Vol. 1 Chapter 3: Knowns and Unknowns

They passed through three corridors, two stairwells, and enough doors for Rob to begin counting them aloud.

“Twenty-four.”

No one answered.

“Twenty-five.”

The guards continued walking.

“Twenty-six.”

Nicole glanced back at him. “Why?”

“So we know how far they took us.”

One of the guards looked over his shoulder.

Rob smiled pleasantly.

“Twenty-eight.”

The building might have been a palace, fortress, temple, or all three built on top of one another by people with an unreasonable stone budget.

The ceilings were too high. The walls were too thick. Banners hung between the pillars less like decoration and more like reminders of who owned the place. Every corridor smelled of lamp oil, old wood, incense, and the faint dampness of moss growing somewhere behind the stone.

Kevin hated it immediately.

The escort kept the five of them in the middle of their escort formation.

Alec stayed beside Nicole, who carried the first aid kit against her chest. Liza walked behind them with her backpack over one shoulder, studying every lantern, carving, window, and doorway they passed.

Rob had recovered his missing sock.

As far as Kevin could tell, that was the only thing their side had successfully recovered.

Kevin carried the laptop bag over one shoulder. His phone remained in his pocket, muted after it had vibrated during the walk.

Aurelia walked several meters ahead with Varris.

The woman in white and gold followed with the old folio still held against her chest.

The younger woman walked beside her.

Serina.

Aurelia had called her that when she blocked Kevin’s view of the formation.

Serina kept her hands folded in front of herself and her attention fixed forward. She had not looked directly at Kevin since then.

He had decided not to take that personally.

She had looked less afraid of him than desperately concerned that he might poke every suspicious magical object he encountered.

Which, honestly, was reasonable.

Aurelia and the priestess spoke quietly several times during the walk.

Kevin could not hear the words but he could see the priestess answered most of Aurelia’s questions by shaking her head.

The group stopped before a pair of heavy wooden doors reinforced with black metal bands.

Two guards were already stationed outside.

One opened the doors.

The chamber beyond was large enough to house a small delegation. Six narrow beds lined the far wall beneath neatly folded blankets. A long table stood near the center, surrounded by mismatched chairs. A fireplace had already been lit, though the room still carried the stale chill of somewhere rarely used.

Two tall windows overlooked the city.

Both had metal latticework fitted elegantly into the stone.

Kevin looked around.

“Nice prison.”

Aurelia entered first.

“It is a secured guest chamber.” She stated, as a matter of factly. “You will remain in this wing until morning.”

Alec looked toward the guards outside.

“Are we prisoners?”

“No.”

The pause before the answer was not reassuring.

“You are under my protection,” Aurelia continued. “Until I know what occurred in the sanctum, you will remain together and under guard.”

Kevin looked toward the barred windows.

“Protected from what?”

Aurelia met his eyes.

“We do not yet know.”

That was almost honest enough to be useful.

“Your personal belongings will be returned after inspection,” she continued. “Larger equipment will remain secured nearby until it can be moved safely.”

Kevin shifted the laptop bag on his shoulder.

Between the five of them, they had brought several power banks, cables, smaller camping chargers, and enough batteries to support an extended weekend away from civilization.

Kevin had also brought a solar panel because apparently working from home also meant bringing work into a forest while officially on leave.

Everyone had mocked him.

Now they were probably the most valuable objects they owned.

“Nothing gets taken apart,” Kevin said.

Varris looked toward him. His expression suggested he did not enjoy being instructed by an unarmed foreigner in a hoodie.

“The weapons and blades remain in my custody,” he said.

That included both pistols, their magazines and ammunition, Alec’s multitool, Liza’s folding knife, and the camping hatchet.

Nicole still had the small medical scissors because she had explained their purpose until Varris allowed them to remain sealed inside the first aid kit.

Kevin suspected the captain had surrendered only to make the explanation stop.

Aurelia looked toward Nicole.

“Your medical supplies remain with you. If you require a healer, tell the guards.”

Nicole nodded.

“Thank you.”

Two attendants arrived behind them with a pitcher of water, cups, bread, fruit, and a covered tray of food.

Aurelia turned toward the door.

“Rest while you can.”

“Will you answer our questions afterward?” Alec asked.

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

Aurelia looked back at him.

“The ones I can.”

Kevin appreciated that answer more than he wanted to.

Aurelia left with Varris, the priestess, and Serina.

The guards remained outside.

Then the doors closed.

For three seconds, nobody moved.

Kevin crossed the room and tested the handle.

The door opened several inches.

Two guards looked at him.

Kevin looked at them.

“Bathroom?”

One pointed down the corridor.

Kevin closed the door again and returned to the center of the room.

Rob inhaled deeply.

“Okay… I hate to be the person who says the obvious, but-”

“You love being that person,” Liza said.

