Today, the teenagers were taken up onto the wall for a tour.

  From the outside, the fortress looked almost modern. High reinforced walls were lined with narrow firing slits, and machine guns protruded from them like mechanical eyes. On the roof and on several distant towers stood rows of missile launchers angled toward the horizon.

  Above it all shimmered a magical dome.

  Max felt as though he had stepped into the dream of some science fiction writer – a human stronghold in another world, capable of vanishing beneath a powerful force shield at the first sign of attack. The soldiers explained that the barrier was powered by artifacts studied and adapted here, in this world. The shield consumed magical energy.

  Max already suspected where that energy came from.

  The fortress housed many of the “pale-faces,” as he and Ruslan had nicknamed the people whose magic was regularly extracted by the researchers.

  From the soldiers, Max learned that the most frequent attackers were gigantic monsters, magically bred until they reached the size of small hills. Rockets were reserved for those. But sometimes, instead of beasts, true gray humanoid orcs came charging at the walls. One soldier even showed them photos on his phone. The images displayed mutilated corpses of massive gray creatures – an unsettling sight.

  They call them orcs, Max thought. In his imagination, orcs had been green, not nearly so enormous, and certainly not that horrifying.

  “When you see that shapeless mountain of muscle sprinting toward you,” the soldier said, shaking his head, “bullets tear chunks out of it, blood sprays everywhere, and it doesn’t even slow down. It just keeps coming, screaming, swinging that huge axe… Gives you chills.”

  Max glanced at Yulia, who was wandering along the outer edge of the wall, carefully searching the grass for something only she could see. She felt his gaze, turned, and grinned brightly.

  She was far too cheerful for a dead girl.

  He remembered the previous night – how they had drifted through the Americans’ basement laboratories in ghost form, observing the experiments. He still wasn’t sure he remembered how to smile properly after that.

  While wandering as a spirit, he had spent a long time wondering whether he could reopen the passage into the afterlife – the same place he had barely escaped before. He suspected he had only managed to return because he had passed through a portal that anchored him to this very base.

  Now he stood on the wall, staring into open space. The air felt thicker somehow, the world trembling as if waiting for a decision. Inside him, a familiar surge began to rise – the same force he had once used to open the door beyond.

  In ghost form, he was fairly certain he could go back.

  But could he return?

  Max inhaled slowly, forcing his thoughts into order. Fear would not help. Only cold calculation would.

  He had already glimpsed the other side more than once. What if that world decided not to let him leave? This was not a door to open lightly.

  He knew one thing for certain: his ability allowed him to become intangible – to shed his physical form, pass through walls, and see what was hidden from ordinary sight. In that state, he could see the souls of the dead who had not yet crossed over. Sometimes he even sensed when someone else, somewhere far away, opened a doorway there.

  Which meant there were others like him.

  Did his power depend on his physical body? If he left it behind for too long, would it remain empty – defenseless and doomed?

  Logic and planning were his anchors. Panic was useless.

  The worst-case scenario was simple: he would fail to return.

  But there were worse possibilities.

  What if he dragged another soul back with him? He could barely manage one Yulia. She was already everywhere – like a cat that insisted on following him even into the bathroom.

  Still, he had to understand the limits of his power.

  One quiet evening, sitting in his room, Max decided to wander the fortress again.

  Leaving his body had become almost effortless. It felt like slipping into a lucid dream, watching his transparent spirit rise from his physical form. At first he had mistaken it for dreaming, but he could tell the difference now.

  He knew exactly where he wanted to go.

  The basement.

  He privately referred to the mana-extraction laboratory as “the penal colony.” He had visited it more than once in ghost form.

  This time, it required nothing more than intention.

  The world shifted in an instant. A thin veil seemed to fall over reality, rendering everything faintly translucent while revealing far more than before. Max could see flickering silhouettes through the walls.

  He paused.

  He knew what room lay beyond that wall.

  The girls’ quarters.

  Those silhouettes were living people.

  He rose from the bed – without noticing that he had already drifted through the wall – and approached them. Only Yulia, who had been waiting for him, noticed his sudden realization. Wandering was more entertaining in company.

