– CHAPTER ONE –

  TAP AGREE TO CONTINUE

  Every morning, Americ-Ana woke early. But not before hitting the snooze button on her phone at least four times in a row.

  Not the kind of person anyone expected to see winning a beauty pageant or earning an academic award, she did only what was required, never what amazed. Standing out just took more than she was willing to give.

  Short in stature, with a build neither fat nor thin, her dark hair reached exactly to the clasp of her bra.

  Part-time, she worked as a cook for two people and an animal. But lest anyone assume she was paid for her labor, let it be said plainly: Americ-Ana earned no money for her work.

  Her compensation was a small room to sleep in, which, given her circumstances, was already a lot. In the reality she inhabited, she wouldn’t be able to afford even a single night in a modest hotel in Malibu, California.

  The two people for whom Americ-Ana cooked were her aunt, Mrs. Karen, and her cousin, Miss Lily. Mother and daughter shared a rather peculiar pet: a massive pink pig named Mister Bacon.

  The unusual pet had been a prize Miss Lily won in a rural beauty contest. At the time, the little piglet was no larger than a chihuahua, but it quickly grew to gorilla-like proportions. Curiously, that had never been a problem for Mrs. Karen and Miss Lily. On the contrary, both regarded the creature as the most important member of the family.

  On that sunny Wednesday, August 7th, 2024, Americ-Ana was frying eggs with her head bowed, in complete silence. No headline on the TV hinted at the extraordinary event that was about to stir up quite a commotion across the entire State of California.

  Mrs. Karen, engrossed in her Bluetooth gossip, was spraying tanning mist across Miss Lily’s back, while the girl remained motionless, wearing an expression of absolute boredom.

  On the kitchen floor, Mister Bacon took up nearly all the available space, lying belly-up and patiently waiting for his breakfast.

  None of them noticed the exact moment when the emoji of a white owl blinked three times on the Smart TV screen.

  At eleven-thirty in the morning, when it was already lunchtime for most people, it was still breakfast for Mrs. Karen, Miss Lily, and Mister Bacon.

  On the morning menu were pork sausages fried in pork lard, bacon fried in pork lard, and toast generously scorched in greasy butter. It was a basic requirement to ensure Mister Bacon began his day without stress.

  All of Americ-Ana’s effort, however, was truly appreciated only by the pig. During pageant weeks, Miss Lily confined herself to a Spartan diet of crushed ice with lemon juice and apple cider vinegar.

  Mrs. Karen, meanwhile, made a point of joining her daughter in these dietary extravagances. She was utterly convinced that nothing proved a queen never loses her crown better than the shocked faces of other mothers upon seeing her still effortlessly fit into the iconic hot pink size 4 dress she had worn at her last pageant before pregnancy.

  Always keeping her head lowered and avoiding eye contact, Americ-Ana would serve Mister Bacon’s meal on porcelain plates, as her aunt demanded. Both Mrs. Karen and Miss Lily insisted on pausing whatever they were doing just to watch the pig eat.

  Americ-Ana always took care to make it visibly clear that she had served every bit of food prepared for him. That caution came from experience. On one occasion, she had hidden a slice of toast in her pocket to eat later, but Mister Bacon’s sharp nose didn’t miss it. He had responded by sinking his teeth into her backside.

  As if it weren’t enough, Mrs. Karen, shouting at the top of her lungs, accused her of theft and threatened to call “Immigration”.

  The word beginning with “I” was the trump card mother and daughter always kept ready. It was their weapon of choice to keep Americ-Ana under control.

  Still keeping her head lowered and careful not to make a sound, not even the sound of her own breath, Americ-Ana tried to leave the kitchen and head toward her next shift. Her aunt, however, pressed the mute button on her Bluetooth and set the can of tanning spray down on the table.

  “Don’t forget tonight is the dress fitting for tomorrow’s pageant. Stop by the dry cleaner after work and be here on time,” said Mrs. Karen, her lips pursed, as though addressing her niece were a burden she had to endure.

  “Yes, ma’am. Understood,” replied Americ-Ana, in a tone just loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough not to invite retaliation.

  She then walked to the front of the house, ready for her other part-time job. As she laced up her skates, she felt the sun warming her skin. The sound of ocean waves in the distance played as her soundtrack.

  Skating over the hot, gleaming asphalt under the sunlight, Americ-Ana had her attention abruptly captured as she stopped at the first traffic light of the second intersection on her way to her other job.

  While waiting for the green light, something unexpected happened: the emoji of an albino cat blinked three times within the red signal.