“We just got isekaid.”

“Rob.”

“There are two moons outside.”

“Robert.”

“And we have been placed inside a two-star castle with moss-based interior design, which means I somehow consumed the greatest mushrooms ever cultivated, we are collectively dreaming, this is a simulation, or we are all de-”

Nicole slapped him.

The sound cracked through the room.

Rob slowly turned his head back toward her, one hand pressed against his cheek.

“There,” Nicole said. “Did that feel real enough?”

Rob touched his face. He then looked as though the slap had generated several additional observations.

Nicole raised one finger.

“Don’t.”

He closed his mouth.

The room went quiet.

Nicole looked at all four of them.

Her hands were shaking.

She curled them into fists.

“Sit down.”

Alec moved first.

He sat on the edge of the nearest bed.

Rob lowered himself into a chair with the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. Liza sat on the floor beside the table.

Kevin remained near the fireplace.

Nicole pointed at him.

“You too.”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t care.”

Kevin sat.

She began with Alec.

Nicole took his wrist and counted his pulse, then lifted one of the oil lamps and angled it toward his face.

“Headache?”

“No.”

“Nausea?”

“No.”

“Dizziness?”

“No.”

“Anything numb? Tingling? Chest pain?”

“No.”

“Difficulty breathing?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Nic.”

“I know. Answer me.”

“I’m sure.”

She checked his pupils anyway.

Then Liza, who complained about the brightness of the lamp.

Then Rob, who claimed his cheek hurt despite the obvious cause already being identified.

Kevin went last.

Nicole sat across from him and held out one hand.

“Arm.”

Kevin pushed up his sleeve.

The black mark remained beneath the skin of his left forearm.

It still refused to settle into a shape he understood. A crescent from one angle. An eye from another. Lines crossed where they should have joined, as though the image had been printed twice and shifted slightly out of alignment.

Nicole studied it.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Cold?”

“A little.”

“Numb?”

“No.”

“Move your fingers.”

Kevin opened and closed his hand.

“Grip.”

She offered two fingers.

Kevin squeezed.

Nicole pulled them away.

“Fine.”

“You told me to.”

“I didn’t tell you to crush them.”

“You said grip.”

Nicole stared at him until he stopped talking.

She touched the skin beside the mark.

Nothing happened.

Her shoulders loosened slightly.

“Okay. Looks like we all have magic tattoos. Love that for us…”

“That sounded convincing,” Liza said.

Nicole looked down at all five marks.

Alec’s gold lines remained clear beneath his skin.

Nicole’s green pattern branched like roots around her forearm.

Liza’s blue-white geometry resembled a circuit built around unfamiliar shapes.

Rob’s red spear and shield remained bright enough to recognize from across the room.

Kevin’s was simply black.

Rob leaned forward.

“So...”

“No,” Kevin said.

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You were about to.”

Rob pointed toward the marks.

“Ours lit up and received names.”

Kevin looked at him.

“Light. Life. Magic. War,” Rob continued. “Then the thread touched yours and disappeared.”

Rob went silent for a few seconds.

Then asked.

“Do we think yours ate it?”

“No,” Alec said.

“It vanished,” Liza replied.

“Could have disconnected,” Kevin said.

Nicole frowned. “Because you kept trying to push it away?”

“Maybe.”

“Can you do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“You told it to stop.”

“It was following me.”

Liza looked at Kevin’s arm.

“And it stopped.”

“After touching the mark.”

Alec leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“The priestess refused to say anything.”

Kevin looked at him.

“She did,” Alec continued. “The younger woman looked confused. Aurelia looked at both of them before she said anything.”

“Serina,” Kevin said.

Rob’s head turned slowly toward him.

Kevin noticed.

“What?”

“You know her name.”

“Aurelia said it.”

“We haven’t even been here an hour and you’re already learning the local girls’ names.”

Kevin stared at him.

“She said it in front of everyone.”

“I was occupied with the spears.”

“Aurelia also said Varris’s name.”

Rob looked toward the closed door.

“You know his too?”

Nicole raised one hand towards Rob.

“Do you want me to finish matching your face?”

Rob returned his attention to the marks.

Liza glanced at the door.

“So what is Serina?”

Kevin lowered his sleeve.

“A person.”

“You know what I mean. Attendant? Mage? Noble?”

“She stayed close to Aurelia,” Alec said.

“So did Varris,” Nicole replied. “That doesn’t make him an attendant.”

“The clothes looked like household staff,” Kevin said.

“She brought that formation thing out,” Liza countered. “And she activated it. Probably a mage.”

“Could be a magical attendant.”

Rob raised one hand.

“Younger sister.”

Everyone looked at him.

“What?”

Liza frowned as she reconstructed Serina and Aurelia from memory.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Hair color.”

Rob stared at her.

“That is your evidence?”

