The Geometric Anomaly.

Before I could ask what she meant, the blinds rattled from a gust of wind, and I was back in Solaris, sitting on the edge of the bed, heart pounding like I’d never left. Autumna hadn’t told me much, but the conversation stuck. I knew I didn’t have enough answers — about Solaris, Orati, about what exactly I’d been dropped into.

The mansion felt too quiet to sit still, so I wandered, hoping to find something that would help. She’d said to keep moving, so that’s what I’d do.

The corridors stretched endlessly, each trimmed with gold and lined with portraits of people I’d never heard of — all staring like I didn’t belong. Eventually, I found a hallway blocked by a metal fence. No knob. No keyhole. Just cold, unyielding bars. If I wanted out, I’d have to climb.

Easy enough, right?

I grabbed a bar and swung a leg over, but as my weight shifted, the fence wobbled like a drunk trying to keep balance. “Okay,” I muttered, gripping tighter, “steady…”

A loud clank echoed as my foot slipped. I dangled, one arm straining, the other flailing. “Don’t look down,” I told myself.

“Who goes there?” The voice came like an actor’s cue. A guard appeared.

His eyes narrowed as he spotted me awkwardly draped over the fence, legs kicking. I lowered my foot and tried to smooth my posture. “Maintenance,” I said in a lazy accent.

“Maintenance,” he repeated slowly.

“Yeah! Testing gravity,” I said, one shoe above the marble. “Routine check. Heat like this warps frames. Costly if left.”

He stepped closer. “Haven’t seen you before.”

I forced a small laugh. “That’s the point. If you notice us, something’s broken.”

His footsteps rang deliberate. “Restricted area,” he said sharply.

I shifted. “Rules don’t fix a swollen hinge. Better I check it before it jams.”

Close enough now that my reflection shimmered on his visor. “Carrying tools?”

“Left ‘em down the hall,” I lied. “Didn’t want to scratch the paneling.”

I tossed my foot back and hopped down, impact reverberating. “Alright. You caught me.”

“I’m not maintenance,” I admitted. “I’m one of Vassier’s business partners. One of the few he trusts.”

I gestured to the walls. “He’s dining with guests. I’m just walking the halls. Beautiful place, wouldn’t you say?”

No answer. His visor stayed locked on me.

“Business partner,” he repeated.

“That’s right,” I said lightly. “Distribution contracts. Long term. Vassier mentioned me.”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t track… strays.”

Strays. I smiled, not reaching my eyes. “Discretion is part of my deal.”

“Discretion,” he echoed. “Wandering off-limits corridors without an escort?”

“I prefer ‘exploring.’ This place is too grand to walk the same halls.”

“Or maybe you’re looking for something,” he said evenly, visor glinting toward the sealed door.

“Forgive me,” I said, “but you’re talking to someone above your pay grade.”

“You act like I should know who you are,” he said.

I stepped close, voice stripped of charm. “Want to find out?”

“Usually, people of ‘your position’ manage time better.”

A humorless laugh escaped me. “Oh… mocking me now?”

I leaned in. “I could make you lose your job,” I said low, “your money, your children, your children’s children —” voice hardening, “your children’s children’s children.”

“What—”

“I CAN RUIN YOUR LIFE WITH A SNAP.” I barked. My hand shot up.

“Continue your duties elsewhere,” I said.

We locked eyes. He clicked his tongue and turned away, boots tapping until silence swallowed the sound.

Holy. That worked. Bravo to me.

“Okay… attempt two.”

Once sure he was gone, I gripped the cold bars, hauled myself up, legs swinging over like a clumsy gymnast, landing with a soft thud. Breathing hard, I stayed low, careful on the polished marble. The air grew cooler. Walls narrowed, portraits fading into towering shelves of—

“I— Impossible.” My voice trailed away as I stared in awe.

Portraits faded into ancient books, cracked spines holding centuries of dust.

I’d stumbled into a vast library. Rows stretched beyond sight, broken by tall stained glass windows casting kaleidoscopes of color onto the dusty floor. The scent of old paper and leather filled the air, quiet, sacred.

A heap of unshelved books lay dumped on the center table. This shouldn’t be possible; there are no trees. How is this possible?

The top book creaked open, a cloud of dust forcing a coughing fit. The sound bounced off the shelves like a shout.

The page was tangled script gibberish. I still couldn’t read this world's damn language.

I flipped faster. “Can’t believe people read without pictures,” I muttered. “Guess I’ll use context clues…”

Book after book, I searched until one page stopped me cold.

A circle. No — several inside one another, neat as a target. Five dots spaced perfectly. Under each, words — unreadable. A straight line connected the center dot to the far right.

My eyes were fixed on the line. It reminded me of metro maps, dots marking stops.

“Is this… a map of Orati? Cities?”

I flashed to the train ride to Carlotta. The spacing struck me — a perfect wheel, with a line from center to outer dot. But why? Nobody traveled beyond 200 miles of Solaris. Why such deliberate symmetry?

Maps had patterns — trade hubs, defenses, and resources. This one too. Monsters stayed outside, people inside.

“Nobody goes outside,” I whispered. “Then why did the worm enter?”

A sharp thud cracked the stillness. I jolted, grip tightening.

A book lay sprawled open, blank pages, faded spine. I picked it up, nothing inside. I tried shelving it, too high.

I sank to the floor, map on my lap. The striped spine next to me clicked. Carlotta to the east, matched eight stripes from Solaris. Opposite west city — eight. North? Eight. South? Eight.

The last pair is — northeast city. Eight stripes. Almost. Slightly off.

Southwest? Slightly more.

Impossible to ignore.

I leaned back. That sliver of difference meant something.

“If the measurements are correct…” I murmured.

“…then Solaris…”

I swallowed. “…isn’t the true center of Orati.”