Prologue

The streets lay quiet as Ada walked home, the gentle beat from her earbuds syncing with her footsteps. She had left the laughter and lively warmth of the riverside behind, opting for the shortcut through the empty business district—a rare pocket of solitude in the city.

The August night was cool and had thankfully lost some of its heaviness. She welcomed the quiet, her thoughts pleasantly drifting after a night spent with some of her closest friends; Mina, Lucas, Peter and Leah.

She had known them for over a decade, and they had been a fixture through so much of the unrest and changes in her life. They had seen her in every stage of life, from first dates to hard-won triumphs, and she admired them with a warmth that ran deep.

To her, Mina and Lucas were the definition of couple goals—not the kind who wore their affection on their sleeves, but the kind who shared silent glances that held a world of understanding. When Lukas caught Mina's eye from across the table, or when Mina would place a steadying hand on his without a word, it was as if no one else existed in the room.

They didn't have to say much; she could just feel the love they had for each other, built on years of quiet moments and a shared rhythm that seemed effortless.

It made her smile, watching the way they fit together so seamlessly, like two parts of a well-worn melody. For a fleeting moment, she imagined what it might be like to have that kind of closeness—steady, wordless, a quiet understanding that held up even in silence. A partnership where you could simply be with someone, no pretence, no pressure.

She let herself wonder, just for a heartbeat, what it might feel like to belong in a world like that. But as quickly as the thought settled, it drifted away. That kind of intimacy felt both comforting and impossible, a warmth she wasn't sure she'd ever find for herself.

It wasn't malice or bitterness—she was genuinely happy for them, her heart warmed by the small glances and soft gestures they shared. Their world was beautiful, but it was theirs, one she admired from the edges but never really saw herself stepping into.

Ada shook her head, as if to dislodge the thought. This night out with friends had brought her some reprieve of the growing pain in her stomach over the last weeks. A deep, sinking ache that on some days got so heavy and painful, as if she had fallen on her back and was now gasping for air.

But there was nothing to be done about it, not quickly anyways. There was no appendix to be taken out, no bleeding to be stopped. The ache came from a deep and lingering sadness, an exhaustion she had carried with her for a long time but denied time and time again.

This feeling had been with her for so long, she could not remember it not being around. She had begun to think it was just part of her, part of existence and that the reason she was hanging by a thread was the fact she could not get over it.

Life is hard, life is unfair, there is nothing you can do about it. So just keep going and don't think about it too much. This is all in your head, you have nothing to be this desperately sad about. It makes no sense.

Her phone buzzed. Ada blinked, dragged herself out of the looping thoughts, and pulled it from the little bag slung across her chest. The screen lit up her face in the dark.

LEAH: Let me know when you're home. Peter's drunk, singing, and owes me dinner and damages. I'm accepting payment in homemade lasagne and silence.

Ada smiled. God, of course Leah was still awake. Still managing everyone else's chaos like it was a job she didn't apply for but refused to do halfway. And Ada could picture it perfectly: Leah dragging Peter's lurching, off-key self through the door, muttering curses with one hand steadying him and the other ready to throw a pillow at his head.

That image made something in Ada's chest twist. She wanted to reply with something clever. Something that would match the rhythm they'd always had—their back-and-forth, their relentless teasing, the way Leah could always make her laugh when the world felt too sharp. Chip and Dale, Ada often said. Each other's Rescue Rangers. One heartbeat; two headaches.

Ada typed.

ADA: Home soon

Paused. Backspaced. Typed again.

ADA: Still walking. You're the best. And honestly... I'm tired, Leah. I don't know how to explain it. Just—thank you for texting. I needed it. I love you.

Paused longer. Stared at the words. Her thumb hovered.

She wanted to send it. She did. Every fibre of her ached to say it—to tell Leah that tonight felt heavy, that something in her chest hadn't unclenched in weeks, that even the good moments were starting to feel… borrowed. That the ache wasn't going away. That she was tired.

But she couldn't. Not because she didn't trust Leah. She did. With her whole soul. It was her. She didn't want to make it Leah's problem. Didn't want to be the shadow in the text thread. Didn't want Leah to have to carry her too.

It's nothing. It's just your brain being stupid again. You'll feel better tomorrow. Don't ruin this. She erased everything and typed a funny reply instead.

ADA: He better throw in a bottle of good wine too. No cheap shit—you've earned top shelf.

Sent.

She put the phone back in her bag, but her fingers lingered against the fabric. The silence around her felt heavier now—not just quiet, but hushed, like a breath held too long. The streetlamps ahead flickered. Just for a second. Probably nothing.

Her eyes adjusted again. Everything was still. Too still. Her skin prickled. The air smelled strange—like ozone and burnt sugar, wrong in a way she couldn't name.

A chill crawled up her spine. She glanced around—empty storefronts, locked doors, the usual ghost-town feel of the business district after hours. But now it felt… staged. Like a set someone had forgotten to take down. She took a step. Her heel clicked sharply against the pavement. Too loud.

Was someone behind her? No. No one. She was being stupid. Paranoid. Overthinking, like always. But something is off. You feel it. Don't lie to yourself.

She turned a corner. Streetlights ahead blinked out. One. Two. Three. She stopped. The wind had gone still. Even the hum of the city—traffic, distant trains, electricity in the wires—was gone. Then— A movement. Just at the edge of her vision. A ripple. Like reality itself exhaled. Ada's breath caught.

The earbuds in her ears fizzed—static, sharp—and then silence. The music was gone. She reached for her phone again—fingers fumbling, colder now—but before she could pull it free, the world lurched. The sidewalk tilted. Her knees buckled. Her stomach dropped like she was falling, falling— And then—

Darkness.

Her thoughts scattered. Her last flicker of consciousness wasn't fear. She thought about Leah. And the message she didn't send.