“Aurelia is blonde. Serina has brown hair.”

“Families can have different hair.”

“Fantasy royal families coordinate.”

“What about adoption,” Rob offered.

Nicole pointed toward him.

“Stop inventing the princess’s family tree.”

Alec looked at Kevin.

“What do you think?”

“Inconclusive,” Kevin said.

Liza shook her head.

“Mage.”

“Based on?”

“She looked at the magical formation like she understood what it was doing.”

Rob nodded.

“Mage-attendant, possible adopted princess.”

“No,” four people said.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

The guards shifted outside the door.

Metal brushed against stone.

Rob looked at the food.

“Are we eating?”

“No,” Kevin said.

“Maybe,” Nicole said at the same time.

Nicole then stood and crossed towards the covered tray. She lifted the lid without touching the food.

Roasted meat.

Bread.

Fruit.

Something resembling potatoes.

Nothing visibly moving.

“We have no way to test whether any of this is safe,” she said.

“It smells normal,” Rob offered.

“So is bleach if you’re stupid enough.”

Kevin went back to the door and listened.

At least two guards stood directly outside. More might have been farther down the corridor.

The door was thick and reinforced, but unlocked. The windows were barred and far above the courtyard. The fireplace opening was large enough for smoke but can’t fit Kevin.

Liza grabbed the patterned metal bars covering the nearest window.

She pulled.

Then pushed.

Then braced one foot against the wall and tried again.

Nothing moved.

She then leaned forward and looked down.

“We’re pretty high up.”

“How high?” Alec asked.

“Four floors. Maybe five.”

Rob moved beside her and looked outside.

“Well.” He studied the drop. “There goes the Rapunzel plan.”

“We don’t have enough hair anyway,” Liza said.

Kevin moved around the room, inspecting everything from the beds to the drawers.

Then Alec clapped his hands twice while Liza and Rob were discussing whether they could use the blankets to use as a rope.

Everyone looked at him.

Kevin knew that expression.

It was the one Alec wore immediately before taking control of a meeting nobody had asked him to run.

“No.”

Alec ignored him.

“We need to talk.”

Alec searched the room until he found a pale wooden serving tray leaning against the wall.

He carried it to the table, took an unburned piece of charcoal from beside the fireplace, and wrote across the top.

CURRENT OBJECTIVES

Liza stared at him.

“You made a whiteboard.”

“I made a board.”

“In another universe.”

“Yes.”

“We’ve been here for thirty minutes.”

“And already our process is improving.”

Kevin rubbed his right hand over his face.

“I hate this world already.”

“We are not solving everything tonight,” Alec said.

“Yeah, no shit,” Rob replied.

“We are not determining the complete political structure, understanding the tattoos, reverse-engineering magic or whatever brought us here, learning their calendar, establishing the legal duties of whatever Rob just volunteered us into, and finding a way home before morning.”

Nicole’s expression tightened.

Alec kept going anyway.

“Our objective until morning is smaller.”

He wrote as he spoke.

STAY ALIVE
STAY TOGETHER
PRESERVE OPTIONS

Kevin stepped closer.

“Recover equipment.”

Alec looked at him.

“That may not be within our control.”

Alec added it anyway.

RECOVER / RETAIN EQUIPMENT

Rob studied the board.

“That sounded pretty simple when written down.”

“It’s supposed to be clear.”

Liza crossed her arms.

“We just got isekaid and Alec brought stand-up meetings.”

“Someone has to.”

“No one has to.”

“We have goals, constraints, unidentified stakeholders, and multiple active risks.”

“Do not say stakeholders.”

Kevin looked toward the ceiling, praying for something else to take him away from here.

Alec drew a line beneath the objectives.

“Now. We reconstruct what happened. Direct observations first. No theories.”

He wrote:

CONFIRMED

“We were camping,” Alec said.

Kevin nodded.

Alec pointed the charcoal at him.

“You were working.”

“Not relevant.”

Alec wrote:

Camping. Kevin deploying on weekend.

Kevin stared at him.

“You’re enjoying this.”

“A little.”

Kevin defended himself.

“It was a minor config change.”

“Was it tested?” Liza asked.

“Yes.”

“Documented?”

“Of course.”

“Peer-reviewed?”

“Yes.”

“By whom?”

Kevin paused.

“Me.”

The room went quiet.

Rob nodded solemnly.

“So you are the reason companies hire auditors.”

“I am the auditor,” Kevin said.

“...I feel sorry for your company,” Liza replied.

Alec tapped the charcoal against the tray.

“Before this becomes Kevin’s performance review: the forest went quiet.”

“The insects stopped,” Nicole said.

“The wind too,” Liza added.

“Our screens turned white,” Kevin said.

“All of them?” Alec asked.

“Everything I saw with a display,” Liza replied. “Phones, laptop, tablet.”

Alec wrote each item.

