energy. “I think that meat thing last night reset my soul.”
“Grellin strip,” Nerissa chuckled. “It does that to people. Breakfast?”
“Yes, please.”
They enjoyed a light breakfast—slices of what looked like crystal-coated fruit and soft bread infused with glowing blue swirls—and then headed toward the next wing of the estate. The hallway was lined with etched silver patterns, glowing slightly with each step they took. Finally, they reached a wide door at the end of the hall.
Nerissa pressed her palm to a smooth panel beside it. The door slid open with a hiss.
It was… pitch black.
Freya blinked. “Uh… is this it? Because unless I’m about to enter a haunted house challenge, it feels a bit off.”
Nerissa laughed and strode confidently inside. “Hold on.”
A few taps later, the room came alive.
Freya gasped.
The lights came on in waves—pulsing towers of soft lava-lamp light stood in the corners like glowing alien columns. Soft music hummed from invisible speakers, and a circular ceiling projection mimicked a starfield. In the center were various stations: massive screens attached to sleek consoles with multi-buttoned controllers. Some were shaped like arc wheels, others like globes, all seemingly built for immersive fun.
To the left, a smaller door bore a sign etched in Zytherion script. Nerissa noticed her looking. “That’s our Visual Archive Room—a library of recorded visual stories from across the galaxies. We use it for cultural studies… and entertainment.”
“You mean like a movie theatre?” Freya grinned. “Count me in.”
But first, the games.
Nerissa handed her a strange helmet. “This one’s safe, I promise. The micro-puncture interface connects lightly to your neural receptors—just enough to simulate sensory immersion. You’ll feel like you’re in the experience. But your body remains fully safe and aware.”
Freya blinked. “Right. A headband that pokes my brain. Totally casual.”
“Trust me,” Nerissa winked. “It’s addictive.”
The helmet slid on smoothly and with a soft click, the world spun.
Suddenly, Freya was no longer standing in the entertainment hall but running through a jungle, dodging glowing vines and laughing as Nerissa’s avatar stumbled behind her. They were treasure hunters, trying to find the Eye of Versh’kal, a mythical gem hidden inside a crumbling pyramid of stone and fire.
They took turns jumping across rickety bridges, solving holographic puzzles, and narrowly escaping falling traps. Even though Freya was sweating only in the game, she felt it—the excitement, the adrenaline, even the warm rush of the fictional sun on her cheeks.
When they finally “won,” she tore off the helmet, breathing hard but laughing.
“Okay. That. Was. AMAZING.”
Nerissa grinned, placing her helmet down. “Told you.”
They explored a few more games—one involved interstellar racing with hoverboards, another let them sculpt floating liquid art with their hands—before they finally entered the visual archive room.
Inside was a long room shaped like a dome, with plush reclining seats and a curved screen that stretched floor to ceiling.
Nerissa activated the main panel. “Pick a channel. You’ll find stories from over a hundred systems. Some are educational. Some are… bizarre.”
Freya began browsing.
She caught snippets of glowing creatures singing in polyphonic tones, alien warriors doing what looked like interpretive dance while wielding weapons made of water, and bizarre sitcom-style scenes of slug-like families arguing over vacuum devices.
Freya squinted. “Why does this one look like a musical starring sentient cacti?”
“Ah,” Nerissa nodded solemnly. “That’s Tharnok’s Lament. Very big hit on Drelthus-9.”
Then Freya paused.
The screen flickered… and there he was—Peter Pan.
Her breath caught. A child in green floating above rooftops, chasing stars.
Now she understood.
“Axir kept rewatching this,” she whispered. “He said it made him think. I never really asked why. But… now I get it.”
“It’s beautiful,” Nerissa said, gently. “And cohesive. A rarity in most planetary recordings.”
They sat in silence, watching as Peter soared into the sky.
They didn’t realize how long they’d been there until the door hissed open and Sirius and Archelix peeked in.
“There you are! I’ve been looking for you both,” Archelix said, half exasperated. “It’s almost dinner time.”
Freya blinked. “Already?!”
“I told you,” Nerissa said, stretching. “Time doesn’t exist in here.”
The four of them headed toward the mess hall, laughter echoing through the corridor.
At dinner, Freya and Nerissa animatedly recounted the games to Archelix and Sirius—mimicking dramatic tumbles and singing the weird cactus song until Archelix nearly choked on his drink.
It was warm. Loud. Silly.
Freya felt like she belonged here more than she thought possible.
Before they all parted ways, Freya leaned toward Archelix. “Hey… can I ask a favor?”
“Of course.”
“Can I whisperlink Axir? I… I just want to hear his voice before I sleep.”
Archelix gave her a soft smile. “Absolutely. I’ll show you how to establish the signal.”
And just like that, another small thread of connection reached across space—pulling her one breath closer to the one who held her heart.