Day 1: The Nautiloid

The first thing Ada felt was the cold—a sharp, unnatural chill that clung to her skin like wet fabric, worming its way into her flesh, settling deep in her core. She shivered. Her limbs felt heavy, distant, as if they belonged to someone else. It was nothing like the slightly cool summer night she last remembered walking through, phone in hand, the street lights making everything cast long, dim shadows.

She had been walking home, feeling lost in her head, texting Leah. She remembered laughing at Leah's exasperation. She had replied with humour. Then—nothing. And now this. What the hell happened?

The air stank. Like blood and acid. Metallic and sweet, the way copper coins tasted on your tongue after you held them too long. There was a thicker scent underneath it—like spoiled meat left too long in a sealed bag. It clung to the back of her throat. She swallowed against it and gagged.

Her mind reached for answers, for anything familiar. Coma. Drug hallucination. Cult kidnapping. Body horror film shoot gone wrong. Something. But none of them fit. Nothing explained the sheer wrongness of everything around her.

Was she in a hospital or maybe a morgue? Maybe she'd been mugged or hit by a car. Her stomach tightened in fear. This... this was something else entirely.

Eyes still closed, she took in her surroundings slowly, her fingertips brushing against the surface beneath her. It felt both hard and somehow fleshy, as if she were lying on some grotesque mixture of leather and cartilage.

Slowly, Ada opened her eyes. The light was dim, flickering like a dying bulb. Blinking against it, Ada realized she was trapped inside some kind of cocoon or sarcophagus. Was this a casket? The interior had an organic sheen, like skin stretched over bone, with a small opening just above her head.

Ada was held upright and semi-reclined in it, her body rigid like a mummy, with her arms pressed to her sides and legs straightened. The pod's internal structures kept her firmly in place, wrapping around her with vine-like extensions that immobilized her from the neck down.

Ada's heart beat almost out of her chest. This all had to be a nightmare, nothing more. Outside the pod, through the narrow slit above her eye line, she couldn't see much. Dim reddish light flickered beyond it, casting pulsing shadows that moved as if the walls themselves were breathing.

Peering through, she could make out a cavernous space beyond her pod. In a circle, following the walls of the room, many other pods were lined up like some distorted version of a hospital monitoring station.

Ada was facing forward, as if she was on display. Trapped between life and something worse than death. Instead of the hum of ventilators or the shuffle of nurses, though, she was met with silence and darkness.

In a contrast to the overall reddish light, there was the sickly yellow glow from a basin in the room's center. It pulsed faintly, its light casting twisted shadows across the walls, almost like some perverse kind of baptistry.

Fear slithered through her chest, sharp and electric. Is this a dream? It had to be—this was too otherworldly for reality. Am I drugged? She tried to steady her breath. Don't panic. Not yet.

There was an uncomfortable feeling at her lower back, like something protruding from her tailbone. It felt thick and muscular, brushing against her leg inside the pod. Like a nervous twitching motion.

There is something in here with me!, was her first panicked thought. But then, the surface beneath her tail twitched—and that, more than anything, sent a jolt through her spine. Her tail. The realization struck like lightning. She had a tail. Panic surged again, harder this time.

I am high. I am dreaming. Maybe the drugs are causing me to hallucinate? This is a weirdly specific sensation for a dream. But what else can it be? This can not be real. People don't just grow tails.

Am I in a lab? Is this some kind of lizard people experiment they're doing? Because how else did I just spontaneously grow a tail? And I can definitely feel it - it is there. But it's not supposed to... I am not...

Her thoughts began to spiral, her breath came in short gasps. She tried to scream, but all she could manage was a croaking noise between rough intakes of breath.

She squirmed, trying to distract herself from her bodily sensations, she refocused on the room outside her pod. She could make out the face of a woman in another pod a few meters away. Ada blinked, straining her eyes against the dimness.

The woman's skin was a faint, unnatural green, adorned with mottled dark markings that gave her an almost reptilian look. Black warpaint surrounded her eyes and emphasized the apex of her high cheekbones. Her features were sharp and pronounced.

Her long, pointed ears reminded Ada of a fairy - if fairies were severe and dominant predators. The woman's eyes were striking, so piercing they almost seemed to burn with a yellow inner light.

Her nose was small, upturned and flat with prominent nostrils. Ada would have compared it to the nose of an orc, were the rest of the woman's features not so refined and almost calculated looking. Her hair was pulled back tightly, kept out of her face. Everything about her was alien and intimidating.

Ada's heart raced. The woman didn't look remotely human; there was an uncanny edge to her appearance. She looks so young, though, Ada caught herself thinking. The woman in the other pod looked no older than twenty at the most.

Ada stared, trying to reconcile what she was seeing with anything she knew. A movie set? Some deep LARP scenario? No. No makeup or prosthetic had that kind of realism, even in the dim light Ada could see the tiny twitches in the woman's face, the way muscles moved under skin. This wasn't a latex mask. This was flesh.

But before Ada could dwell too long on her unsettling pod mate, a shift in the shadows drew her attention to the far end of the room. The wall flexed. Opened.

Not like a door—more like a wound. With a wet, sucking sound, the circular shape at the far end of the corridor split open, revealing a dark passage beyond. Membranes peeled back like raw muscle parting to expose the throat of something alive.

From the dim recesses beyond, a figure drifted forward. Ada's stomach dropped. She felt her throat go dry. The creature was tall and robed, its limbs long and too thin, gliding forward without touching the floor. The folds of its garment rippled as if caught in a current, but there was no breeze.

Its head was smooth and swollen like a drowned corpse, and where a mouth should have been, there were only tentacles—slick and writhing, reaching down to the middle of its torso. The blood ran cold in her veins.

It looked like some deep-sea god dredged up from black water, hungry and patient. But what struck her most were its eyes. They were gleaming a sickly amber yellow as they surveyed the room, cold and unblinking.

This has to be a dream, she told herself, her breath catching in her chest. It was too horrific to be real—the creature looked like something out of a Lovecraftian horror story, a squid-faced nightmare meant to haunt the darkest of waters.