“The circle appeared around the campsite,” Nicole said.

“Summoning circle,” Liza corrected.

“Unknown transport mechanism,” Kevin said.

Liza looked at him.

“You removed the word summoning.”

Alec wrote:

Unknown golden boundary appeared around campsite.

“Symbols moved around the edge,” Nicole said.

“The beer can bounced off of it,” Kevin added.

Alec wrote that too.

Rob raised one hand.

Nicole cut him off before it became another professional inquiry.

“Then marks appeared after the boundary.”

Alec looked around after writing everyone’s description of the event.

“Everyone agrees?”

“Yes,” Kevin said. “Boundary first. Marks second.”

“The fire froze immediately before transport,” Alec added.

“Everything froze,” Nicole said. “The air too.”

“The campsite was transported partially,” Kevin said. “Tents, chairs, cooler, fire, bags, equipment.”

“Not the ground,” Liza said.

“Some things attached to it were cut at the boundary.”

Alec added:

Marks appeared.
Enclosed objects and people transported.
Ground mostly stayed behind.

“Then we arrived inside the sanctum,” Alec said.

“With armed people already there,” Kevin added.

“Aurelia, Varris, Serina, and the woman in white,” Nicole said.

“The priestess,” Rob supplied.

He continued.

“White and gold robes. Old religious-looking book. Recognized divine marks. Present beside a ceremonial platform.”

Alec wrote:

Arrived without warning inside occupied sanctum.
Aurelia and Varris identified.
White-robed woman and Serina not formally identified.
Locals appeared surprised.

She handed it back to Alec.

Kevin tapped the board.

“High confidence on surprised.”

Alec nodded.

“The princess reacted quickly, but she didn’t expect us.”

Alec wrote:

High-confidence assessment: arrival unexpected on local side.

Kevin pointed at the item.

“That needs to belong in Assessments, not confirmed.”

Alec stopped.

Liza glared at Kevin.

“We’ve been in another universe for thirty minutes and you brought information governance.”

“That’s how we stop people writing assumptions as facts.”

Alec drew a second heading.

ASSESSMENTS

Then he moved the line beneath it.

Liza looked at the two categories.

“I hate that he’s right.”

“I also hate that he’s right,” Alec said.

Alec then returned to the first heading.

“We understood their language.”

“The sounds weren’t English,” Nicole said.

“But the meaning was,” Rob added. “My ears received fantasy language. My brain installed subtitles.”

“That is not how subtitles work,” Liza said.

“You understood the analogy.”

Alec wrote:

Unknown translation effect. Spoken language not English.

“The magical threads happened after we arrived,” Nicole said.

Kevin nodded.

“I don’t think that’s part of the transportation event.”

“A magic spell appeared around the raised platform,” Liza said.

“A formation,” Kevin said.

“You don’t know that.”

“The locals called it a formation.”

“Fine.”

Alec wrote:

Separate formation activated after arrival.
Produced five visible threads toward marks.

“Four connected,” Nicole said.

“The marks illuminated,” Alec added.

“People named them,” Rob said.

Alec wrote:

Four connections held briefly.
Domains named Light, Life, Magic, War.

Kevin looked toward his covered forearm.

“One disappeared.”

Alec added:

Kevin’s connection vanished. Mark did not illuminate.

“The priestess didn’t call it anything,” Rob said.

“Serina looked confused,” Alec added.

Liza glanced at Kevin.

“You’re sure that was her name?”

“Yes.”

Rob eyed him again.

Kevin ignored him.

“Aurelia watched both of them and controlled the room before anyone else could,” Kevin said.

Alec paused.

Then wrote under ASSESSMENTS:

Priestess may recognize Kevin’s mark or the thread reaction.
Serina did not appear to understand what happened.
Aurelia controlled public interpretation before panic escalated.

Liza pointed at the second line.

“We don’t know what Serina is.”

“Correct,” Kevin said.

Alec added:

Serina may be an attendant, mage, or both.

Rob leaned over the board.

“Possible younger sister.”

Alec ignored him and continued.

“We need the exact sequence involving the Crown Covenant.”

“Aurelia said she invoked it,” Nicole said.

“She said when it answered, we appeared,” Kevin added.

“She did not say it transported us,” Alec said.

“Then she called us God’s answer for guidance.,” Liza said.

“After the room started panicking,” Kevin replied.

“Then Aurelia gave everyone something safer to believe,” Alec concluded.

Kevin looked at the board.

“She didn’t explain what happened. She told the room what to call it.”

Alec wrote the sentence almost exactly.

Aurelia established a public explanation that prevented immediate escalation.
Whether Covenant relates to transport is unknown.

Rob raised one finger.

“Confirmed: we are publicly classified as witnesses.”

Alec added:

Aurelia publicly designated the group as Crown Covenant witnesses.

