CHAPTER 4: VISITORS

  They were in the Archive Tower.

  A domain that only invited and always declined. And yet it paused.

  The structure hesitated, as though recognizing the echo of her footsteps.

  Not the sound itself, but the memory of one.

  A trace left behind by a visitor it could not name, when her dreaming mind reached for the library’s shape and failed to hold it.

  The domain followed the impression it left, like a long-lost friend extending a hand, and unfolded a door into the Dream Realm.

  The librarian watched, quietly amused, as Suryel crossed the threshold between Realms without resistance.

  She arrived humming.

  Not cautious. Not reverent.

  Just… Delighted.

  Suryel skipped forward, fingers trailing along the spines of books as her gaze drank in the endless shelves and branching corridors ahead.

  The Archive stretched in every direction, vertical and hollow at its center, ladders and bridges weaving through open air.

  “Whoa…” She murmured, slowing at last, head tilting. Her expression softened into open wonder. “Why, hello there… new space I’ve never seen before. You are a beauty.”

  Curiosity sparkled first. Awe followed close behind, blooming into wonder that refused to stay contained.

  Yael saw it before he could intervene.

  There she was— And then she was gone.

  She climbed, explored, doubled back, and darted ahead, as though determined to occupy every possible space at once.

  Her laughter echoed off the shelves as she vanished around corners and reappeared above, below, somewhere impossible.

  Yael followed, quickening his pace but never rushing.

  Each time he reached where she had been, her presence lingered only as warmth and motion.

  “Woohoo!” Suryel’s voice rang out from above, then below. “This is amazing!”

  “Suryel,” Yael called, breath steady but threaded with strain as he scanned the shifting levels. He climbed two steps at a time. “Please don’t try to open anything without warning me.”

  She appeared at his side mid-sentence, descending backward down a stair with reckless ease.

  “You worry too much!” She said brightly, flicking his forehead as she passed.

  Her grin widened as she slowed, lowering her voice into mock seriousness. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  She leaned close, conspiratorial. “A bookworm bites me?”

  Then she giggled, spun with her arms wide, nearly clipping a ladder as it rattled, then bolted again before Yael could respond.

  She didn’t stop until she reached the inner railing overlooking the hollowed heart of the Tower.

  Suryel leaned out— Too far.

  Sunlight poured down from a sky that should not have existed here, warmth brushing her face as if the structure had decided to indulge her.

  Far below, storm-tossed seas churned endlessly, crashing against nothing.

  “Suryel! Please don’t lean like that,” Yael said sharply as he reached her side.

  His hand closed around her arm, eyes flashing downward. “Be careful. One slip and you could—”

  THUD.

  The sound cracked through the Tower.

  A single book had fallen somewhere behind them, its impact echoing longer than it should have.

  Both turned.

  Suryel’s eyes lit up immediately.

  “What— Are you seriously moving toward the noise?!” Yael called as she bolted, her laughter already trailing behind her.

  “Yes!” She shouted back. “Obviously!”

  Yael exhaled, resigned, and followed.

  She rounded a corner too fast and collided with someone solid.

  A thin, warm hand steadied her instantly.

  “Thank you.” She murmured, cheeks warming as she looked up.

  The figure before her radiated calm authority. Scrolls rested neatly against his arm, barely disturbed by the impact.

  “Metatron—” Yael began, stepping forward.

  A single glance silenced him.

  “There is no need to apologize,” Metatron said evenly, his tone neither unkind nor indulgent.

  His gaze returned to Suryel. “And you should refrain from running through places that predate caution. Even in dreams.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  He brushed a trace of dust from her shoulder, then looked up as the architecture subtly shifted around them.

  “It is time to wake.” He added, simpler now. “This visit has concluded.”

  He paused— Measured, deliberate.

  “And thank you,” Metatron said, voice carrying quiet weight, “for the invitation.”

  Suryel blinked, brow furrowing. “What invitation?”

  A ringing alarm tore through the dream.

  She woke with a sharp inhale, hand gripping her sheets. “Huh— What was that?”

  Morning light spilled across her room.

  Her room was unchanged.

  Familiar. Ordinary.

  Suryel stretched, rubbed her face, and sat up, the sense of vastness already thinning at the edges as she prepared for her commute and classes.

  In the Archive Tower, the aftermath arrived louder.

  “Stop covering my face, Azriel!” Helel shouted, twisting and kicking at a bookshelf which toppled nearby.

  Azriel caught him by the cloak with one hand.

  With the other, he set a bound volume down neatly on an untouched table before tightening his grip.

