André opened his eyes and took a moment to adjust to the lighting. He was lying down but couldn't move—he could feel the restraints binding him to the bed, though at least this one was far more comfortable than the last places he'd managed to sleep. Gradually, he took in his surroundings.
The entire room was white and pristine, as were his clothes. Everything looked new and smelled clean. Not stone like the last place that had served as his shelter... There was no other furniture, only the bed to which he was strapped. The space was a cubicle of barely six square meters.
The door opened, and a familiar voice reached André's ears:
"About damn time you made it out of that hellhole."
André strained to turn his head. Even knowing who it was, he needed visual confirmation.
"Felipe... Is this another hallucination? No... can't be... I think this is definitely the first time I'm actually happy to see you."
A Black man with colorful dreads and a yellow jacket stood by the door, grinning. Hearing André's words, he glanced at his old acquaintance's bandaged arms and his smile faded, head lowering.
"So it was true? There really was another way to cross between worlds?"
"Mm-hmm. You were right." André confirmed. "But now's not the time for that. Get me out of here—you know damn well there's no reason to keep me locked up."
Felipe nodded and left the room, returning seconds later with two tall, muscular men.
"You sure about this?" one of them asked. "From what I hear, he could kill us all if he wanted to."
"That's what the boss said," the other added.
"Remember that I run the Intelligence Division," Felipe replied. "You follow my orders. Besides, if he causes any trouble, I'll take full responsibility."
André had been silent until that moment, but couldn't resist.
"Since when do you take responsibility for anything?" he asked, dripping with irony as the guards freed him from the cuffs binding his wrists, ankles, neck, and waist.
"A lot's changed in the last four years. Better brace yourself." Felipe's tone was equally mocking. "You're in for quite a few surprises."
Finally free of all restraints, André sat up with considerable difficulty, staring hard at Felipe. He wanted to embrace him and punch him in the face simultaneously.
Felipe seemed to read his thoughts. He smiled and said:
"Let's take a walk. First stop's the kitchen—judging by how you look, you desperately need food."
André said nothing, just struggled toward the door. Felipe pointed the way, and the two walked side by side down the corridor without exchanging a word.
The poor young man with disheveled brown hair and a malnourished frame arrived at the kitchen practically drooling, devouring everything within reach. Gradually, he felt his strength returning, even though his arms barely functioned and his hands remained clenched.
Moving his arms caused André immense pain, yet he needed them to bring food to his mouth. His warrior's pride wouldn't allow him to accept help—especially from Felipe. That would be too humiliating.
"You know... this world's pretty different from where we were," Felipe said, breaking the silence. "Magic doesn't exist here—technology's what matters. We've even got a team working on creating a key that can open the portal from this side. Maybe in two years—"
Before the grinning young man could finish, André cut him off:
"I need you to call the others. As soon as possible."
"WHAT?" Felipe was so shocked he shouted. "Some of them want you dead, remember?"
"Don't care." André's expression was dead serious. "There's something far more important than childish grudges we need to discuss."
"What kind of—?" Felipe asked, chewing on a cookie.
André didn't answer, just kept eating. Felipe took a deep breath to keep from punching the starving wretch. Despite being known as the most patient of the 33, Felipe always lost his patience with André.
"Fine," Felipe said. "You owe me one."
Felipe left for a few minutes. When he returned to the kitchen, he found André still seated, finishing off a jar of cookies. He was greeted by a prolonged belch.
"I messaged the others," Felipe said. "Now we wait and see how many are willing to talk to you."
"Thanks." André's head dipped in gratitude.
"You're thanking me? Ha!" Felipe laughed in genuine surprise. "First time for everything, I guess."
Seeing that André had finished eating, Felipe offered to show him around the facility, explaining how they'd found him comatose months earlier. A few meters past the kitchen, Felipe stopped.
"They're going to want to know what's so urgent that you're calling them in," Felipe said, tone turning serious. "And I don't know if you remember, but every meeting you've been part of ended badly. This better be good."
André kept walking, stopping after exactly six paces. He turned to face Felipe, and looking him dead in the eye, spoke slowly and deliberately:
"The Silver Knight..."
Before he could finish, fear flashed across Felipe's eyes.
"...He's here," André concluded. "I have proof he somehow managed to cross over."
Felipe took two steps back, dropped his head, and muttered:
"Fucking nightmare that never ends..."
Felipe's words captured exactly what he felt in that moment. His mind reeled—though the information was simple enough to grasp, evaluating the situation was infinitely complex. He needed time to process.
"I know the news that the Silver Knight crossed over opens up countless possibilities, and not even your ability can evaluate the situation easily." André appeared calm. "I think we still have time. I'll explain everything when the others arrive."
"If they agree to meet with you..." Felipe replied, looking defeated. "But if they know why, I think they'll all come."
"I don't want to explain this to each person individually. I'd rather do it once. Besides, many would doubt me if I can't prove it's true."
With that, André headed back to the room where he'd woken earlier. Felipe understood he needed rest and decided not to disturb him further.