But here it was, floating closer, its eyes scanning the pods around her as though they were no more significant than glass containers on a lab shelf. Ada's mind brought up pictures of moths and butterflies, pinned into place for examination.

No, Ada thought, I am still alive. I am not dead yet. But who knew if in this scenario that was a good thing or a reason to pray for a quick death. Her mind stammered through impossible possibilities.

Cthulhu. Some cousin of Cthulhu.

What the fuck am I looking at.

What the fuck is happening?

The creature's gaze passed over Ada briefly, continuing down the circular room until it settled on the woman with the green skin. The woman gasped. Also alive. Also awake. Her eyes flared wide as her chest heaved against the restraints.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came through. Her hands trembled where they were pinned. She looked around wildly, head jerking side to side. Ada recognized the expression. Pure terror. The kind that stripped you down to instinct.

It seemed almost to helpless and weak of an emotion for the harsh-looking woman's face. If even she is scared, what horror is coming for us? Ada thought, her heart racing faster, the cold and clawing terror in her chest deepening.

She could barely breathe. Her whole body tensed in instinctive fear. With a smooth, almost dismissive motion, the creature lifted a hand, and the fleshy surface of the woman's pod peeled away, receding like a piece of skin sliced from an orange.

The creature floated over to the yellow basin, dipping its long fingers into the viscous liquid inside. When it withdrew its hand, Ada squinted, trying to make out what it was holding.

It was small, greyish, maybe the size of a pinky finger, wriggling slightly—a slug or worm of some kind. Ada's stomach turned. She pressed herself against the back of her pod with all the force she had, but nothing gave. She was trapped. Helpless.

The creature floated back to the green-skinned woman and held the parasite up to her face as though preparing to feed it to her. She recoiled as far as she could, shaking her head, eyes pleading. Her mouth moved in silent protest, a scream that went nowhere.

The parasite squirmed, reaching. The creature held the wriggling thing close to her face, and Ada could see the woman's terrified eyes go wide as the parasite latched onto her cheek, crawling slowly toward her eye. The woman thrashed, the sound of her struggle muffled and thin.

Ada's own breathing became shallow, panic clawing its way up her throat as she tried to tear her gaze away but couldn't. The creature on the woman's face let out a sharp, high-pitched screech, then, in a hideous twist, buried itself into the woman's eye socket with a wet, sickening squelch.

Ada's whole body was locked in horror, her mind screaming at her to look away, to close her eyes, to wake up. But she couldn't, even as bile rose in her throat. The scene played on before her like some ghastly spectacle.

The woman's body jolted again, then sagged. Her mouth opened in a silent wail. Something twitched under her skin. The parasite was still moving, buried deep behind her eye, and Ada could see the outline of it, pressing outward as if trying to crawl its way into her skull.

The creature in robes watched her suffering dispassionately, didn't react. It simply watched. Studied. As if this were routine. Then, with a wave of its hand, it resealed the pod, trapping the woman with her agony.

Ada's thoughts raced, desperate for some semblance of logic. No. This was wrong. This couldn't be real. Her heart thundered in her chest. She couldn't feel her fingers or toes, but her tail lashed wildly, useless against the soft back wall of the pod.

Every nerve in her body screamed move, but there was nowhere to go. And before she could convince herself this was all in her head, before she could summon any escape from the nightmare, she saw the creature reaching into the basin again. This time, when it turned, its gaze was fixed on her.

Her stomach lurched, the sight of its yellow eyes meeting hers filling her with a cold, animal terror. Please, no. She tried to move, to scream, to do something, but her body was still slow, unresponsive, as if a lead weight had been pressed down on her limbs.

The creature drifted closer, the slug-like parasite in its fingers squirming, reaching blindly as if it, too, sensed her fear. Ada's pulse pounded in her ears. She forced every ounce of strength into her limbs, her hands twitching, her legs straining against the floor of her pod. But it was too late.

The creature held the parasite before her face, its cold eyes unblinking, watching her with a strange sort of indifference. Ada's heart hammered as she felt the parasite latch onto her cheek, its slimy, writhing body pressing against her skin. She could feel its tiny suctioning movements as it slithered up, past her cheekbone, toward her eye.

Her body reacted instinctively, jerking back. Her muscles spasmed in panic but the pod's restraints held her firmly in place. The worm stopped, just below her right eye, as though tasting her fear. Time seemed to stretch, each heartbeat a drumbeat of terror. Then, in one sickening motion, it screeched and pushed itself against her eyelid, wriggling into her eye.

Hot tears spilled from the corners of her eyes, blurring the red-tinged world around her. The pain in her eye was an excruciating pressure, as if the creature would pop out her eye entirely. The worm burrowed deeper into her skull, a ripping pain following where it went.

Pain exploded in her head, blinding, all-consuming. It felt as though her head was being split open from the inside. It was as if her worst migraine had multiplied tenfold and become a physical manifestation. As if it was tearing through her brain, scorching every thought in its path.

She screamed, or tried to—the sound was swallowed by the walls of the pod, reverberating back into her own skull. The world around her was tinged in red now. As if the parasite had eclipsed her sight entirely, sinking deeper into her mind. Every part of her screamed to wake up, to be anywhere but here, but the darkness was unrelenting.

Is this how I die?

Is this how it ends?

Alone in some alien nightmare with a monster in my head?

Her breaths came fast, frantic, until even that feeling ebbed away, the pain receding slowly into numbness, pulling her down into a chilling quiet. The last thing she saw was the creature's cold, yellow eyes - watching, waiting - before her world went black.

Ada's consciousness returned violently. She woke mid-fall, her weight shifting with terrifying finality before she crashed to the floor, face first, the impact sharp and jarring. Around her, there were shards of the pod that had held her before.

Groaning, she pressed herself up on unsteady arms, a deep pounding throb resonating in her head. A strange, insistent pulse beat behind her eyes—too strong, too alien to be her own heartbeat.

