The first one to wake up was Doug.
Barely conscious, I cracked an eye open and saw him sit up in bed, pull out his diary, and scribble a few words in the half-light. Then he whispered a short prayer under his breath, closed the book, and laid right back down.
It puzzled me.
Why wake up just to do that? What was the point? Maybe I still didn't understand how people like Doug worked… or maybe I was just too tired to care.
I slipped back into sleep, and the next thing I knew, a few hours had passed. When I finally woke up for good, the room was brighter, and everyone else was already gone.
I sat up, groggy. My muscles ached, probably still worn out from the fight with Cael. My throat felt scratchy too. I croaked a weak "ugh" and rubbed my eyes.
Tucker walked in from the hallway, phone in hand, thumbs moving rapidly across the screen as he played some game. He looked up and grinned.
"Shirley! You're alive!" he joked.
"Barely," I rasped, my voice hoarse. I coughed a little, but it wasn't sickness. Just exhaustion.
ZE210 popped his head into the room before fully entering. "Gooood morning!" he chirped, throwing his arms wide like this was some kind of musical.
I blinked at him, then looked around. "Where is everyone?"
"They woke up earlier and headed out to grab breakfast," Tucker replied, glancing back down at his screen. "We figured we'd wait on you. You can shower first."
He said it so casually, but I could tell he meant it. I gave a tired smirk. "Thanks."
ZE210 led me to the guest bathroom. It wasn't fancy, but it had warm water and soap, and after the day we had yesterday, that was all I needed. I let the steam soak into my sore limbs as I washed the grime and blood and stress off my skin. Shampoo, conditioner, face scrub, teeth brushed. By the time I stepped out, I felt human again. Finally clean.
I threw on my usual: a clean white T-shirt, black jorts, white socks pulled up just above the ankle, and my white sneakers. Simple and comfortable.
Tucker, meanwhile, had stuck with his style: baggy jeans hanging slightly low, a crisp white tee, and matching white shoes. His hair was a little messy, but somehow it worked for him. He threw on a black hoodie before we left the room.
We followed ZE210 down a narrow hallway that opened into a stone dining area lined with mismatched chairs and a long wooden table. Lights hung from the ceiling, casting a bright glow over trays of eggs, toast, sliced fruit, and bowls of steaming porridge.
The rest of the group was already there.
Madison sat closest to the window, sipping from a mug of tea. Her outfit was stylish but subtle—a light blue hoodie layered over a white tank top, paired with black cargo pants tucked into sleek black boots. Her hair, now dry and brushed, framed her face with effortless confidence.
Doug sat beside her, still writing in his diary between bites of eggs. He wore a dark green button-up, sleeves rolled to the elbows, with khaki slacks and clean, brown, loafers. As expected.
Micheal stood near the far end of the table, talking quietly to Sage. He wore a fitted black T-shirt, a thin silver chain, and charcoal-gray joggers. His hair was damp, freshly washed, and his expression looked lighter than it had yesterday.
When they noticed us entering, Madison gave a slight wave. Doug smiled. Micheal nodded.
"About time you two showed up," Madison teased.
I grinned. "Had to recharge."
Tucker flopped into the seat across from her, already reaching for a muffin. "Don't worry. We're here now."
I dragged a chair beside Tucker and practically fell into it.
"I am starving," I groaned, grabbing a plate like it owed me money.
We tore into our breakfast without hesitation— eggs, fruit, bread, whatever we could get our hands on.
After a while, we leaned back in our seats, plates wiped clean, stomachs full. The room buzzed with quiet conversation, forks clinking, and ZE210 humming some strange melody in the corner.
Tucker leaned back and let out a satisfied sigh. "That might've been the best meal I've had since arriving here."
"Probably the first real one, too," I said, wiping my mouth.
Just as we started to slip into post-breakfast chill mode, ZE210 burst through the hallway entrance like a damn missile, nearly slipping on the stone floor.
"GUYS—!" he shouted, voice pitched higher than usual. He waved a glossy flyer in one hand and a folded map in the other.
Everyone at the table turned to look at him, startled.
ZE210 skidded to a stop beside us, panting for dramatic effect even though he didn't need to breathe.
"Guys! Guys! Look at this!"
He slammed the flyer down on the table so hard I thought it'd snap.
Across the paper, in bold sparkling letters, it read:
"PARADISE PLAZA: ONCE-A-YEAR SALE – EVERYTHING MUST GO!"
Below that, colorful images of clothing stores, shoe outlets, dessert stands, arcades, tech booths, and a glowing fountain flashed like a fever dream.
Tucker leaned forward, eyebrow raised. "The mall?"
"The mall," ZE210 said, almost reverently. "Paradise Plaza. The heart of the Land of Paradise's shopping district. They've got a sale at every single store today. Fashion, food, entertainment… the works!"
"And you're telling us this because…?" I asked.
ZE210 grinned. "Because yer two look like you could use some fun. And I figured this would be the perfect opportunity for a little breather! I even highlighted the route!"
He unfolded the map and pointed at a glowing pink trail that led out of the hideout, through a few winding roads, and straight into the plaza district.
I glanced at Tucker. He looked at me.
We both nodded.
"Why not?" I said, stretching. "I could use a change of pace. And maybe a new outfit."
Tucker frowned, "We don't got any money." Then, ZE210 slammed probably around 600 on the table, "Boom. Coreeens. Choreees Currency. Your rich."
Tucker stood, a slight grin on his face, "Alright then!"
ZE210 clapped his hands excitedly. "Yes! Yes! Let's go, let's go, let's go!"
We told the others where we were heading—Micheal gave a simple nod, Madison offered a slight smirk, and Doug muttered something about bringing back souvenirs. Then we grabbed our stuff and followed ZE210 back through the stone corridors of the man cave until we reached the hidden elevator that connected to the surface.
With a soft rumble, the platform rose.
The sunlight hit our faces the moment we breached the surface, warm, golden, and somehow sweeter than before. The Land of Paradise was as colorful and whimsical as ever. Birds chirped in perfect rhythm, fountains danced along cobbled walkways, and the streets were already filled with people laughing, walking, shopping, living.
The plaza wasn't far. From where we stood, we could already see the massive arch that led into the shopping district—PARADISE PLAZA engraved in glimmering letters above it.
Tucker nudged me. "Think they have those cream-filled waffles?"
I smirked. "Only one way to find out."