She opened her eyes.
The ceiling above her was dark and curved, shimmering with faint veins of blue-white light that moved slowly, almost imperceptibly, like bioluminescence deep beneath an ocean. The glow pulsed in rhythmic waves, neither steady nor mechanical, but alive. The air carried warmth, perfectly balanced, a temperate embrace that wrapped around her like the room itself had been calibrated for her comfort.
Morgan’s breath caught.
Where am I?
She pushed herself upright. Her jeans clung stiffly to her legs, her T-shirt rumpled from sleep. But her sneakers were gone. Bare feet touched a floor that felt smooth as polished stone butwarmer, as if the material retained a living heat. She swallowed hard, scanning the space around her.
The room was like nothing she had ever seen in her life.
Gentle curves shaped every wall, flowing seamlessly into one another without corners or visible joins. The surfaces shimmered faintly under the dim light, a texture somewhere between metal and glass, but softer, responsive. The ceiling arched high above her, its glowing tracery shifting with a slow, hypnotic grace. Along one wall, a shelf seemed to grow from the structure itself, holding nothing except a single translucent vessel filled with a luminous blue liquid.
There were no windows. No obvious vents. No lamps. No seams in the walls or floor. Just a faint hum beneath everything, a low undertone she could feel more than hear.
Her pulse quickened.
This isn’t a hotel room. This isn’t a clinic. This isn’t… human.
Dread and awe coiled together in her chest.
She slipped off the bed, her bare feet meeting the warm floor. The room seemed to sense her movement; the light along the ceiling brightened slightly, like an attentive creature responding to her presence.
Her heart raced.
What happened? How did I get here?
Flashes of last night returned—her father, the suffocating dinner, the cigarette on the balcony, the strange hum?—
And the blinding light.
Morgan pressed a hand to her forehead. A dizzy wave rolled through her, but it passed quickly, leaving only rising panic in its place.
Was I kidnapped? Did someone break into the apartment? How did they get past the building’s security? How did they take me without anyone noticing?
She wrapped her arms around herself, her breath shallow.
This has to be some kind of hostage situation.
But that thought collapsed as quickly as it formed. There were no ropes. No restraints. No cameras. No human architecture of any kind.
This room did not come from Earth.
Oh, god. This can’t be real. This can’t?—
A soft, controlled hiss broke through her thoughts.
Morgan froze.
On the far side of the room, a curved seam she hadn’t noticed before split open in a smooth, fluid motion. The walls parted like living tissue responding to a silent command.
The door—if it could even be called that—slid open.
And someone stood there.
CHAPTER 6
The figure in the doorway stood motionless, and for a moment Morgan could do nothing but stare. Her breath halted as her eyes tried—and failed—to make sense of what she was seeing. At first glance the silhouette looked almost human: tall, upright, framed neatly within the curved, living-metal doorway. But the more she focused, the more everything slipped out of alignment. The proportions were subtly wrong. The stillness held a precision that no normal body could maintain. Even the atmosphere seemed to shift faintly around the presence.