  “Sorry!” Max blurted, flushing as much as a ghost possibly could.

  At the table, several girls were chatting animatedly, and one blonde was trying on dresses.

  He had chosen the absolute worst possible moment.

  The girls didn’t notice him at all – just as they would never notice any other ghost.

  “I hope I can get back into my body like usual…” Max muttered, remembering how last time he had felt nauseous for half an hour afterward.

  Then something else tugged at his awareness.

  A ripple passed through him, sharp and unmistakable. Somewhere nearby, someone had just died. It wasn’t a good or bad sensation. It was simply a fact – someone who had been alive a moment ago no longer was.

  Curiosity overrode caution.

  Yulia floated into the room just in time to see him slip through another wall. She rolled her eyes.

  The moment he focused on the sensation, he found its source. Max drifted in that direction, paused before a wall, then pushed forward when his hand passed through it without resistance. He accelerated, slipping through several more layers of concrete and steel until he emerged beyond the fortress.

  Gunfire cracked through the air.

  The smell of death was stronger here.

  Max tensed when laughter burst from above – soldiers on the wall firing their rifles. It sounded as if they were competing to see who could kill more orcs.

  In the clearing below stood dark figures, staring at the fortress in grim silence. Each time a bullet struck home, another shape joined them.

  Ghosts.

  Or souls.

  Max still wasn’t entirely sure of the difference.

  They were the spirits of the same creatures the soldier had shown him in those photos. Massive gray bodies lay scattered across the grass, and their translucent doubles lingered nearby.

  He had no desire to approach something that had been trying to kill people only moments ago. Yet if they had souls, perhaps they weren’t just beasts.

  Or did beasts have souls too?

  Max didn’t know. He only knew he wanted to keep his distance.

  He had just thought about rising back to the wall when the world suddenly tilted. His balance vanished, and he found himself falling.

  He still wasn’t used to moving in ghost form.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Just before hitting the ground, Max squeezed his eyes shut instinctively – but no impact came. When he opened them, he was lying on the earth.

  Wait.

  Shouldn’t he be floating like Yulia?

  Or sinking through the soil?

  The thought itself seemed to answer the question. With a flicker of intent, he lifted off the ground as easily as a leaf caught in a breeze.

  Max hovered, staring down at the orcs. For the moment, they hadn’t noticed him. It felt strange – weightless, free from gravity.

  The orcs were arguing among themselves. Angry. Frustrated. Yet they seemed aware they were dead; none tried to dodge the bullets still tearing through their living comrades.

  Two of the spirits even climbed the wall and flailed uselessly at the soldiers, their massive hands passing straight through flesh and steel alike.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Max decided to risk it.

  “Hey! You!” he called, drawing their attention.

  They were already dead. Maybe he could talk to them.

  The clearing fell silent.

  Every orc turned toward him.

  Two gray giants began walking his way, unhurried.

  As they drew closer, Max began to regret his decision. He drifted a little higher.

  He had underestimated their size.

  The first was all muscle, his scarred skin etched with black-and-red tattoos depicting weapons, blood, and snarling beasts. He wore only loose trousers and a leather strap across his chest. His features were flattened, his yellow tusks massive, and a round metal earring hung from one ear.

  The second was thickset and heavy, his broad belly straining against his belt, a single scar cutting across his wide chin.

  “Ro hatjan oga?!” the muscular one rumbled, lips curling.

  Max suddenly realized that the rest of the orc spirits were slowly closing in, forming a loose circle around him.

  Maybe it wasn’t too late to retreat.

  Unease prickled through him, but he forced himself to calm down and descended to the ground. So far, they hadn’t shown open aggression.

  Perhaps, in ghost form, they couldn’t hurt him.

  …Could they?

  If souls appeared here, they had to go somewhere afterward. Max wanted to know where orc souls ended up. If he could learn that, it would be valuable.

  Too bad he didn’t understand a word they were saying.

  “Elgin… kolnobul…” the second orc tried again, stumbling over unfamiliar sounds.

  Max blinked.

  The orc was attempting another language.

  Clever.

  For an orc, at least.

