The truck has no windows. No way to see into the outside world. All I know is that after a while, the truck comes to a stop. And then, I come back on the other side with my backpack, both of my arms being held by men, being led down a series of dingy hallways. I halfheartedly try to wrestle free, but there’s no point. They are clearly far stronger than me. Without even seeming to notice my attempts, they drag me through a door marked maintenance personnel only. There are a few strange generators which hum as we walk past. Behind the last one is a staircase that leads into a part of the building which is underground.

The underground portion is different. The walls and ceiling are painted black. Even with the lights on, it looks as if I’m always staring into an empty void.

“‘Ey! Anyone down here?” says the man to my left.

“Yeah, I’m here,” says a third man who comes around the corner. I don’t really see what he looks like since I’m looking at the floor, but his voice gives me the impression he’s not quite as “tough” as the other two. “Ooh, what have you got here?” he asks enthusiastically.

“You’ll never believe it,” says the man holding my right arm. “This cute thing was attacking some of our men in the dark world. She had a stand, and even an animal sidekick!”

“She’s awoken?” the third man says. “But she can’t be older than sixteen.”

“Don’t take her for granted,” the right man continues. “She is a tough one. She is to be kept under maximum security.”

“You know what that means, right?” The left man says. “She must be the one who compromised Agent EU7-33. We found her in Enchantment City, so she would’ve gone to that school.”

“Well well well,” the third man says, stepping up to me. “You made us snuff out a new agent, and a potentially highly useful one. A young woman who works around children, who already knew how to lure them in and had practice doing so? We couldn’t have asked for a more ideal recruit. And you ruined all of that. So you’re going to help make up for it by getting us a lot of money.”

“That’s the great thing about business,” the left man says. “One door closes, another opens. Now we have an adorable little white girl with curly blonde hair. The bidders will go absolutely wild for this one.”

“Anything to say for yourself?” the third man says. I don’t reply, and instead stare intently at the floor. He starts brushing through my hair with my fingers, which makes me feel so gross that I might shave my head after I get out of here.

“We should check out what’s in her backpack,” the right man says. “Wouldn’t put it past this one to have some sort of contingency plan.”

“I’ll check it,” the third man says. While he walks behind me, I say a quick, silent prayer that Ted bites him very hard. My prayer is answered at once, as the sound of the unzipping of my backpack is followed by a “YEOWCH!”

“What’s the matter, Agent?” the right man asks.

“SHE’S GOT A WILD ANIMAL BACK HERE!” he yells. I hear a bunch of thuds behind me, like the third man is stumbling around, but the two men on my sides don’t move an inch.

“YER VERMIN!” Ted cries, his accent going even more southern in his rage. “YER SCUM! SCUM O’ THE EARTH! I’LL TAKE YE DOWN!”

“GET OFF OF ME!” the third man yells.

“Just get him under control!” the left man barks at him. “Come on, let’s take the new girl to her room.”

“HE’S GETTING AWAY!” the third man yells. “COME BACK HERE!” I hear loud footsteps moving quickly further away.

“Idiot,” the left man says under his breath. The two start briskly leading me down the hall again.

It’s not long before we reach our destination. A door is opened, and I’m roughly thrown inside.

I immediately push myself up to a sitting position and look around. It’s a dirty room, with no decorations on the walls, and a metal toilet in the back corner next to a small sink. There are several mattresses sitting around near the walls, most of which have disgusting stains on them, which I don’t even want to think about the origin of. All of them are currently empty, except for one. On a mattress in the middle of the back wall lies a girl with olive skin and black hair, wearing a purple undershirt. My first thought is that she looks a little bit like Yonca, but there are clear differences; this girl is taller, she has a wider nose, and her eyes are more round and slanted. She doesn’t seem to register me coming in at all; her face is completely vacant, her eyes half-closed, as if she’s half-asleep.

“Welcome to your new home... Well, actually, it probably won't be for long,” one of the men says from the doorway.

“We had to drug her out real good after she tried to get out,” the other says, referring to the olive-skinned girl. “So no escape attempts for you, okay blondy?”

I don’t give any answer.

“Shall we start the breaking process then?” one of them says.

“No dude. It's late on a Friday. I wanna go home,” the other complains.

“Fine. We'll get started on Monday. Get some beauty sleep, girls.” The door slams shut, and all is silent.

I turn towards the door. It is a solid block of steel. There isn’t even a doorknob. It must only open from the other side. I closely examine the edges of the door, to see if there’s any way to take it off the hinges, or maybe if there’s a way for Ted to sneak around it. However, it seems airtight.