For a moment she paused on her hands and knees, waiting for the world to stabilize itself around her again. She was cold and dizzy and deeply frightened. With shaky fingers, she touched her temple, traced down to the skin under her right eye.

Her fingers brushed the sore, bruised skin, and winced as her memories reared up, piecing themselves together in fragments: the nightmare pod, the monster with tentacles, the thing it shoved into her eye… Her stomach turned, and Ada was sure she would have vomited if there was anything left inside.

Her surroundings flooded her senses, jolting her into full awareness. The air was filled with smoke and the acrid smell of something burning. Fires licked up the walls that looked like flayed skin, casting grotesque shadows that melded into the fleshy, organic structure around her.

She wasn't in a building, that much she could tell. A large hole gaped in the wall to her right, and beyond it, she saw a dizzying expanse of open sky. Wind whipped through the space, chilling her already trembling skin. Am I… on a plane? Some sort of airship?

Ada tried to stand, but her limbs felt strange—heavy, uncooperative, as if her body had forgotten how to move. She shifted into a crouch, her torso now upright and her head swimming from the movement.

The floor was shaking in waves below her, almost like the ship was having chills, just like Ada herself. Slowly and unsteadily, she rose to her feet.

A strange imbalance tugged at her head as she lifted her gaze, like a weight that shouldn't be there. She raised a hand to touch her forehead and recoiled, gasping, as her fingers met something hard, rough, and unyielding.

Her thoughts stumbled, tripping over themselves, as if her brain couldn't catch up with what her hands were telling her. She explored it, her breath catching in her throat. It was no hallucination; two thick, rough horns curled back from her head, as real as the floor beneath her feet.

Nausea came again. Ada had to fight the urge to scratch at her forehead, to tear these foreign objects away and to smooth over the rough skin that surrounded the bases of the horns.

Her hands shook as they traced the horns' gentle upward curve towards the back. She found that they were thick where they burst through her forehead but tapered to thin, elegant points at the end. Their texture was rough, almost like tree bark, and yet they did not feel brittle, but solid and unbreakable.

Heart pounding, she brushed her hand through her hair. That, at least, felt familiar. It was still long, spilling down to her shoulder blades in thick curls, but where once it had been a mousy brown with magenta highlights, now it had taken on an unfamiliar hue, an odd, almost ethereal shade that blended somewhere between pink and deep amber.

They dyed my hair, Ada thought, and a broken, croaking laugh came up her chest. They gave me horns and a tail and then, they died my fucking hair? Who does that?

None of this made sense. It was deranged, a fever dream - yes! None of this was real. It was just her imagination. Maybe she'd had a stroke from the heat in Frankfurt? That might explain the headache and how cold she was feeling.

Her hands moved to her face and down to her neck, fingertips tracing every strange new sensation. Her denial was still battling her bubbling sense of terror.

When she held up her hands, her stomach twisted. Her fingers looked stronger, more dexterous somehow, and at each tip, her nails were harder, sharper, somewhere between a claw and a fingernail.

They weren't quite talons, but they looked disturbingly capable of doing damage. What…what is this? She could barely process it, her mind struggling to catch up with each unfamiliar detail.

The skin of her hands—and, as Ada looked further, her arms—had also changed. Where once her skin had been fair with a warm, pink undertone, now it was a rich, earthy tone, bordering on orange with a burnt note. She held up her arm, horrified, inspecting the colour that seemed to belong to someone else, some otherworldly creature.

Her skin itself seemed thicker, with a leather-like texture that resisted when she pressed her fingertips into it, as though her body had been outfitted with a new, almost armoured quality.

Her hands trembled as they moved over her body, following her sides down to her hips. She was still in the white ribbed tank top she had worn to meet her friends. It was tucked into the same loose fitting, light blue mom jeans she had worn.

Even her white sneakers were still there, although they were covered in the same unspeakable dirt that also stained her top and jeans. On her fingers were the two familiar rings she wore every day and she saw the wooden watch on her left wrist.

Around her neck she could feel only one necklace instead of the two she'd donned. One must have been lost on her way here. But feeling the small coin-shaped pendant between her collarbones, she was glad it was this necklace that had survived.

This was her favourite necklace, the one she had bought for herself, to remind her of a truth that often felt distant and incomprehensible. Ada searched the pockets of her jeans for any clue that might tell her what happened, but she came up empty handed.

She was alone, in a scary place with no idea how she got there. She had no wallet, no change, no phone to call for help. She wouldn't even know how to explain the situation, how she was - as far as she could tell - a horned circus freak now.

As Ada moved, she felt her tail move behind her, always just out of view. She reached behind her, gently twisting it into view so she could examine it. Its surface was tough, covered in the same peculiar, brownish-orange skin that now armoured her body, with a slight ridge along the top that felt almost like plating.

The tail twitched in sync with her nerves, unpredictable and restless. The tip of her tail was flat and shaped like an arrow's head. It felt foreign and familiar all at once, as if it were part of her, but still beyond her control. She could feel her fingers on the skin of her tail, it was definitely part of her body, it had sensation.

A gnawing unease settled over her as she wondered how it was possible that this all felt so real. The whole thing made her stomach turn—this was hers now, undeniably.

In a sort of desperate humour, she noted that while everything else had changed, her body shape had stayed roughly the same. Her hips were still wide, her thighs thick, her stomach soft beneath the clothes. A flicker of annoyance stirred—of all the things to keep, why this?

She was still plus-sized, her body still her own in that one way, the curves of her form echoing back some semblance of herself despite her annoyance. Even the tattoo on her right forearm, the small, round blue bird surrounded by leaves and flowers, was still there.

It was slightly altered by the new hue of her skin but otherwise untouched. She let out a shaky breath. I'm not gone. Not completely. Now, focus, Ada.

Her mind screamed at her to find some way out of this, to move, to survive. She could still feel the pulse behind her eyes, that sickening reminder of the parasite forced into her by the creature. She didn't know if this was real or some vivid nightmare—but she had to get out.