  “If only I could understand what you’re saying… Isn’t there some kind of magical ability for learning languages?” Max muttered.

  That turned out to be a mistake.

  Or maybe not entirely.

  What happened next burned itself into his memory.

  For a split second, it felt as though a dark veil swept beneath his feet. The light dimmed, and a strange, hollow wave rolled through him from the inside out.

  Before he could react, the nearest orc soul flared with white radiance.

  Then it shot forward in a blazing beam –

  – and slammed into Max.

  His mind exploded with images.

  When awareness returned, it felt as though he had lived an entire lifetime in the span of a breath. He had been somewhere vast and real for an eternity… and yet remembered nothing. Only the lingering sense that he had forgotten something vital – something that had been right there.

  “Uruk?!” the second orc shouted.

  The sound tore Max out of his stupor.

  The other spirits had frozen. They were staring at him in naked terror.

  Everything they had ever believed about the afterlife had been a lie.

  The Messenger of Death himself had come to erase them.

  The orcs dropped to their knees. Even kneeling, they towered over him.

  “Spare us! Do not destroy our souls! Mercy!”

  Max opened his mouth to respond –

  “Who are you?” a clear male voice asked from behind him.

  The words were foreign, yet he understood them perfectly. The voice did not belong to an orc.

  Max turned.

  A thin, white-haired young man stood there, his hair sticking out in every direction like a caricature of Einstein. He wore shorts and a green short-sleeved summer shirt – an odd choice, even in warm weather.

  Max had thought he had run out of surprises.

  “What? I’m Max. Who are you?” he asked, trying to steady himself. His head still tingled. He couldn’t tell whether the newcomer was a soul or something else entirely. He wasn’t translucent like the orcs – but he clearly wasn’t alive either.

  “I’m… Marvin. I’m looking for someone,” the boy replied, taking a cautious step forward. “Now explain to me, messenger of death from the dominion of Heron-va-Lai, what you just did. Did you destroy a soul? Are you dark? Because if you are, I’ll have to destroy you. And by the way – your outfit is terrible.”

  “My outfit is fine,” Max snapped, glancing down at himself. Clean. Intact. Completely normal. “And as for what I did… I have no idea.”

  He looked back to where the orc had stood.

  There was nothing there.

  The others remained, kneeling and trembling.

  Meanwhile, living soldiers were emerging from the fortress, sweeping the area. They passed straight through the ghostly figures without noticing.

  “How do you not know?!” Marvin shrieked, and Max winced – his skull was already pounding.

  “Stop yelling. I said I don’t know. The gray giant was standing there, and then something just… happened.”

  “You… absorbed him?” Marvin’s expression shifted. “Other messengers were supposed to collect those souls soon. And I’m here on something far more important. You’re definitely not one of them… Listen – did you gain much power?”

  “What power?” Max frowned.

  “I’ve seen souls being absorbed. I just didn’t know messengers could do it too. You are a messenger, right? Though I don’t feel any strength from you… Must be a rookie.”

  “What messengers?” Irritation crept into Max’s voice. No one ever started explaining from the beginning.

  “You were just born, weren’t you?” Marvin sighed. “I was an ordinary soul once. Then they appointed me as a messenger and gave me wings. Did they give you wings? Or did you find yours somewhere?” Seeing Max’s blank stare, he sighed again. “Fine. But please don’t absorb souls again. You completely erased that orc. Took his afterlife. Do you understand?”

  The words hit like ice water.

  Erased a soul?

  An immortal soul?

  “I didn’t mean to,” Max said, hating the phrase even as he spoke it. It went against everything he believed in – but sometimes there was no better way to say it.

  “How do I bring him back?” Max asked quietly.

  “Ha! Impossible! I saw what happened. That energy is part of you now. Though you must’ve gotten stronger, right?” Marvin went on excitedly. “You unraveled a soul by accident! I couldn’t do that even if I tried. Probably… I don’t even know how it’s done. Maybe it’s true – we’re capable of anything as long as we don’t know our limits.”

  The white-haired messenger scratched at an imaginary beard. “Doesn’t matter. Orcs rarely reincarnate anyway. They usually just breed new souls like rabbits.”