  For a moment, she couldn’t make sense of what she’d seen. She blinked repeatedly and looked again, trying to confirm. But the light remained red, the drivers around her stayed indifferent, and there was no sign of any emoji anywhere on the traffic signal.

  Sleep deprivation? Overwork? Poor nutrition? Perhaps all of the above. After all, traffic lights showed green, yellow, and red. She had never heard of signals displaying feline figures.

  As soon as the light turned green, Americ-Ana moved on, pushing the strange vision out of her mind. For the rest of the ride, her thoughts turned solely to the long line of clients she’d have to serve that day.

  Yet as she veered onto the sidewalk and slipped into the bike lane, the concerns about that day’s clientele were quickly swept from her mind by something else entirely.

  At the usual crosswalk, Americ-Ana couldn’t help but notice the unusual number of people dressed entirely in white, walking the streets and pointing their phone cameras in every direction.

  There were white clothes of every type and style. Her first thought was that it must be some new trend sweeping through social media.

  Her gaze followed a group of teens about her age crossing the street. They looked entirely focused, oblivious to everything around them.

  The only thing that broke the monochromatic scene was the phone cases they carried, displaying every possible shade, from vibrant emerald green to a less-than-inspired vomit green.

  Americ-Ana couldn’t help but reflect on how easy life seemed for certain people. People who didn’t have to worry about what to eat, what to wear, or even where they’d sleep the next day.

  For them, things just happened. Everything was given. Everything seemed effortless, like picking up a phone and wandering around in search of something meaningless.

  Then, brushing the thought aside, she figured it was probably some silly promotion. They were likely taking part in a newly launched app or game.

  The traffic moved on, and a few blocks later, Americ-Ana arrived at the tanning-focused beauty clinic: the Golden Glow Studio.

  She refocused her mind and braced herself for another long shift of public-facing work.

  At Golden Glow Studio, Americ-Ana worked as a receptionist. She sat behind the customer service counter, her back to the television, and kept her phone on airplane mode to ensure no clinic call would be missed or accidentally rerouted.

  This habit of disconnecting from both TV and phone in the name of concentration would turn out to be an unexpected advantage that day. Had she been paying attention, staying focused might have proven more difficult.

  After all, she didn’t see the albino owl emojis blinking in psychedelic rhythms across the television screen, nor did she notice the excitement of the clients arriving in a frenzy, all talking about some supposed extraordinary opportunity. Many pointed their phone cameras frantically at anything that moved.

  For Americ-Ana, however, the afternoon passed in the most absolute normalcy. No mysterious emojis, no mass hysteria, just the usual: five clients shouting at her, two important calls missed, and another client shouting some more. All well within standard operating chaos.

  At least until her break.

  After assisting her ninth client, she felt the need to stretch her legs. She decided to cross the street and sit for a few minutes on the bench at the plaza across from the clinic, out in the open air.

  Seated beneath the shade of a large tree, its leaves swaying gently in the wind, Americ-Ana tried to absorb as much fresh oxygen as she could, letting herself be wrapped in the breeze that caressed her face.

  For a few moments, she completely forgot about the people dressed in white. That is, until a group of them approached with their phone cameras already in motion.

  Instinctively, she lowered her head as they drew near. She wasn’t sure why, but their presence made her uneasy. They whispered excitedly among themselves, yet, curiously, none of them seemed to be livestreaming on any app.

  It was only as she passed by them, on her way back, that she caught stray fragments of their conversation:

  “…The QR Code could be anywhere, that’s what I heard…”

  “…It’s the chance to become part of the elite that rules the world…”

  Americ-Ana came to a sudden stop. A subtle glimmer of fascination flickered in her eyes. She turned her head toward the group of whisperers as if about to ask something, but hesitated. She thought better of it.

  She crossed the street in a hurry, stepped into the staff bathroom, and turned on the sink faucet. For a moment, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Then she cupped her hands, filled them with water, and splashed her face. The coolness washed over her, scattering the restless thoughts.

  Convinced that it must be just another publicity stunt, maybe some artist promoting a new album, she tried to push the subject from her mind. Then again, maybe it wasn’t music. It could have been marketing from a major company, or perhaps both. Either way, one thing was certain: whatever it was, it had made an impact.

  But what difference did it make to her?

  There was no point worrying about something she wouldn’t be able to join in, anyway.

  And yet...

  The thought of entering a global elite that ruled the world sent a shiver down her spine.

  It would mean never again living off the goodwill of others. Never again cooking obscene amounts of food for a pig while going hungry herself.