Whatever this place is, I'm not staying. For a brief moment, she considered the fact that she was unarmed. But even if she'd had a knife or a gun, would she be able to use it? She'd never even been in a bar fight, let alone in a fight for survival on a burning ship with who-knew-what creatures around.

Still, she turned towards the door the squid-creature had come through. There was a primal force in her, telling her to move forward, not to stand still. She took a steadying breath, forcing herself to her feet as best she could, and continued putting one foot before the other.

She couldn't shake the feeling that any second now, she'd snap out of it—wake up safe in her bed, drenched in sweat but whole.

The yellowish basin she had seen earlier flickered with a sickly glow, its contents swirling with a viscous, shining liquid. Stepping closer, she shuddered, recognizing the small, slug-like creatures floating just beneath the surface.

They looked limp now, like worms trapped in some toxic sludge, but she could still recall their terrible squirming and the shrill screech of the one that had been forced into her own eye. The mere sight of the basin made her skin crawl, and she quickly averted her gaze.

Her eyes fell on a shape slumped behind the basin—a twisted, robed figure sprawled lifelessly across the floor. Oh no. Please let it be dead, Ada thought, taking a careful step forward, her pulse racing with fear and curiosity.

The creature lay contorted, but she recognized it as the same kind of creature that infected her. Its eerie, unblinking eyes stared vacantly into the void, and its tentacles hung limp against the cold floor. Relief flooded her, until she realized: whatever had killed it, it might still be around - or worse, looking for her.

Each step she took felt surreal, like walking in someone else's body. The ship shook again and again, strange organic-looking wires vibrating along the walls like tendons in a body.

Steeling herself, Ada approached the eerie, round doorway that led into an adjacent hall. The door itself pulsed slightly, its fleshy surface shifting before it peeled open like a grotesque iris. She braced herself and stepped through.

The room beyond was nothing short of nightmarish—a laboratory of sorts, where tables resembling autopsy slabs were lined up along the walls, each bearing a strange, grotesque creature in various states of exposure.

The whole place felt like a butcher's nightmare—bodies laid out like specimens, each twisted into its own grotesque display. Small, hunched beings with oversized heads and sharp, needle-like teeth lay limp across the slabs, their mouths open in menacing snarls, even in death.

One creature had skin that looked both rough and rubbery, with jagged claws curled in tight fists as if caught mid-attack. Ada's gaze shifted to another table, where a figure lay that was disturbingly similar to the woman she had seen in the pod earlier. Tall and lean, its skin was the same greenish hue, though this one appeared to be male.

His features were sharp and fierce, though unmoving, his face marked by the same pattern and war paint as the woman from the pod. Ada felt a twinge of pity—and fear. How many others had met the same fate aboard this nightmare?

I am lucky to be alive, Ada told herself, let's keep it that way.

Whatever had brought her here, it was clear that nothing was safe from these creatures' experiments. Her eyes drifted to the edge of the room, where the far wall had been blown open, leaving a jagged tear that exposed the strange, rushing skies beyond.

The narrow hallway that must have once connected the lab to another part of the ship hung broken, its floor still partially intact. Slowly, she edged toward the exposed ledge, her heart pounding as she peered out. Maybe there's a way out…

Ada made the mistake of looking down and her head began to spin again. Jesus Christ, she thought, how will I ever make it down that ledge without the wind pulling me down?

Fear twisted in her gut, but hesitation wasn't an option. Move, or die. It was that simple. Ada scolded herself for her hesitance and fear. It was either walking that small ledge or dying in this lab. So, she asked herself, which is it?

Carefully, she sidled along the ridge, one hand bracing herself against the uneven wall. The torn hull of the ship offered a dizzying view of the endless, tumultuous skies below, where bursts of light zipped through the air. She squinted, her breath catching as she made out massive shapes moving in the distance.

Dragons—actual dragons, bearing riders armed with glowing weapons. They streaked across the sky in vicious arcs, attacking the ship. Fires bloomed where the blasts hit, and the ship groaned, shuddering as it absorbed the impacts.

Then she saw them— hellish creatures clad in armour, their horned figures hurtling toward the ship like creatures from a nightmare. The wind carried the distant clanging of metal and the roars of both dragons and warriors, a chaotic symphony of battle. Her stomach clenched. The ship was under attack and the battle was far from over.

Suddenly, a shadow passed overhead, and Ada froze, her heart seizing. A figure landed on the ledge before her with a swift, agile grace, barely making a sound as her boots struck the floor.

Ada's breath caught. It was the green-skinned woman from the pod, her yellow eyes sharp and fierce, her expression filled with determination and disgust. Now, Ada could see the warrior was even slightly taller than her, skinny and muscular.

In one fluid motion, she drew a massive, gleaming sword, its edge catching the burning light from the explosions around them. Ada took a step back, her pulse racing as she met the towering woman's unyielding stare. The warrior's eyes burned with lethal intent as she stared at Ada, the long blade in her hand gleaming menacingly.

"Abomination! This is your end."

Her voice was harsh, her accent jagged, unfamiliar. Ada's breath caught in her throat as she instinctively raised her hands in a defensive gesture.

Her heart hammered, panic clawing at her chest, and the throbbing pain in her head intensified, pulsing behind her eyes. She winced, feeling a strange connection in her mind, almost like a strand of her consciousness reaching out and meeting with the warrior's.

Something surged between them, a visceral sensation that wasn't exactly telepathy, but still carried a dark, invasive energy. It was painful, like her head being pulled by her hair in every direction. Ada's skin tingled.

Visions rush past: a dragon's wing, a silver sword and a flash of her own face seen through the strange woman's eyes. The woman groaned, breathing heavily, just like Ada.

"My head... what is this?", she hissed.

Then she paused. Her grip on her sword relaxed—barely—and her glare shifted.

"Vlaakith blesses me this day," she said, almost to herself, her tone shifting to a begrudging acknowledgement.