  Then Marvin froze.

  A beam of light burst from Max’s chest.

  It condensed into a familiar shape – the same bloodthirsty orc.

  For a heartbeat, the spirit’s face twisted, as if in rage. But no.

  The orc was crying.

  That shocked Marvin even more than the fact that the fledgling messenger had just restored a destroyed soul.

  “I didn’t think it was possible to surprise me like this,” he whispered, shaken to the core of his being.

  Max, meanwhile, felt terrible. It was as though every scrap of energy had drained out of him, as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He sank to the ground and watched as the surrounding orc spirits stared in disbelief at their restored comrade. A few stepped forward and clapped him heavily on the shoulders.

  “There. I brought him back. You said it couldn’t be done. So what are you doing here?” Max asked calmly, turning to Marvin, who had sat down beside him without taking his eyes off the orc.

  “Right, yes! I’m looking for something…” Marvin glanced around. Max did the same, but aside from the orc souls, no one was there.

  Strange.

  Where had Yulia gone? He could have sworn she had been nearby.

  Failing to find what he sought, Marvin shifted his attention back to the orcs.

  “Not bad. Battle-hardened. A few of them might even find their place.” He studied them thoughtfully. “Fine. Since we’re being generous, I, Marvin, shall enlighten you, rookie. I am a messenger. My duty is to guide souls into the afterlife. This fine orc you just swallowed and spat back out will be coming with me to my lord’s plane. I probably won’t find the one I’m actually looking for – but at least I’ll take someone. We’ve got plenty of space and not many problems at the moment.”

  The white-haired messenger sprang to his feet and began pacing in circles, muttering to himself. Max considered asking what he meant, but Marvin quickly collected himself and continued.

  “Yes, we messengers must stand together. We are the bridge between the living world and the beyond. So? Will you help me? Have you seen anyone suspicious? A strange soul that fled from another world? No? Figures. I’m the only one actually searching. Lately no one cares about their duties. You know, immortality can drive you completely insane. Yes, we’re immortal! Well… unless someone kills us, of course. These days dying to a Lord’s servant takes a second.”

  He flicked his hand.

  A red glow flared around him for an instant. An energy pattern lingered in the air, weaving itself into a doorway shaped like a blue mirror. Marvin’s reflection shimmered across its surface.

  “For ordinary soul collection we get crumbs for ring development,” he went on, “but it’s safe and steady. And if you show up at battles like this…” He gestured toward the field littered with fallen orcs. “You can rake in enough energy to fill a wagon.”

  Max felt the familiar vibration emanating from the mirror.

  He had been to the other side before.

  Another doorway into the realm of death.

  The orc spirits began drifting toward it in a chaotic mass. More souls arrived from the forest, as though summoned by some silent call.

  “Ah, I remember the days when I had to carry souls in boxes,” Marvin muttered.

  Seeing Max’s startled expression, he added, “Didn’t have the strength for portals back then.”

  As one orc passed close by, Max caught something in his eyes – sorrow. Even he understood that he would never live again.

  “Come on. I’ll show you how things work on our side. If anyone asks, tell them you’re the apprentice of the great Marvin. Eliza will be shocked. Got that?”

  “I’m not going,” Max said evenly.

  “What do you mean you’re not going? Do you want to be one of those immortals who refuse to work?” Marvin narrowed his eyes.

  “I just don’t think going too far from my body is a good idea. It starts going numb. Every muscle aches afterward,” Max replied.

  “…Your body?” Marvin blinked. “What do you mean, your body? Did you die around here somewhere? I’m sorry to hear that, but a messenger doesn’t have a body. When we accept the power of the beyond, we become incorporeal. You understand? In-cor-po-real. That’s the only way to travel between the living world and the dead. So stop messing with my head. Let’s go. I’ll bring you back afterward, fine? You can haunt your own grave…”

  Max cast one last glance at the fortress.

  Strangely, he didn’t feel panic about his body. It would be fine for a while.

  He hesitated only a moment longer.

  Then he stepped through the portal.

  He did not see Marvin transform into a raven and sweep in after him.