Kevin pointed toward Rob.

“Robert accepted.”

“I reserved judgment.”

“You stood up in a blanket and accepted the responsibility.”

“I requested time for deliberation.”

“You accepted their system for presenting those facts.”

Nicole pointed toward him.

“Do not make this worse.”

Alec wrote:

Robert accepted witness designation.

Rob nodded.

“Accurate.”

Kevin tapped the tray.

“Add that he volunteered to provide guidance.”

“Guidance was included in the princess’s explanation.”

“You repeated it as our function.”

“I clarified deliverables.”

“You expanded scope.”

Alec sighed and wrote:

Robert additionally offered guidance.

Kevin nodded.

“There. The disaster is documented.”

Alec added:

Alexander negotiated the right to deliberation and reasonable cooperation.

Kevin stared at him.

“You documented your own contribution very generously.”

“I’m holding the charcoal.”

“That does not make your version neutral.”

“You refused to take minutes.”

Liza looked at the board.

“You’re both arguing over meeting minutes in an isekai event.”

“That belongs under confirmed,” Rob said.

Alec created a third heading.

UNKNOWN

“We do not know exactly where we are beyond Arvenia and the Veyr Empire,” he said.

“We don’t know the year,” Rob added.

“Or whether their calendar maps to ours,” Liza said.

“We don’t know whether this is another planet, universe, magical construct, simulation, or shared hallucination,” Kevin said.

Rob looked around the room.

“If this is a shared hallucination, my subconscious has a very high production budget.”

Liza went to the window again.

She looked down at the courtyard.

Then at the bars.

Then she jumped.

Everyone stared at her.

She jumped again.

Nicole frowned.

“What are you doing?”

“Testing physics.”

“And?”

“It feels normal.”

Kevin nodded thoughtfully.

“Testing fall damage or noclipping?”

Liza glared at him.

Rob looked at the ceiling above her head.

“Try jumping higher.”

“Fuck you.”

Alec wrote:

Nature of world unknown.
Known physics appears approximately normal.

Liza looked at him.

“You documented that?”

“You performed a test.”

“It was barely a test.”

“Do you want it removed?”

She hesitated.

“No.”

“Then sit down.”

Alec looked at the board again.

“We don’t know why we were transported.”

“Or whether someone intentionally selected us,” Kevin added.

“The marks might have caused it,” Nicole said.

“Or the transport caused the marks,” Liza replied.

“Or both were caused by something else,” Alec said.

Rob raised one hand.

Nobody looked at him.

He lowered it.

Alec wrote:

Relationship between boundary, marks, transport, recognition formation, and Covenant unknown.

“The thread spell thing,” Nicole said. “What was it doing?”

“Identification likely,” Kevin said. “Could also be recognition, communication, tracking, contract-”

“Control,” Alec added.

“Ownership,” Rob said.

The humor left the room.

Kevin looked toward the words already written.

“Possible.”

Alec wrote:

Purpose of recognition threads uncertain.
Identification likely. Binding or control cannot be ruled out.

Nicole stared at the final sentence.

“Don’t write it like that.”

Alec stopped.

“It belongs there,” Kevin said quietly.

Nicole turned toward him.

“I know that.”

Kevin said nothing else.

For once, Rob did not fill the silence.

Liza pointed toward the witness designation.

“We don’t know what being a witness means.”

“Or what we’re supposed to judge,” Alec said.

“Or what guidance Rob volunteered,” Kevin added.

Rob folded his arms.

“I’m still confident that my decision was correct.”

Alec continued writing.

Meaning and duties of witness status unknown.
Subject of judgment unknown.
Scope of offered guidance unknown.

“Compensation structure unknown,” Rob said.

“No,” four people answered.

Alec hesitated before writing the next question.

Nicole had already looked away.

Kevin knew what it would be.

The charcoal scraped against the wood.

CAN WE RETURN?

The sound was too loud.

Nobody joked.

“We don’t know whether anyone at home saw what happened,” Nicole said.

Alec kept his back toward her.

“No.”

“Whether they think we’re missing.”

“No.”

“Whether time is moving there the same way.”

“No.”

Alec’s grip tightened around the charcoal.

He did not write every question.

The first one was enough.

After several seconds, he drew another heading.

IMMEDIATE THREATS / RISKS

“Immediate means tonight or tomorrow,” Alec said. “Not every terrible thing that may exist in this world.”

“Execution,” Rob said.

Nicole stared at him.

“What? It qualifies.”

“Possible execution,” Kevin corrected. “Confinement is partially confirmed.”

“We are allowed to leave the room,” Liza said.

“With an escort,” Kevin replied.

Alec wrote:

Guarded confinement.
Possible forced removal or execution.

“Separation,” Nicole said immediately.

“Confiscation,” Liza added.

“Interrogation,” Kevin said.