  It felt like a real chance to change her life. But would it truly be a change, or just the exchange of one form of suffering for another? Would scarcity simply find a new address?

  Still… those people in white…

  Americ-Ana found it much harder to concentrate on work that afternoon. As she stepped out of the bathroom, still lost in her own daydreams and heading back to the reception desk, she accidentally walked straight into a member of the cleaning staff with unexpected force.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, seeing that the woman had stumbled and nearly fallen.

  It took her a few seconds to register that the woman was dressed in a completely white uniform, from head to toe. It was as if the outfit had been deliberately modified to match the strange pattern Americ-Ana had been noticing all day.

  But curiously, the woman didn’t seem the least bit upset about almost being knocked over. On the contrary: her face lit up with a wide smile, and in a high-pitched voice that made several clients turn their heads, she exclaimed:

  “No need to apologize, sister, because nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for the true opportunity to escape misery has finally arrived! All the wronged souls who work tirelessly for a wretched life, just like you, should be celebrating such a joyful day!”

  Before Americ-Ana could react, the woman wrapped her in a tight hug around the waist and then simply walked away.

  Americ-Ana stood there, frozen.

  She had been hugged for no apparent reason. And beyond that, there was the unsettling feeling that her coworker had just called her life miserable.

  She was shaken.

  Hurrying back to the front desk, she hoped desperately that things might finally return to normal. But deep down, she knew that was unlikely. Everyone around her seemed to be acting oddly.

  When she powered on the reception computer at four in the afternoon, her hope of regaining focus vanished instantly. Flashing on the screen was the same albino cat she thought she had seen earlier at the traffic light.

  Now, the image was split into three sections, each blinking furiously across the entire width of the monitor.

  “Shoo!” she muttered, as if chasing off a real cat, and pressed the restart button.

  But the albino cat didn’t vanish. It kept blinking, undisturbed.

  Without thinking twice, Americ-Ana yanked the power cord straight from the outlet. It was a desperate attempt to rid herself of the bizarre image.

  To the girl’s dismay, the manager of Golden Glow Studio, Lisa Soap, known as much for her name as for her total lack of tact, noticed the commotion and walked over to find out what was going on. Unaware that her presence was only making things worse for Americ-Ana, she chewed her gum loudly, rolled her eyes, and said:

  “Yo, what’s the deal, girl? Got dumped and now you’re spiraling?”

  Without waiting for an answer and pretending she genuinely cared about other people’s wellbeing, she rushed to share her own theory:

  “Don’t sweat it, babe, everything’s gonna line up, ya feel me? Look, take a break from the grind and vibe with the moment, okay? I’m dying to get outta here and do some sweeps all over Malibu. What if this is, like, my big break or somethin’?”

  Before Americ-Ana could say a word, Lisa shoved her gently aside, plugged the computer back in, and pulled up a breaking news portal.

  Forced to watch, since it was now her boss controlling the screen, Americ-Ana held her breath.

  On the monitor, a reporter wearing a violet tie, aboard a helicopter flying over the iconic Hollywood sign, announced with feverish enthusiasm what he called the biggest event of the century. His voice, raised to overpower the roar of the blades, carried a mixture of urgency and exhilaration.

  "Hello, California… and hello to everyone watching us from anywhere in the world. We are live."

  The reporter smiled into the camera with the confidence of someone announcing history. His impeccable suit gleamed under the lights, but it was his voice that drew attention. It was deep, measured, and steeped in mystery.

  "Something is happening. Something grand. Something unique."

  A brief pause, as if the air itself were holding the breath of the global audience.

  "Have you ever heard of the THE-IMPERIUM bunker?"

  The footage shifted. Rapid cuts showed the Hollywood sign overlaid with digital graphics. The reporter's voice continued:

  "It’s far more than a typical bunker. It is the empire of the titans who rule the world."

  Aerial images revealed Mount Lee, silent and monumental. An animated arrow pointed toward the mountain’s underground.

  "Hidden beneath the iconic Hollywood sign, in the depths of Mount Lee, lies the enigmatic THE-IMPERIUM bunker. A place reserved for the few. Only those whose surnames echo through history have ever crossed its gates. Until now."

  The reporter stared into the lens, steady.

  "For the first time in ages, something unprecedented has been revealed. A stranger. An outsider. Someone 'ordinary' will have the chance to enter this restricted domain. But only one. And that person… could be you."

  The screen now showed the Novaxtraai logo spinning in three dimensions.