"You are no thrall."

Her blade lowered, and Ada's hands fell to her sides, though she was still tense, ready to run. The warrior's expression softened just a fraction, and she took a single step back, surveying Ada clearly taking the measure of her.

The woman looked at her with a warrior's practicality, sizing her up as if Ada's survival mattered solely as an asset to her own goals.

"Together, we might survive this."

Her voice was steady but urgent.

"I am Lae'zel. We must escape this ship and find a cure before we turn into ghaik."

Ghaik? The word was foreign, spat with disgust, and Ada didn't have the faintest clue what it meant. But, realistically, what was she to do but nod at the women with the big sword and follow her in hopes of surviving this at her side?

Ada felt as though she'd walked straight into a war zone, with no compass and no allies, save this fierce woman who seemed to understand what was happening.

Laezel did not seem to need any verbal response from her, because she turned and continued down the legde, clearly expecting her to follow. Ada fell in line behind her, her heartbeat still racing as she tried not to look down the ledge to the landscape flashing by below her feet.

The ship's halls twisted and turned, each corner looking more grotesque than the last. The ship had begun to sway dangerously. Whoever was steering this vessel, they must also be involved in the fight. Ada struggled to keep her balance on the undulating floor, which gave slightly underfoot, like stepping on living tissue.

They hadn't made it far when they encountered a pack of small, bat-like creatures with red, leathery skin and needle-sharp teeth.

Lae'zel leaped forward with a ferocious cry, her sword slicing through the air. She made quick work of them, her movements swift and purposeful.

Ada was torn between horror and marvel and the ruthlessness and efficiency of the warrior before her. She felt absolutely useless and paralyzed with fear. She just stared at the creatures and winced at the sounds they made when the greatsword hit them.

Suddenly there was a movement behind her. Ada turned. One of the bat-demons had snuck up on her.

This close, Ada could see the eerie light and her own face reflected in the black pools of its eyes. The creature moved to strike her with its claws and Ada had nothing to defend her with.

She was too stunned to flee. She just thrust her arms out in front of her as if to push the creature away.

Get away from me, Ada thought desperately, like she was hoping to manifest a defence where there was none. As if that would be any use.

But to her surprise, there was a deep rumble, somewhere between a war drum and an old church organ. It was more a sensation than a noise.

For a moment, the air between her and the creature was filled with pink-golden waves. Like particles floating in a beam of sunlight.

At the same time, the bat creature was pushed away from her, reeling to the other end of the cavernous room they were in. It made a pitiful sound and fell to the floor, no longer moving.

Ada still stood there, inert with her arms outstretched and her eyes open in surprise.

What was that?

The force in her voice had felt raw, like magic bending to her will - or rather her fear - without her knowing how. Had that really been her? What had she done? Lae'zel shot her a glance, a mix of approval and suspicion flashing in her fierce eyes.

"You are a spellcaster, then."

Laezel's tone was unimpressed and calm.

"Next time, I expect you to react faster, instead of freezing like a frightened child."

Ada was overwhelmed with the harsh words thrown at her. She was still processing what had just happened. She had done that. Had she? How?

But there was no time to dawdle. Laezel was already moving again and all Ada could do was follow her. Ada would have to survive this to ask her companion what exactly she had meant with "spellcaster".

As they advanced through the endless corridors, the air thickened with the scent of sulphur and blood, and Ada's senses swirled under the chaos. Distant cries echoed through the hallways—sharp, pained sounds that made Ada's skin prickle.

Flickers of violent, reddish light flashed from deeper within the ship, like intermittent lightning. It was as if the whole place was caught in the throes of a violent storm.

Ada couldn't shake the odd, vibrating sensation in her skull—like her thoughts were not entirely her own, her brain resonating with something far beyond her control. It wasn't the same force she'd felt earlier when the bat-demon flew back. This was subtler, more insidious. It felt like a dormant instinct stirring awake—a whisper at the back of her mind.

Ahead, they came upon another pod similar to the one Ada had woken in. Inside, a woman lay trapped, her pale face pressed against the small cut in the hull, her eyes wide with terror.

She looked young, though her expression was hardened. She was calling out to them, desperately. "Get me out! Help me, hurry up!"

Ada took a hesitant step forward, her heart lurching.

"We can't just abandon her," she said, glancing at Lae'zel.

The warrior's expression was unreadable, but her impatience was clear. "Leave her, we have no time for stragglers."

Lae'zel's tone was flat, almost bored.

When Ada moved closer to the pod, Lae'zel added sharply, "This is ghaik machinery. We should not meddle with it."

Ada ignored her, her hand hovering over the surface of some kind of interface next to the pod. Something pulled at her—a previously hidden knowledge or power that seemed to originate behind her eyes.

It wasn't like before when fear had forced power through her. This was different. Eerie. Like a quiet voice guiding her movements. Her hand moved instinctively, fingers brushing over a rune on the interface's surface.

The texture was slick and cool, tingling against her skin. How do I know this? She couldn't explain it—the instinct to connect to this machinery and to touch the symbol felt natural, almost inevitable. She pressed it.

Laezel huffed her disapproval as Ada's hand made contact, but she kept ignoring the warrior. With a soft hiss, the pod door slid open, releasing the woman within. The stranger collapsed to the floor, gasping, her hands gripping the ground as she adjusted to her freedom.

Ada stood before her, hesitant but ready to help if needed. The woman rose slowly, her gaze flicking between Ada and Lae'zel with wary suspicion.

For a moment, it looked like the woman eyed Laezel's weapon, as if assessing how much of a challenge the warrior might be. Ada's own eyes lingered, taking in the new companion.

She was an elf and undeniably striking—sharp, delicate features framed by dark hair, most of it was pulled back tightly into a high thick braid that trailed down her back. Her straight bangs and the pieces framing her face did little to soften the intensity of her gaze.

