I really didn't want those ghostly restraints again.

  So I decided to do the only reasonable thing — play along.

  Calmly. Obediently. In a way that would make him relax. In a way that would let his vigilance slip just a little, like a poorly fastened collar.

  I looked up at him and spoke.

  "Alright..." I said quietly. "I'll tell you what I saw."

  He didn't interrupt.

  "At that moment," I continued, "when you were holding Phil's wallet, I saw a flash in your hand. A short one. Extremely bright."

  I swallowed.

  "And right after that... everything around us changed."

  He tensed. Almost imperceptibly. But I noticed.

  "I saw a creature. Huge. It looked like a larva."

  I grimaced.

  "Very large. Covered in thin spikes... no, more like long needles. They were sticking out of it in all directions."

  My fingers clenched involuntarily.

  "Where those needles pierced its body... everything was bleeding. Not just blood — slowly, thickly, as if the body couldn't heal itself fast enough."

  I paused. He was still silent.

  "Nearby there was... a woman. At least, she looked like a woman."

  I closed my eyes for a second.

  "Her upper body was normal. Face. Shoulders. But below that... I couldn't see. The lower half was under the table. But she was... too large. Disproportionate."

  I opened my eyes.

  "And she was missing an arm. Up to the elbow. Everything there was... caked over. Blood. Old and fresh mixed together."

  "There were others moving around," I said more quickly, because the memory was catching up with me.

  "They weren't as clear. I hadn't brought my glasses that day... I forgot them. Without them I see terribly badly... and everything was kind of blurred anyway."

  "Some of them had beaks. Others had tails.

  They were carrying rags. Food. Something like tools.

  They were... treating the wounds of that spiked creature."

  I exhaled sharply.

  "A horrifying place."

  I shook my head.

  "There were others too. Smaller ones. I didn't see everyone clearly. Everything felt like it was happening underwater."

  I looked straight at him.

  "I was terrified."

  My voice trembled, but I held it steady.

  "What is that place?"

  "What are those creatures?"

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  He was silent for a long time.

  Not theatrically. Not for effect. He simply stared at one point, as if checking inside himself which words could be released and which were still too early.

  Then he said quietly,

  "So... the paper."

  He nodded to himself.

  "It seems that's what showed it to you."

  He frowned.

  "But why?"

  He looked at me again — differently now. Not as a random witness, but as a variable that hadn't been accounted for.

  "You saw the last Lactimol on this planet," he finally said.

  The words landed heavily. Not dramatically. Like a sentence that had been passed long ago.

  "He survived alone. The only one.

  The Gruns killed the others."

  He clenched his fingers, then released them.

  "They are extremely cruel."

  "The Lactimol is wounded. Sick. Very weak. He's barely holding on."

  He looked straight at me.

  "If he dies — all life on this planet will die.

  No exaggeration. No metaphor."

  "That was the Gruns' goal."

  He sighed deeply, with exhaustion.

  "They came from stone, dead celestial bodies.

  They hate all living things.

  Envy, malice, cruelty — that's what the Gruns are.

  Life itself is an insult to them."

  "Beside him, you saw his mother," he continued more quietly.

  "She should have stopped feeding him long ago."

  "But he can't feed on his own," Alexander said.

  "He's too weak.

  So she feeds him... with herself."

  He didn't soften it.

  "Through her own body.

  Through pain."

  The room seemed to contract.

  "The pteroseruses protect them," he went on.

  "They do everything they can.

  They heal. Cleanse. Care for them.

  Those are who you saw in the Nest."

  He nodded, as if placing pieces on a board.

  "And the others too.

  All who are still left."

  He looked upward, as if through the ceiling.

  "The Nest exists under a special dome.

  It's protection. Not just a field.

  The elder pteroseruses create it daily, with their magic."

  He looked back at me, serious now.

  "No outsider can enter there.

  No one."

  A brief pause.

  "The paper brought you there.

  I let you in."

  He wasn't justifying himself. Just stating a fact.

  "We created the same kind of dome here," he said.

  "Over Phil's house.

  And over several other houses."

  "The Gruns learned that Phil had been pollinated by the Fliiruses," he continued. "Almost immediately."

  He stared at me intently.

  "And from that moment on, he became a target."

  A chill ran down my spine.

