In the classroom for anatomy, the instructor spends fifteen minutes going over labs rules for the new students admitted to the medical school: be quiet, show respect for the donor, handle instruments properly, and if you feel unwell, don't push through it. Crouch down against the wall. The students hold their breath, their expressions ranging from solemn to anxious as the remarkably young teaching assistant puts on a pair of gloves, walks to the operating table, and lifts the light green cloth. He picks up the scalpel and moves it along the marked incision line. The blade advances, and the skin parts. A retching sound comes from somewhere behind him. The instructor remains calm, long accustomed to such scenes.

Мы идем вместе сквозь бесконечные ледники, терпеливо ожидая миг, что будет принадлежать только нам.

The wind brushes past my ears as a massive flowering tree stands in the distance, its lush leaves blocking out the sky and the sun. Countless tiny flowers cover its canopy that stretches toward the clouds. Flower petals descend around me. I reach out to catch them, but they melt like snow. The wind falls silent as the light gradually dims. In the blink of an eye, I'm enveloped in darkness.

This Metaflux storm in the Arctic has lasted for four days so far. It's also the fourth day since I lost contact with Zayne.

The train station in the neighboring city is bustling with people. I anxiously wait for the next train to Linkon City. Although the mission was completed successfully, it looks like I'm going to be late for my date with Zayne.

The spring wind blows fiercely, and the clouds outside the window constantly shift, spilling across my sight. A moment ago, they looked like the plastic flowers that decorate a table. Now they resemble steak that's been finely diced on a dinner plate.

The club is dimly lit, the dull glow of ceiling lamps creating a relaxed atmosphere. Standing next to Zayne, I scan the area, taking in the unfamiliar faces and... their companions.

As night falls, banners flutter on the altar. A special incense has been placed in the brazier. It burns with a dazzling light as a rich scent permeates. People put on masks representing twelve mythological beasts and Fangxiangshi the exorcist, and dance majestically amidst flying sparks. The passionate singing seems to have the power to pierce the heavens. Together with the afterglow of the setting sun, it paints the people’s faces red.

The sun is warm, and the area under the tree has returned to normal. Zayne sits in front of a mountain of bamboo slips, flipping them open with one hand and placing them on the long table with the other. A click startles me.