I think about Ashley and the others. Do they know what happened to me? Will they know how to find me? Could they be on their way right now? Or are they as lost and confused as I feel? Are they combing the apartment complex looking for some sign of me?

No… no, they have to know something. I got Collin out… he would’ve told the others what he saw. The others would be smart enough to figure out I got stuck in the Metaverse.

But how could they possibly trace me back here? I don’t know where I am. Even if I had a phone, I couldn’t give them any address. I don’t even know what city I’m in. Only that, based on the time I was inside of the truck, I have to still be in the central Texas region.

I turn back towards the other girl. For a brief moment, I notice that she seems to be awake now, watching. But, as soon as she sees me looking, she turns away from me, facing the wall.

With Ted gone for the time being, I could use a friend to talk to.

“Hi... what's your name?” I ask her.

She doesn’t respond. Maybe she’s shy?

“I'm Zoe,” I introduce myself. “I just got here a few minutes ago.”

No response.

“One of those men said you tried to escape,” I continue. “You must be so strong. Maybe with both of us together, we can get out of here.”

“You don't have to worry. Didn't you hear them?” she says. Her tone sounds biting and bitter.

“Huh?” I ask, confused.

“You won't be here long,” she explains. “You're like a precious gem to them. Girls like me are a dime a dozen.”

I contemplate this. She thinks they see me as more valuable than her. Come to think of it, they did say something like that in the hallway. Something about my curly blonde hair.

Girls like me are a dime a dozen… Why? She’s certainly not ugly. It doesn’t make any sense.

I feel guilty, but I don’t know why. My thoughts and feelings are so confused as I try to figure out the meaning of everything. I don’t try to talk to her again for a while, and instead find the least stained mattress in the room to curl up on and process everything.

I knock on the door to the office. Ms. Patel answers, and gives us a false sweet smile when she sees us. “Good afternoon, ladies. Please step inside.”

Anja and I are silent as we step into the office. Her office is tidy and sterile. Neither her desk or the walls show any sign of a life outside of work, no husband or children. Only Kelly Patel on a golden block on the desk and neat stacks of paper. Behind the desk is a bookshelf, which I notice seems to have a gothic literature theme. I spot Frankenstein , Dracula and a huge black book of the complete works of Edgar Allen Poe.

“Take a seat, will you?” she says, taking her own seat behind the desk and gesturing at two red-colored armchairs which Anja and I sit in.

“So, let me guess,” I say. “You'll go rescue Zoe from her captors, and in return you don't want us to rat you out or beat your palace. Is that why we’re here?”

“Very to-the-point, I see,” she responds, peering at us closely. “I only wish to ensure that you don’t do anything hasty which could get yourselves into worse trouble.”

“What?” I say incredulously. “My girlfriend is currently in the hands of child molesters! Ones that you were allowing to stroll into your apartment complex and grab whatever children they wanted! You’re the one who’s gonna be in big trouble.”

“Ah, she's your girlfriend, is she? Not to worry. She is in no immediate danger. I personally have seen to that.”

I huff at her and put my head back. “Oh good, you told the child molesters to wait thirty minutes before raping the next one. What a hero you are, we're so grateful.”

Ms. Patel sighs out loud, looking annoyed. “You're difficult, you know that?”

“I get that a lot,” I respond.

She spins around in her chair a single time, and then leans over the desk. “You seem to think you have what’s going on here figured out, but the things you believe are not true. I am not ‘letting them stroll in and grab whatever children they want.’”

“Then explain why they were just dragging away a little boy!” Anja spits at her. “From right inside your office, no less.”

“That was a voluntary transaction between the parents of the child and the company,” Ms. Patel says. “I had no part in that.”

“But it was to pay for your rent,” Anja counters. “How much did you pressure them to pay you before they decided to sell off one of their children?”

“Some parents don’t want their children,” Ms. Patel says, shrugging nonchalantly. “Can you really blame them?”

Before I know it, I’m getting to my feet and slamming both hands onto her desk threateningly. She is startled back into her chair, but then she meets my eyes fiercely.

“Go ahead,” she says slyly. “Attack me. I can tell you want to.”

“Don’t worry, we will,” Anja says, putting her hand on my arm. “Your other self is going to feel our wrath soon enough.”

“Ha ha ha ha ha,” Ms. Patel says, clearly and coldly enunciating each laugh. She spins away from us in her chair and looks towards her bookshelf. For a moment, all she does is admire it lovingly. Then, she says, “Go ahead. Destroy my other self. Add a second dead body to your count, and then keep pretending that you’re so much better than me.”