“Religious hostility,” Rob said, looking toward Kevin’s covered arm.

“Political use,” Alec added. “They could present us publicly, hide us, recruit us, claim authority over us, or use us against another faction.”

“Which Aurelia may already be doing with the witness declaration,” Kevin said.

Alec wrote:

Political or religious exploitation of public status.

“Food and water,” Nicole said. “Even without deliberate poisoning, we don’t know whether our bodies tolerate the same things.”

“Disease exposure,” Liza said.

“Anything we explain becomes something they can use.” Kevin added.

“They might break something while inspecting it.” Liza said.

“They may treat refusal to judge or advise as hostility.” Alec continued.

“Surveillance,” Kevin added.

Rob looked around the room.

“Very likely.”

Alec wrote everything.

Then Nicole said, “Panic.”

Everyone looked at her.

Her hand was shaking.

She closed it into a fist.

“We’re identifying risks,” she said. “Panic is a risk.”

No one interrupted.

“Nobody here is fine. Everyone is pretending to be fine because jokes and process diagrams feel better than screaming, but we are not fine.”

Rob opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

Alec placed the charcoal down.

He stepped toward her.

Nicole shook her head.

“Don’t.”

He stopped immediately.

Nicole took one breath.

Then another.

Then she crossed the distance herself and pressed her forehead against his chest.

Alec held her.

Nobody spoke.

Liza looked outside the window.

Kevin stared at the floor.

Rob picked up a piece of bread and inspected it with sudden interest.

The fireplace cracked.

Nicole’s shoulders shook.

After a few minutes, she stepped back and wiped beneath one eye with the heel of her hand.

She pointed toward Alec.

“Continue.”

Alec nodded as if a brief emotional collapse had always been included in the agenda.

Kevin respected that more than he wanted to.

Alec returned to the board.

“We cannot reduce every risk tonight. We prioritize what we can affect.”

He marked five items.

SEPARATION
CONFISCATION
INFORMATION LEAKAGE
SURVEILLANCE
UNDEFINED COMMITMENTS

Kevin nodded.

“Agreed.”

Alec created another heading.

ASSETS / CONSTRAINTS

Rob tilted his head.

“Do we have assets?”

Kevin placed the laptop bag on one of the beds.

“We better.”

They began with the phones.

All five still had theirs.

Liza’s battery had fallen to six percent.

Rob checked again.

“Maybe there’s still internet.”

Everyone glanced at him as if he just said something bizarre.

“What?” Rob continued on. “Maybe one of the moons is a router.”

“Ask the guards for the password.” Liza dryly said.

Kevin checked the time.

3:27 a.m.

Outside, the sky looked closer to late evening than early morning. One moon hung over the rooftops. The second remained partly hidden behind a tower.

“Keep the clocks unchanged,” Kevin said. “At least we can measure time from our side.”

Liza checked the compass application.

The needle settled normally.

“Compass works.”

“Does that tell us anything?” Alec asked.

She shrugged.

“Magnetic field, probably.”

“Does that mean the world is round?” Rob asked.

“No,” Kevin and Liza said together.

Nicole tested her flashlight.

It worked.

Kevin’s laptop had seventy-three percent battery.

The charger was inside the bag, but without the power station or an outlet it was mostly decorative.

“The electricity is the bottleneck,” Liza said.

Kevin nodded.

“If they return the solar panel and station, we have renewable power.”

“And until then?” Alec asked.

“We conserve.”

Kevin counted on his fingers.

“Low brightness. Airplane mode. No video unless necessary. No games. No music. No unnecessary photos.”

“No doomscrolling,” Alec added.

Rob looked offended.

“I feel attacked.”

“You have nothing to scroll.”

Nicole inventoried the medical supplies.

Bandages.

Gauze.

Antiseptic wipes.

Painkillers.

Antihistamines.

Loperamide.

Thermometer.

Tape.

Gloves.

Alcohol pads.

Medical scissors.

“Enough for minor wounds,” she said. “Maybe infection prevention. Not enough for anything serious.”

Alec checked his pockets.

Phone.

Wallet.

Car keys.

Notebooks.

Pen.

Everything containing a blade had been taken.

Liza had her flashlight, one cable, three hair ties, and several packets of candy she had apparently hidden from the group.

Rob emptied his pockets onto the table.

Phone.

Wallet.

Receipts.

An arcade token.

A crumpled packet of mints.

Kevin picked up one receipt.

“You paid two-hundred and thirty-seven dollars for cocktails?”

“Evidence of a thriving social life.”

“Evidence of poor financial discipline.”

“I’m an accountant, not a monk.”

Liza leaned over Kevin’s shoulder and skimmed the items. There were at least four items that sounded more like ladies’ drinks than something Rob normally bought.

“Did you at least get her Instagram profile?” she asked.

“We were already talking before that night.”