  Books crashed in cascading waves behind them, scholars and attendants scattering across walkways, murmurs rippling through the upper levels.

  Yael stepped back, posture stiff, eyes tracking the destruction.

  Helel noticed the silence immediately.

  “Yael~ Hey.” He crooned, craning his neck to peer past Azriel’s arm. “Why aren’t you greeting me? Don’t you miss me? Give me a hug.”

  Azriel shifted effortlessly, blocking even the suggestion of contact.

  “OW! Damn it, Azriel— Let go!” Helel snapped, twisting uselessly.

  “You three,” Metatron said sharply, eyes cold as he surveyed the still-falling shelves and scrambling archivists. “Out. Now.”

  A beat.

  “…Yessir.” Helel replied cheerfully.

  They vanished.

  Yael reappeared beneath the Star-Bearing Tree moments later, exhaling slowly, shoulders loosening only after he confirmed the silence around him.

  The quiet did not reassure him.

  Elsewhere, in the In-Between Realm, Azriel guided a retired teacher’s soul toward rest, listening as the man spoke fondly of students long gone.

  And in the Abyss, Helel returned to the pedestal the Hellions mockingly called a throne.

  A smirk spread across his face.

  Amusement sharpened into intent.

  “I’m going out.” Helel announced.

  Samael stood beside the throne, hands folded behind his back, gaze distant.

  “Enjoy.” He replied, his smile thin and patient.

  Helel appeared in the human world without sound.

  Concrete pressed underfoot. Noise surged. Heat clung.

  Bells rang, schedules advanced, and the crowd moved on without asking permission.

  He manifested first as absence.

  Shadows leaned where they should not. Light hesitated, forgetting rules it usually obeyed.

  Above a school courtyard at dismissal, he hovered—nowhere and everywhere at once.

  Students spilled out in clusters, laughter and complaints overlapping, phones raised, bags slung carelessly over shoulders.

  And then—

  There she was.

  Suryel moved with the crowd as if she belonged entirely to it.

  Hair loose, uniform wrinkled, expression caught between boredom and amusement as she chewed on a snack she clearly hadn’t waited to save for home.

  “Well now,” Helel murmured, tilting his head. “You look smaller.”

  She did not look up.

  She adjusted her bag strap and laughed at something a friend said, shoulders brushing theirs.

  But her heartbeat spiked.

  That interested him.

  He drifted closer.

  Shadows stretched just enough to brush her shoes.

  She stepped over them without looking.

  “Rude.” Helel said mildly.

  Warmth pressed gently against her back.

  Yael arrived without spectacle.

  The shadows recoiled as his presence settled behind her like open windows in a closed room.

  “Helel,” Yael said calmly. “You should not be here.”

  “I was curious,” Helel replied lightly.

  “That curiosity is unwelcome.” Yael replied.

  Suryel stretched her arms with a yawn. “Okay, if we don’t go now, I’m eating one of you.”

  Groans. Laughter. The group veered toward the gate.

  She followed— Deliberate, casual.

  Helel descended slightly, his presence brushing her awareness like a fingertip testing glass.

  “Suryel~” He sang softly. “Can you see me?”

  Yael caught his arm.

  A wraith slipped through the thinning crowd, drawn by the tension.

  It lunged.

  “Helel, move!” Light flared unseen as Yael surged forward.

  Cold hooked at Suryel’s ankle.

  She stumbled— Then twisted, falling just enough to slip free.

  “I’m fine!” She laughed quickly, scrambling upright and running to join her friends again. “Gravity’s aggressive today.”

  The group shared a laugh.

  Behind her, the wraith shattered—silenced by pressure that was not Yael’s.

  Helel lowered fully, shadows thickening like a storm cloud deciding whether to break.

  “Do not.” He said softly, amusement gone, "Touch what has already drawn notice.”

  The remaining wraiths scattered.

  “Do not interfere.” Yael warned, setting barriers around her just in case.

  Helel grinned, watching his every action. “Then keep up.”

  Suryel kept walking.

  She did not look back.

  Her laughter landed on cue, even as her hands minutely trembled.

  She crossed tracks, sunlight and human noise closing around her like a shield, safety borrowed with numbers.

  Yael stayed at her back.

  Helel lingered beside him, humming.

  At the corner, Suryel waved to her friends. “See you tomorrow!”

  She waved back with a smile.

  She turned down the side street alone.

  Her smile faded.

  Streetlights flickered on, greeting dusk.

  And somewhere far beyond the street below, something patient shifted— Already counting moves.

  Author’s Note:

  “A domain that only invited and always declined.” I felt that in my DMs and all the messages that I haven’t read and replied to. Whoops.