  " Novaxtraai, always at the forefront of innovation, has developed a revolutionary augmented reality system to select who will be granted this one-of-a-kind opportunity. A method that blends technology with destiny."

  In bold capital letters, a question appeared on screen:

  "HOW DOES IT WORK? Somewhere in California, two mysterious figures are waiting: an albino cat and an albino owl. Many may have already seen one of them… but that’s not enough. The passport to THE-IMPERIUM will only be unlocked when someone finds both in the same location. At the exact midpoint between them, a QR Code will appear. It will be a one-of-a-kind digital code. Whoever scans that QR Code will be the chosen one."

  Another question flashed across the screen in pulsing letters:

  "BUT HOW DO YOU DO THAT? Novaxtraai has developed an exclusive app capable of detecting these hidden figures in the real world. Download the Novaxtraai app to your phone. Head into the streets, the parks, the avenues, the alleyways. Your destiny might be hiding anywhere. Open your camera through the app and scan your surroundings. If you find an albino cat, keep searching. If you find an albino owl, do the same. But when the two appear together, be ready. At the exact center between them, the QR Code will emerge. The first to find it will gain access to the THE-IMPERIUM bunker."

  The reporter gave a half-smile. He leaned slightly toward the camera.

  "And here’s a warning: this is not a game. The code is non-transferable. Only the one who finds it will be able to use it. Only one will be chosen. There will be no second chance. The hunt has already begun."

  With a firm gaze, the reporter raised his voice:

  "So I ask you… Who will be the lucky one? Man or woman? Who will break the barrier between the ordinary and the untouchable? Who will be the first to set foot in THE-IMPERIUM without a powerful name or billions in gold bars stored in a vault? Who will dare to defy tradition and breach the gates of the most exclusive bunker on the planet?"

  The camera closed in on his face. His voice, now almost a whisper, concluded:

  "California, the die is cast. The question is… are you paying attention to what’s around you? Open your eyes. The future might be right beside you. Or perhaps… waiting on the screen of your phone. Good luck. Back to you in the studio."

  Americ-Ana swallowed hard.

  A QR Code that could be hidden anywhere in California? Emojis of cats and owls appearing all over the place? People dressed in white, pacing around frantically with their phones, as if searching for something invisible?

  And above all, that phrase echoing in her mind…

  “The great opportunity for a new life, soaked in greatness.”

  Beside her, Lisa Soap was typing furiously on her phone, exchanging messages with someone, completely absorbed in the conversation.

  “Shit… shit!” she muttered, eyes glued to the screen.

  Americ-Ana tore her gaze away from the monitor and watched the manager, who seemed even more jittery than usual.

  “What is it?” she asked, without much hope of getting a straight answer.

  Lisa was chewing on her thumbnail, visibly torn, then suddenly leaned in toward Americ-Ana, lowering her voice as if about to share a forbidden secret.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  "You’re not gonna believe this…" she whispered, her eyes gleaming with feverish excitement. "I just got a screenshot. Someone around here found the cat and the owl."

  Americ-Ana’s heart skipped a beat.

  "What?"

  "They found both of them together! That means the QR Code appeared. Someone’s already been chosen."

  A chill ran up Americ-Ana’s neck. A cold shiver traced her spine.

  Hope had just ended for almost everyone. But for one among millions… it was only beginning.

  Lisa Soap backed away, her fingers racing across her phone screen with even more intensity.

  "I’m gonna find out where this happened," she muttered to herself. "I’m gonna find it and…"

  The sentence hung in the air.

  A notification sound cut through the moment.

  A new message had popped up on Lisa’s phone. A link.

  Lisa frowned and tapped the screen. Her eyes widened, and a second later, she let out a disbelieving laugh.

  "Oh no… You are not gonna believe this, girl."

  Americ-Ana felt her stomach twist.

  "What?"

  Lisa turned the phone toward her. On the screen, a newly posted anonymous message displayed a single name:

  "The QR Code has been scanned! The chosen one is among us… Congratulations, Marie Carter!"

  The name hit her like a punch to the gut.

  "Marie Carter?" Americ-Ana repeated, her throat going dry.

  She knew Marie Carter. And not just vaguely. Marie was a regular client at the clinic, always attended by Americ-Ana herself.

  The customers, who had until then been whispering among themselves, began reaching for their phones. Fingers flew across screens. The news spread like wildfire.

  Lisa let out a low whistle.

  “Girl… that bitch just scored the pass to the THE-IMPERIUM Bunker. Do you even realize? Her life is set.”