They continued inventorying the rest of their possessions

Nicole had photographs from earlier in the trip.

Liza had several videos.

Alec had a picture of Rob asleep beside the fire wearing one shoe.

Rob reached for the phone.

Alec pulled it away.

“Delete that.”

“No.”

Kevin looked at Alec.

“Do not delete any photos or videos.”

“Why?”

“Evidence.”

“For whom?”

“No idea.”

Alec wrote:

Limited medical supplies.
Limited power.
No external communication.
Unknown food and water safety.
Critical equipment in local custody.
Public witness status may provide temporary protection.

Kevin pointed at the final word.

“Underline temporary.”

Alec did.

“Better?”

“Yes.”

Alec made the final section.

DECISIONS / ACTIONS

“This is where we decide what we’re actually doing.”

Everyone moved closer.

The room did not become calm.

It became directed.

Alec wrote as they agreed.

Nobody goes anywhere alone.

Nobody agrees to private questioning.

Nobody demonstrates unfamiliar technology without discussing it first.

Nobody explains more than necessary.

Do not eat or drink until Nicole performs whatever checks are possible.

Preserve power.

Preserve evidence.

Avoid provoking guards unless there is an immediate threat.

Do not issue judgments, guidance, prophecies, recommendations, blessings, rulings, or strategic advice without group agreement.

Rob stared at the final rule.

“What if someone asks a simple question?”

“You say we are deliberating.”

Rob smiled.

“So my improvisation was useful.”

Kevin looked at the serving tray.

“Add that Robert is not authorized to define our responsibilities.”

Alec sighed and wrote:

No individual may define or expand the group’s public role without agreement.

Rob looked betrayed.

“This organization suppresses initiative.”

“This organization has existed for less than an hour,” Kevin said, “and you already accepted external obligations.”

Liza pointed at the board.

“Alec wrote action items.”

“We need actions.”

“You brought deliverables into an isekai.”

“Rob brought the deliverables.”

“I brought diplomacy.”

Kevin looked around the room.

“Also assume we’re being watched.”

Alec glanced at the walls.

“That is an assessment.”

“Then action: verify surveillance.”

Alec nodded and wrote:

Kevin and Liza: inspect room and communications.

Kevin pointed at Rob.

“Rob and Alec reconstruct the exact wording used in the sanctum. No interpretation on the first pass.”

“We already did.” Rob replied.

“Do it again without improving the language.”

“That removes my primary value.”

“Nicole repeats the medical assessment in one hour,” Alec said.

Nicole nodded.

“And nobody sleeps alone,” she added. “Two awake at all times.”

Alec wrote:

Rotating watch.

Rob sighed.

Kevin had already taken out his phone.

He reduced the brightness and checked the device settings.

Bluetooth enabled.

His wireless earphones appeared.

So did Alec’s phone.

Kevin stopped.

Bluetooth did not require a tower, satellite, or internet connection.

It only required compatible hardware within range.

They were all in the same room.

It was a prototype Kevin had written several months earlier after deciding that relying entirely on cellular coverage during hiking trips was stupid. The application was designed to work in two modes. Phones within range could connect directly to one another without a cellular network, while a small external radio transceiver could act as a bridge when they needed considerably more distance.

Kevin had handled most of the software. Liza had helped with the hardware interface and spent an entire weekend fixing the device-discovery system after his first version kept dropping connections whenever someone locked their screen.

She had called the entire project trucker-radio cosplay.

Unfortunately, none of the radio prototypes had come with them.

Kevin had left those at home because this was supposed to be a camping trip, not a field test.

The application was still installed on four of their phones, though, and direct phone-to-phone communication did not require any of the missing hardware.

Alec had installed it because Kevin demanded testers.

Nicole had installed it to end the argument.

Rob had installed it after Kevin promised alcohol, then removed it later because he claimed he needed the storage space.

Kevin opened a local room.

For several seconds, nothing happened.

Then:

Alec B found.

Kevin stared at the screen.

He typed with one thumb.

test

Across the room, Alec’s phone vibrated.

Alec looked down.

Kevin immediately sent:

don’t react

Alec’s eyes lifted toward him once.

Then moved away.

Good.

Kevin typed:

local messaging works

Alec read it, then casually crossed toward Nicole and showed her the screen.

Her eyes widened.

She kept quiet.

Rob noticed both of them.

“What?”

Alec showed him.

Rob opened his mouth.

Kevin pointed at him.

Rob slowly closed it.

Liza saw the exchange and moved closer.

Alec angled the phone toward her.

She read the message.

Her entire face lit up.

“Bluetooth works?”

Everyone looked toward the door.

Armor shifted outside.

Liza covered her mouth half a second too late.

Kevin lowered his head.

Alec closed his eyes.

Nicole whispered, “Seriously?”

Liza mouthed an apology.