Her armour was just as striking as she was. It was silver and blue with curved, flame-like pauldrons, and an ornate emblem at the centre of her chest that resembled a sunburst. On her head, the woman wore a tiara-like headpiece.

It made her look like a battle-hardened emo princess or priestess. In addition, there was an underlying wariness in her posture that made Ada feel scrutinized and watched.

The stranger didn't stay disoriented for long. With a purposeful movement, she reached back into the pod, retrieving a small, ornately carved artefact. Ada furrowed her brows, curiosity battling her unease.

"What is that?" she asked gently, hoping for an explanation. The woman's expression hardened, shutting down any hope of conversation.

"It is nothing," the woman replied, her voice smooth but guarded. "Trust me."

She turned her attention to Lae'zel, her posture shifting as she assessed the warrior.

"You have dangerous company," she said, nodding toward Lae'zel before looking back at Ada.

Her gaze hardened as she cast a skeptical glance at Lae'zel. Dangerous company? The words surprised Ada. Of course the tall mean lady with the sword was dangerous. And Ada was sufficiently terrified of her. Yet, she was very grateful to have her around on this ship full of lovecraftian nightmares.

"I've never seen a Gith and a tiefling working together", the dark-haired woman added.

Those words startled Ada. Gith? Tiefling? None of it made sense, but something in the woman's tone made her feel as if she was expected to understand.

"Sorry, what?", Ada asked, glancing between the two women in front of her.

The dark-haired elf woman shot her an irritated look, as though assessing of Ada was joking or simply stupid.

"She is a githyanki," the woman explained, emphasizing the word like a curse. "Her kind is disliked for good reason."

Ada swallowed, trying to make sense of the information. Githyanki—was that what Lae'zel was? The elf-like woman seemed to have a firm opinion on the warrior, and it wasn't positive. It sounded a lot like prejudice and it left a sour taste in Ada's mouth. Lae'zel didn't react, as though the statement was of no consequence.

Ada looked at the tall woman, thinking. If she is the Gith, I must be the... Tiefling? Not that she had any idea what that meant. But at least she now had a word for it. And words could be looked up and understood. But not right now.

"With her, our chances of survival are not so distant anymore," Ada said, trying to diffuse the tension.

She nodded toward Lae'zel, even though she wasn't entirely sure what she was endorsing. The dark-haired woman didn't seem convinced.

"If you say so," she muttered, her tone dripping with doubt.

Lae'zel only narrowed her eyes, muttering something in her own language.

"Kainyank."

The contempt was evident. Ada didn't know the meaning, but she was certain it wasn't a compliment.

They moved together through the twisted corridors, the tension thick but controlled by their shared goal of survival. Ada could feel Lae'zel's relentless drive to escape, a fierce determination that left no room for distractions.

The dark-haired woman—who had finally introduced herself as Shadowheart—had a more cautious, almost calculating way of moving, her eyes flicking to Lae'zel with thinly veiled suspicion.

Ada noticed it but couldn't grasp the deeper conflict between them. Keeping her head down, Ada focused on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to silence the questions crowding her mind.

The ship creaked and groaned, and she knew they had to keep moving before it all came crashing down.

They burst into the ship's control room, and found chaos had erupted before them.

Tentacled creatures were locked in vicious combat with a towering, horned figure. The creature was monstrous, its enormous sword swinging in brutal arcs.

A demon, Ada thought, horror churning in her stomach.

The air was thick with energy, the clash of steel against steel accompanied by war cries and monstrous snarls that filled the room. Lae'zel's eyes flashed, her stance shifting as she prepared for battle.

Ada's pulse pounded, her nerves raw, but something deeper stirred within her—a strange confidence she couldn't explain. It felt as though the power from before still hummed in her veins, waiting to be called forth. Not through fear this time, but through sheer will.

"Please, be safe!" she whispered, her voice steady despite her racing heart.

Instinctively her hands reached out to touch the two women's shoulders with the tips of her fingers. A soft, pink-golden light flared around her, expanding outward and enclosing herself and her companions in a shimmering aura, almost like a hooded cape.

Lae'zel glanced down her front for a split second, eyebrows raised in surprise, before returning to her usual scowl, but nodding at Ada. Shadowheart nodded to her as well, she was ready, too.

Ada's own breath caught as she felt a surge of warmth pulse through her chest—a strange, comforting presence, as if she'd wrapped them all in a protective shield. But there was no more time to reflect.

Lae'zel leapt into the fray, her blade carving through the nearest creature with brutal efficiency, every swing a precise, deadly arc. Ada couldn't help but shiver at the ferocity, her pulse quickening.

Shadowheart wasn't far behind, moving in with surprising grace despite the weight of her armour. She swung a heavy mace, its blunt end crunching against the skull of a bat-like creature that lunged at her. The sound of impact was sickening, but Shadowheart didn't hesitate—she struck again, fluidly switching between shield bashes and powerful swings of her weapon.

Just as Ada thought they might be overwhelmed, a flash of bright light burst from Shadowheart's hand, striking a creature mid-leap and sending it sprawling.

Ada blinked, stunned. The light seemed almost like a burning brand, sizzling against the creature's skin before fading. Was that magic as well?

Whatever it was, it worked, and Shadowheart didn't stop moving, cutting down another creature with a quick, decisive blow to its side.

Despite the overwhelming fear, Ada found herself moving forward too, adrenaline pushing her past the terror. She didn't want to be dead weight.

Lae'zel's war cries cut through the chaos, and Shadowheart moved with a ruthless ferocity that seemed almost at odds with her regal appearance.

Ada tried to stay close, hoping that whatever strange power had surged through her before would rise up again if needed.

Another group of the bat-like demons descended from the left, their screeching piercing through the din. Ada swallowed her fear, raising her hands instinctively as one of the creatures swooped toward her.

Like before, Ada felt herself bristle with repulsion at these bat-like creatures. They were too present and too close to her.

Again, she pushed out her arms before her, shooing them away from her with her mind.