  Americ-Ana turned her gaze toward the computer screen, where the live broadcast was still flickering.

  The reporter in the violet tie had resumed speaking with excitement. Within seconds, a photo of Marie Carter appeared on the TV.

  There she was. Smiling. Holding a cup of lemonade on a tennis court.

  The caption below left no room for doubt:

  "THE WINNER HAS BEEN REVEALED! CONGRATULATIONS, MARIE CARTER!"

  The entire clinic erupted in murmurs. Some clients burst into tears. Others were sending hysterical voice messages.

  Americ-Ana kept staring at the image, a tight knot forming in her chest.

  So, that was it. The search was over.

  Marie Carter, heiress to a laser printer empire. Someone who never needed a radical life change. Someone who had never gone hungry, never had to worry about where to sleep or what to wear, because in the end, she already had it all. She was the lucky one. The chance of a lifetime.

  But not for someone who truly needed it.

  Lisa was still staring at her phone, lips twisted in a grimace.

  "That was fast… a little too fast, don’t you think?"

  Americ-Ana could barely respond. It all felt so unfair.

  When Lisa finally looked up, her expression had shifted.

  "Girl, my gut’s telling me something’s off. That was way too easy."

  But Americ-Ana wasn’t listening anymore. Her mind was far. Far, far away.

  LATER...

  Dusk had fallen by the time Americ-Ana finally left work. The heavy Malibu heat clung to her skin, and the buzz of the news still echoed in her ears. But none of that mattered at the moment. She had to pick up Lily’s dress from the dry cleaner before heading home.

  The attendant was already waiting for her, holding a protective plastic bag with the royal blue dress sealed inside. Americ-Ana took it and made her way back home, the weight of exhaustion settling across her shoulders. Her skates dangled from one hand.

  What awaited her there would be no better.

  The moment she stepped inside, she was met with her aunt’s irritated glare.

  "Finally!" Mrs. Karen crossed her arms. "I thought you were going to let your cousin go without a dress on the most important day of her life."

  Lily, seated on the couch with a cucumber face mask, let out a long sigh as she absentmindedly watched a fashion show.

  "Ugh, that took forever."

  Americ-Ana swallowed hard and handed the dress to her cousin.

  "Here it is."

  Lily took the dress as if it were a trophy and vanished upstairs. Mrs. Karen looked Americ-Ana up and down and let out a sigh.

  "Since you’re here, go make Mister Bacon’s dinner."

  Americ-Ana closed her eyes for a moment.

  "I just got back."

  "So what? Mister Bacon comes first in this house."

  Without another word, Americ-Ana walked into the kitchen and began preparing the pig’s meal, stirring the ingredients with too much force. The greasy smell of the food filled her nostrils, making her stomach growl. But none of it was for her.

  When she finished, she headed to her “room.”

  It wasn’t really a room. It was a former utility closet, a cramped, airless space barely big enough to fit a single bed. The shelves above still held cleaning supplies, and the only ventilation came from a small air grate high on the wall. There were no windows. No privacy.

  Meanwhile, upstairs, the rest of the house was settling in for the night.

  Lily, in her suite, sprawled across a king-size bed, ready for her “beauty sleep.”

  Mrs. Karen, in a bedroom as large as an apartment.

  Even Mister Bacon had a room of his own, a luxurious space with plush rugs and air-conditioning.

  Americ-Ana closed the door to the closet, squeezed into the narrow space where her bed fit, and stared at the ceiling. Her mind spun around one single thought.

  Marie Carter.

  The girl who now owned the QR Code. The girl who, just like that, had become the luckiest person in California.

  Americ-Ana reached for her phone. Opened the app store. And without thinking twice, typed into the search bar:

  “Novaxtraai.”

  Her finger hovered for a moment before tapping download. Was this her mistake all along? Never trying?

  So, without questioning it any further, she tapped the app icon.

  THE DOWNLOAD BEGAN.

  Americ-Ana received a food stipend at her second job, the beauty clinic, but out of necessity, she chose to convert it into cash. Lisa Soap, the manager, did so willingly.

  It wasn’t much, of course, and even when added to her end-of-month wages, it still didn’t allow for the luxury of buying expensive food. Sometimes, not even the basics. Most of the money, sometimes even all of it, had to go elsewhere. It went to her grandparents, who depended on her help.

  That’s why, in the middle of the night, when everyone else was asleep, Americ-Ana would rise in the dark, guided only by the glow of her phone screen.