My insides, previously burning with rage towards her, suddenly turn icy, as the memory of Ms. Truman vomiting tar swims into my consciousness. I sit back down in my chair.

“We haven’t killed anyone,” Anja retorts. “Your friends did that. We would’ve given her a chance to make a better life.”

“A savvy entrepreneur keeps no friends,” Ms. Patel says simply. She spins back towards us. “Whatever you tell yourselves to sleep at night, her death was the inevitable result of your actions. You made her feel such shame that she was more or less driven to suicide. And I can’t do anything to keep your girlfriend safe if I feel so awful that I hang myself. And so we reach an impasse.”

“We don’t need you to help us,” I tell her. “We'll do it ourselves, fuck you very much.”

She laughs genuinely this time, hard enough to roll around in her office chair. Finally, she leans back over the desk at us, wiping away a tear, and says, “And yet you didn’t even know they had security. You know nothing about what’s going on here, little girls.”

“You don't know anything about us either,” I challenge her.

“Oh, really?” She guffaws at us. She starts spinning in her chair again, and it’s starting to piss me off. “Well, I do happen to know that your girlfriend is Zoe Parker, daughter of Abram and Marie Parker. I know that you have several more friends in your little gang who are here on my property right now, waiting for your orders. I know that you know the exact location your girlfriend is being held, and I know who gave you the information!”

Anja and I glance at each other again.

Okay. So she knows a few things about us, I guess.

Ms. Patel smirks at us, deeply satisfied with our lack of a rebuttal. “Don't you care about your little transvestite friend and her whore of a mother? You know I can get rid of them, in an instant. I could've done it last week. I could do it whenever I want! I hold all the chips. I am in control.”

“Don't call her that,” Anja scolds her.

“What?” Ms. Patel asks, sneering.

“Don’t call Charlotte a ‘transvestite,’” Anja says. “It’s an outdated, derogatory term.”

“Is that really what you care about right now?” Ms. Patel says incredulously.

“Yes,” Anja answers firmly, as serious as I’ve ever seen her.

Ms. Patel leans back in her chair and breathes out a very long and exasperated sigh. She silently shakes her head to herself. Then, she seems to snap. She leaps out of her chair and begins ranting.

“Okay, I see now. I see that you two are a couple of heroes. Want to die a hero's death too? Ignore me and go back to my mansion. See what horrors await. Either way, I'm going to the club to get Zoe out of there. Because, the truth is, I actually don't care what you do!” She knocks over her chair to the floor pointlessly, and then starts picking the stacks of paper on her desk and throwing them.

“I could WIPE ALL OF YOU OUT!” she screams. “I could give your names to the bad men and have them sell ALL OF YOU off to rich people and politicians, but I'm not going to do that, because it's simply NOT WORTH MY TIME. You play no part in my plans and you are no threat to me!” Out of paper to throw, she picks up her golden name block and chucks it in between Anja and I’s heads, to which Anja instinctively ducks. The block flies straight into the door and gets embedded into the wood, half of it still sticking out. Then, she slams her hands onto her desk, mirroring my own position from earlier.

“You get scared and run home, I win. You go back to my mansion and die, I win. You go back to my mansion and beat me, I still win. That's the truth. You take down the whole fucking human trafficking empire? I don't give a fuck. I STILL WIN! So go ahead and do whatever you want. I don’t fucking care. It means nothing to me. I will end up on top, no matter what!” She turns away from us and starts kicking her chair. “This is why I will NEVER have children. Children are like weeds that SCREAM!” She then picks up her chair, lifts it over her head, and then brings it down onto her desk, causing the legs of the desk to give way and let the entire thing crash to the floor.

Then, her tantrum is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Ms. Patel says in a cheery voice, although she’s still breathing heavily.

A police officer walks in. “You called abou-” he is struck dumb mid sentence by the sight of the room.

“Oh, don’t mind the mess!” Ms. Patel says. “Yes, if you would please escort these children away? There’s been a recent kidnapping nearby, and I don’t believe it’s any time for children to be playing about.”

“You’re sure right about that,” the officer says. He gets out a pair of handcuffs and starts putting them onto Anja.

“Oh, yes, I suppose these are for our safety too, aren’t they?” Anja says, her voice oozing with sarcasm.

“That’s right. For your safety,” he says gruffly. Neither Anja and I resist as we’re cuffed and escorted to the back of a police car.

And, that’s it. We’ve been defeated. Our adventure is over.

Except, of course, for the fact that the others in our team are still hanging around the apartment, ready to strike whether or not Ms. Patel reappears with Zoe. And the fact that the officer is taking Zoe and I to the police station, the exact place we need to be right now to carry out the next stage of our plan.