It was just another evening in the port city of Reijmerstok, wet and miserable like many before it, and no doubt many after it. The sea winds have brought in another storm, due to which the residents retired to their homes eariler than usual. The heavy raindrops pelted the grey streets, creating a curtain of water through which one could barely see a few feet. Using the secrecy of this downpour a silhouette moved like a whisper through the winding back alleys, a heavy cloak obscuring it's features even if one were to notice it. Moving fast and with a purpose, the figure navigated the maze of streets, pausing for not but a second. Making one last turn, it finally found itself at it's destination.
A small bar on the street corner, a dilapidated mess decades past it's prime would serve as it's respite from the rain. After pausing for a moment to check whether it was followed, the grey spectre opened the small door with a heavy creak and entered.
The inside of the bar was just as old and broken as it's exterior. The purple wallpaper was peeling on more spots than it could be counted, and multiple floor boards needed replacing. The ancient leather chairs were not cleaned in ages, and many were torn at the seams, revealing the cheap filling of the cushions. Small dusty lamps, fixated on the walls barely illuminated the small room. Sitting behind the counter, the old ownder was reading that morning's newspaper, not even reacting to the stranger that entered moments earlier, merely wetting his finger and flipping another page.
Reaching from under it's cloak and pulling back the hood, the silhouette revealed a woman in her late twenties. The dim light seemed drawn to her porcelain white skin, giving her face an otherworldly glow that made her stand out like a beacon in the dark sea of shadows. Her deep green eyes scanned the room like a hawk, quickly finding their target. After a moment of disbelief that made her mouth slightly open, the woman's eyes fired with life, and a small smile formed on her lips.
In the farthest corner, illuminated by a torch on the table, sat a duo of men, with a third one leaning to the wall just next to them. the duo seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as they recognized their companion, and one of them raised an arm in a greeting. They were two of the many scholars of the city, and this establishment was their meeting spot, where they shared knowledge and ideas some would consider dangerous. The one greeting the woman was a member of an underground league that planned to overthrow the government and establish a new regime, and a leader of it's eastern cell. The large man sitting across from him was his second in command, a lecturer at a local university. Their revolutionary movement was picking up steam over the last couple of months, and today's meeting was supposed to finalize the details of their initial strike that would reveal them to the world and hopefully bring down the corrupt system they were all suffering under.
None of that mattered to the young woman at the moment though, herself a leader of the central cell of the movement, as her attention was completely focused on the third man.
Unlike the other two, who wore heavy hooded cloaks, the man was starkly different. Wearing a light grey hoodie, jeans and sneakers, holding an open book in one hand and scratching his scruffy beard with the other, which held an ornate fountain pen, he was staring right at her through a pair of glasses. The unusual attire, completely foreign in this world, immediatelly gave him away to the woman, who was now making her way across the room.
As she approached the table, the two men stood up slightly to greet her properly, but were quickly confused as she instead passed them, ignoring them completely, and stopped before the strange man.
"I have finally found you, writer," she spoke to him, and the sudden address made the man, who already prepared his pen to to start writing, stop. Looking up, his eyes met hers, before quickly darting to the sides, confusion plastered over his face. Looking back at her, he was once again met with an unbroken gaze. His eyes widened for a moment, before he looked back down and quickly scribbled something in the book.
Suddenly the flickering of the candle ceased, and the two other men froze in the middle of getting up from the table. the sound of the rain outside stopped, as a heavy silence fell on the world. The man, previously shocked, now had eyes of a predator looking at it's prey, sharp and focused. Slowly and with a deep growl, he spoke a single word.
"How?"
The word made the room shake unnaturally, the walls contorting in unnatural shapes, melting and twisting. This did not disturb the woman, however, who was still looking directly at him with a determined look.
"I seek answers, writer. I have been looking for you fo-"
"HOW?" He interrupted her, his voice not a growl anymore, but a roar that made the room splinter into a million different pieces, as if a mirror was broken. And still, she did not flinch.
They stood like that for multiple seconds, before she slowly reached beneath her cloak, and prodused a small handkerchief with something wrapped in it. unwrapping it revealed a small flat piece of metal, it's top side covered in what seemed to be broken glass.
"I have found this, many years ago," she said gently.
"Fucking hell, I knew I forgot something..." the man sighed, scratching his head. And then, before she could even react, he scribbled something new in his book.
The woman felt her entire body freeze up, and fear gripped her heart. Unable to move, all she could do was watch as the man took the broken phone from her outstretched hand. As soon as it was in his graps, both him and it disappeared into thin air, as if they were never there. After a moment, the spell over her was canceled and she once again regained agency over her body. Looking around the bar in a panic, she could not spot the man anywhere. She was cursing herself for showing him the only link to their existence she had. She cursed herself for believing she could talk to him normally. As the two men beside her looked at her like she was crazy, she made one last desperate attempt.
"Please...PLEASE, I NEED ANSWERS!" she screamed, her voice filling the small room.
Silence.
"Please...I beg of you...I need to know..."
Silence.
Her face twisted in despair as she slumped to the ground in defeat. She was looking for this meeting for decades, and it ended before it even began due to her own stupid mistake.
As she was staring into the wooden boards like this, tears welling up in her eyes, she noticed that the sound of the storm outside went quiet again. Looking up, a glimmer of hope in her eyes again, she could once again see the man, now standing at the entrance. Clumsily picking herself up, she ran after him to the street outside.
Slipping on the wet step outside, she barely caught herself from falling to the dark pavement. Looking around to find the man, she noticed that the outside stood still just like the bar inside, the many raindrops hanging in the air like small jewels. The man stood slightly down the street, turned towards her. He spoke with a gentle voice that reverberated across her entire body.
"I do not have the answer to the question you seek." He raised his arm and snapped his fingers.
Immediatelly a sound could be heard. A loud rumbling coming from one of the other streets, as if something massive was approaching. It steadily grew louder, accompanied by bright lights that illuminated the frozen raindrops. And then a large locomotive appeared from around the corner, it's wheels running on thin air, mass of steam engulfing the entire street. It slowly stopped, and a compartment opened it's doors behind the man, a warm light from inside shining at his back.
"But, if you wish to tell your story nonetheless, Cassandra, then hop on."