And again, the world obeyed.

Another pink-golden shock wave, another grumbling sound and two other creatures were explosively brushed away from her and her two companions and into a pile of debris.

The force of the spell reverberated through her body, and Ada stumbled back.

I did it again, she thought, I pushed them off. With my... magic? Or was it the worm in my head? But it didn't feel like it did with the pod earlier?

A horrifying shriek pulled her attention to the center of the room. The mind flayer, its tentacles twitching with eerie delight, had just cracked open the demon's skull, its fingers sinking into the pulpy mess of brain matter.

Ada gagged, bile rising in her throat as the creature slurped the demon's brain out like a grotesque feast. Horror rooted her in place—how could something like this exist? Those were brain-eating squid-monsters. And they had touched her, implanted something in her brain.

What if that meant she was already marked as their supper?

I need to run, screamed her inner voice, I need to get away. Why can I not move?!

"Focus!" Lae'zel barked, cutting through her thoughts. "We must reach the transponder!"

But Ada was still frozen in place, watching herself like from an outside perspective.

If I don't move, I'll die.

That thought punched through the haze of panic, forcing her feet to respond before her brain could catch up. She couldn't afford to freeze—not now. Ada forced herself to move, sidestepping the mess and the slumped demon corpse as she pushed toward the helm.

Her eyes locked on the console—a pulsating, alien mechanism that seemed to almost breathe. It was at the far end of the room, several beasts between it and Ada.

One of them looked like a wild boar after a forest fire; grotesquely burned and charred. Its eyes were glowing like dying embers. It let out a frenzied, broken squeal as it charged at Ada.

Shadowheart was a few meters away from her, she had just taken down another flying creature and Laezel was behind both of them, just plunging her silver great sword into one of the larger demons.

Ada did not know what to do, the boar came straight towards her, it's hellish eyes fixed on her in determination. She was frozen to the spot again.

Everything in her screamed.

Move! Get out of the way! Come on!

And then, just before the boar could crash into her, Ada lifted her right hand in a small waving motion, as if to say her goodbyes to the boar, her companions and this entire nightmare. And Ada disappeared in a veil of pink-golden mist.

The next moment, Ada was back, the veil lifting from her again. But now, she was several meters ahead, at the far end of the room.

Had she just jumped here?

Teleported?

Ada looked behind her to the boar who had charged into nothing and her companions who now took it upon themselves to deal with it. What had just happened?

Ada turned forward again, looking out the glassy front of the ship they were on. Right in front of her was the control panel. Tentacle-like tendrils floated before her, their ends pulsing softly, drifting like jellyfish in deep water, defying gravity.

She grasped two of them, fitting them together to form something like a taut, living bowstring. She hesitated, her hand hovering over it. The mind flayer turned toward them, its cold, alien eyes flicking over Ada and narrowing with what she could only interpret as disdain.

A chill swept over her. Was it angry that she dared to approach the console?

Just as her hand poised to pull it, the entire room shook violently. A massive red dragon latched onto the hull, roaring and unleashing a torrent of flame.

For a moment, Ada forgot how to breathe.

Her brain struggled to process the sheer, impossible reality before her—a dragon. An actual, honest-to-god dragon. The kind of thing you read about in fantasy novels or see on TV, but never, ever expect to see in real life.

It was breathtaking. Huge, terrifying, majestic. Its scales gleamed like molten rubies, and its wings spread wide enough to blot out the sky.

The sheer power radiating from it made her stomach twist with primal fear, but beneath that fear was a flicker of stunned admiration.

A dragon.

It was beautiful and horrific at once.

Her mind reeled. The creature roared again, and reality crashed back into focus as it unleashed a wave of flame, this time directly into she ship's helm. Ada barely had time to duck behind the console, but even from behind cover, the heat was suffocating.

It didn't touch her directly, but she could feel the scorching air singe the hair on her arms, the skin on her back prickling as if sunburned. The metal console was almost too hot to touch, but she gritted her teeth and grasped the tentacle-like tendrils anyway.

Just as she pulled them taut, the ship lurched again, tilting savagely. Ada lost her grip and was thrown across the room, her shoulder slamming into the curved wall.

Pain blossomed and Ada gasped, but she couldn't afford to give in. With a snarl of determination, she dragged herself upright, her new, stronger muscles protesting but holding firm.

Ada crawled back to the console, grabbing the tendrils again. She could feel the power vibrating through her palms, like plucking a string connected to the ship's heart.

She took a breath, bracing herself, and pulled.

She heard Lae'zel shout something, but it was drowned out by the roar of the ship tearing through dimensions.

The room distorted—space itself warping as stars blurred into streaks of light.

Gravity seemed to collapse, and the ship twisted through the void. Ada's muscles gave out, and she fell and crashed against the wall, vision swimming, narrowly missing a jagged hole torn into the hull.

Across from her, an injured squid creature glared at her, pinned under debris, its cold, alien eyes radiating pure hatred.

Ada felt its disgust, a seething loathing that made her recoil—yet she was too exhausted to move.

Then, another impact—a chunk of debris flew loose, striking Ada in the side of the head. Dazed, she barely registered the ground slipping out from under her before she was falling—spiralling through open air.

The ship was gone, and the dark earth was rushing up to meet her. The wind whipped at her face, tearing the breath from her lungs.

This was it. This was how it ends. This is how I die, she thought. Or how I finally wake up from this nightmare.

But didn't people usually wake up when they fell in a dream? Was this real after all? Her heart pounded, her hands shook.

She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the end, when suddenly—blue light enveloped her.

It felt like falling into a warm, bubbling pool—soft, protective, cradling her descent. The impact never came. Instead, the ground seemed to catch her gently, as if lowering her into safety.

Then the light faded, and Ada crumpled onto soft earth. Her head throbbed, vision dimming

The last thing she saw before unconsciousness claimed her was the dark sky overhead, littered with unfamiliar stars.

Darkness swept over her—total, silent, and consuming.