Kevin raised his voice slightly.

“Yes, Liza. Your tooth is still blue. What other color would it be?”

The armor outside stopped moving.

Rob stared at him.

“That’s your cover story?”

Liza took out her phone and joined the room.

Nicole joined next.

Rob searched through his applications.

“I don’t have it.”

“You removed it.”

“It took up space.”

“It was twelve megabytes.”

“I needed the space.”

“For what?”

Rob did not answer.

Kevin still had the installation file saved in a development folder.

He sent it directly to Rob’s phone.

Rob stared at the warning.

“Unknown source.”

“You know the source.”

“It says unknown.”

“I am sitting in front of you.”

Rob enabled the installation.

A moment later:

Rob A joined.

Rob typed:

HOLY SHIT

Kevin replied:

quietly

Rob:

holy shit quietly

Alec:

Can all five see this?

Nicole:

yes

Liza:

yes

For the first time since the golden boundary appeared, they possessed something that could reasonably be described as an advantage.

It was not a weapon or an escape route.

Just a way to speak without speaking.

Kevin looked at Liza.

She raised both middle fingers.

Alec returned to the board and began discussing sleeping arrangements aloud.

Deliberately ordinary subjects.

“Anyway… two people awake at all times.”

Rob groaned.

“This was supposed to be relaxing.”

“We are under guard in a foreign palace.”

“Strongly themed camping.”

“You and Kevin take the first watch.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want every schedule that includes you.”

“I believe in consistency.”

Kevin typed:

keep talking normally
assume audio surveillance

Nicole:

You really think they can hear us?

Kevin:

I would listen

Rob:

I would have three microphones

Liza:

magic microphones

Kevin:

need to find out

He slipped the phone into one hand and began inspecting the room.

He started with the windows, pretending to check the bars again. The lattice had been fixed deep into the stone, with no loose sections or obvious way to remove it without tools. The door was much the same: thick wood reinforced with metal, surrounded by carved vines that appeared decorative.

There was nothing that resembled a camera or a microphone.

Of course, that meant very little. They were inside a castle built by people who apparently have magic, and Kevin had no idea what their version of surveillance would look like.

Alec continued discussing the watch rotation behind him.

“After Kevin and Rob, Nicole and me.”

Nicole shook her head.

“You need sleep.”

“So do you.”

“I’m checking everyone again in an hour.”

“You can do that after resting.”

They continued to talk about who’s going to stay awake with Liza after. Somehow Rob was nominated again.

Kevin moved towards the fireplace.

What finally caught his attention was a bronze sunburst mounted high on the wall near the fireplace. Similar motifs appeared everywhere in the palace, enough that he had ignored it when they first entered. A circular face sat at its center, surrounded by narrow metal rays worked into the stone.

This one bothered him.

It was positioned precisely between the door and the beds. From there, it faced the table, fireplace, windows, and every place a person would naturally sit or speak.

Exactly where Kevin would have installed a camera.

He stepped closer.

Kevin typed:

bronze ornament thing near the fireplace

Liza glanced toward it.

Kevin added:

don’t stare

Her eyes moved elsewhere.

She changed direction before looking directly at the wall and wandered toward the fireplace instead. A few seconds later, she crouched near the flames as though warming her hands.

She looked up only briefly.

Then she typed:
what about it

Kevin:
placement

Rob:
camera?

Kevin:
maybe

Nicole:
Do not touch it

Kevin looked at her.

Nicole was rearranging the medical supplies without raising her head.

Kevin typed:

wasn’t planning to

Liza:

liar

Kevin ignored her and moved closer.

Alec kept the spoken conversation moving.

“We ask for our belongings afterward.”

“All of them,” Liza said aloud.

“Except the weapons,” Nicole replied.

Kevin turned his attention to her.

Nicole shrugged.

“They aren’t returning those immediately.”

“Probably not,” Kevin conceded

“Definitely not.”

Rob leaned back.

“Can we negotiate visitation rights?”

“No,” Alec said.

Kevin leaned closer to the ornament without touching it.

Something moved behind the bronze.

He stopped.

For less than a second, a narrow section near the center had been dark instead of metallic.

Then something pale crossed it.

Kevin stared.

An eye.

The opening snapped shut.

The movement was so fast that he almost convinced himself he had imagined it, except the faint seam he had been examining was now aligned differently.

Kevin slowly stepped away from the wall.

His phone remained at his side.

Kevin:
confirmed

Liza did not look at him.

Liza:
what

Kevin:
viewing slit

There was a pause before the replies appeared.

Nicole:
Someone is behind the wall?

Kevin:
someone was looking through it

Kevin looked back at the bronze sunburst.

Alec continued discussing sleeping arrangements as though nobody had discovered a person hiding inside the architecture.

Kevin typed one final message.

physical surveillance

assume they can hear us too