  "There aren't many Gruns left on the planet," Alexander went on.

  "A miserable handful, honestly. Most of their forces left long ago, deep into space. But those are the most dangerous ones."

  He gave a joyless smile.

  "Like cancer. Small, but vicious. They can't create anything of their own — only corrupt, destroy, infect."

  He spread his hands.

  "The ones who stayed are doing everything they can to wipe us out."

  "You noticed, didn't you," he said more gently, "what's been happening on the street. Fires. Ignitions. The 'meteorite' that wasn't actually a meteorite..."

  He wasn't asking. He was stating it.

  "That was them.

  Attempts to break through the dome. To probe for weak points. To test where the protection is thinnest."

  I remembered the blackened fence. The burned bush. The sirens at night.

  "The Seruses placed additional guards," he said.

  He looked at me closely.

  "Among them — Cuna."

  I flinched.

  "Cuna?" I asked.

  He nodded.

  "Yes.

  You've seen her."

  I jerked my head up.

  "And Frederica?" I asked. "She's the one who sent me the messages..."

  He shook his head.

  "No," he said quietly. "There was no Frederica. Or rather... there was."

  He sighed.

  "She really exists.

  But it wasn't her who contacted you."

  My throat tightened.

  He paused, giving me time to absorb that.

  "The Seruses needed a way to place Cuna near you," he said.

  "In a way that wouldn't raise suspicion.

  You don't interact with many people. You're observant. Careful.

  And... suitable."

  He looked at me with clear regret.

  "The Seruses searched for a long time for a way to do it.

  And chose the only option that wouldn't shatter your reality too abruptly."

  "I'm sorry, Molly."

  He said it simply. No excuses. No plea for forgiveness.

  "But if they hadn't done this," he raised his eyes to me,

  "you would already be in far greater danger. And you wouldn't even know why."

  He fell silent.

  It hit me all at once.

  Shock mixed with irritation, anger, exhaustion — everything at once. I opened my mouth, closed it, opened it again — and couldn't force out a single word. As if my mind had gone on vacation and left my body to deal with it alone.

  Alexander noticed and... simply continued. Calmly. Evenly. As if he were giving a weather forecast.

  "As I said before," he went on, "I really was supposed to leave. The route was approved. Work. Restoration. Ecosystems."

  He sighed.

  "But everything changed when the glove appeared."

  I looked up at him.

  "It was a strong and very close threat," he continued. "Too close."

  He paused, then said more quietly,

  "Cuna reacted instantly. She burst.

  And released all the Shi-Moo."

  I blinked.

  "Even those that hadn't fully matured yet."

  He looked at me intently.

  "You picked up that glove, Molly.

  Somehow the Gruns managed to leave it there.

  And you... took it in your hands."

  An unpleasant tightness formed in my chest.

  "That partially broke the dome," he said. "Not completely. But enough."

  He spread his hands.

  "That's why I'm here.

  A group of northern Seruses was sent to Eastern Europe in my place. They'll manage."

  He had barely finished speaking when suddenly —

  ACHOO!

  Loud. Sharp.

  Alexander jumped as if a grenade had gone off in the room.

  The next second, he vanished.

  Literally.

  I only heard a crash from the kitchen and his voice:

  "Oh, you little—

  Ida FORBID you from coming in here!!!

  Again!!!"

  Something fell. Something rustled.

  "You're eating peas!" he barked. "Again!

  Oh, you're going to get it from Gunya today!"

  I sat there with my mouth open when he came back.

  In his hands he was holding... that.

  The creature was black and fluffy, completely smeared with cream. It was licking itself happily, displaying a long red-orange tongue that seemed to live a life of its own. Its eyes were half-closed — an expression of absolute bliss and total absence of guilt.

  It was wearing a knitted hat.

  Huge.

  Slipped down almost to the middle of its body.

  From beneath the fur, small paws stuck out — suspiciously raccoon-like.

  It wasn't scary... it was even cute.

  Not afraid at all. On the contrary — it looked like this was the best day of its life.

  Alexander held it by the scruff like a misbehaving cat.

  "This is a Shi-Moo," he said dryly.

  Then he looked at me and added with a heavy sigh,

  "And... there are no pastries left."

  The Shi-Moo smacked its lips contentedly and licked itself again.