  Her silent steps would take her to the kitchen, where she opened the fridge with care. In that house, food was divided in a peculiar way: of the hundred percent purchased by Mrs. Karen, only five percent was consumed by her and her daughter. The other ninety-five percent belonged to Mister Bacon.

  And Americ-Ana? She wasn’t part of that equation.

  So she made use of the night.

  No one would miss a turkey leg or a slice of banana pie with dulce de leche. Mrs. Karen was already used to the fact that Mister Bacon would waddle down the stairs, open the fridge, and devour whatever he could before the next meal. Everyone knew. No one questioned it.

  The next morning, only traces remained: the missing food and the mess Americ-Ana would have to clean up before the day began.

  But there was one risk: getting caught by Mister Bacon.

  If the pig noticed she was eating his food, he would throw a tantrum. He would squeal, chase her through the house, and try to bite her. It had already happened three times. Over time, Americ-Ana had learned to avoid his feeding hours.

  That night, in addition to keeping quiet and steering clear of Mister Bacon, her attention was split. While lighting her path with the reflection from her phone screen, she kept one eye on the progress bar. Her gaze shifted between her steps and the download percentage ticking upward.

  When the download finished, the “Download” button was replaced by “Open.”

  With automatic gestures, she opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of milk with her right hand, while her left tapped the screen.

  The cold light from the refrigerator and the bluish glow from the phone reflected across her face, revealing an expression of focused intensity.

  Why didn’t I think of downloading the app sooner? Americ-Ana scolded herself.

  If Marie Carter, a local girl, had been chosen, then maybe the algorithm had favored that region.

  Without hesitation, she tapped “TAP AGREE TO CONTINUE” without reading the contract, like any human would.

  Below the button, a bold message caught her eye:

  “Our app automatically detects people wearing white clothing. To increase your chances of being the lucky one, wear white. And for an even greater advantage, visit our online store and purchase white clothing now. Your future depends on your initiative.”

  Americ-Ana sighed. Her wardrobe consisted of three gray T-shirts, three pairs of jeans, and a hooded sweatshirt.

  “Guess I’ve already lost my chance in the wardrobe department”, she muttered, moving on to the app’s next screen.

  She swiped her finger across the phone. The moment she did, the front-facing camera activated, casting her reflection beneath the cold glow of the open fridge. But something was off. The image on the screen began to fragment, breaking into fluorescent emerald-green squares, as if being decoded by an invisible force.

  She frowned, curiosity stirred. The vibrant green lines began to reorganize slowly, like a viscous liquid spreading across the glass, reshaping itself with eerie precision.

  First, on the left side of her cheek, the lines fused, clearly outlining the silhouette of an albino owl. On the right, the process repeated, a white cat, its eyes deep and enigmatic, began to take form. The two figures glowed in sync, their shapes pulsing with growing intensity. Electric sparks emerged, converging toward the center of her forehead, between her eyes.

  That’s when the QR Code appeared, as if it were a key to some hidden truth. Americ-Ana couldn’t look away. The code’s glow pulsed with commanding force, and her heart raced as the screen began to vibrate. At first, the tremor was subtle, but it quickly escalated, as though the phone were about to explode in her hands. Startled, she lowered the milk bottle to the floor and gripped the device with both hands. The heat of the metal casing burned her fingers, and a chill ran down her spine, as if the device were charged with an unknown energy.

  Before she could react, the phone was wrenched from her grasp, as if it had a will of its own. The force of it threw her slightly off balance, and she staggered backward. At that exact moment, a surge of electricity sliced through the air, followed by the crack of thunder. Three beams of silvery-blue light shot out from the phone’s now-floating screen, striking the precise points where the images had just been projected: her left cheek, her right cheek, and the center of her forehead.

  The luminous explosion consumed the entire kitchen in shades of violet and orange.

  For a moment, Americ-Ana truly believed she had been transported to another dimension. The floor, the walls, and the ceiling dissolved, giving way to the star-strewn void of the Milky Way. Spiral galaxies spun around her. Shooting stars streaked across the expanse without pause, while a colossal hologram unfurled through the space, like lace being stitched in midair. The colors pulsed in unimaginable hues, creating a hypnotic spectacle where technology and art merged before her eyes.

  She lost her breath, her gaze locked onto the stellar vastness that, moments earlier, had been nothing more than a kitchen. She blinked repeatedly, trying to grasp whether what she was seeing was real, or merely an illusion conjured by the app.

  Then, suddenly, the phone fell to the floor. The impact echoed like a ripple through the cosmic silence.

  Americ-Ana stood frozen for several seconds, her mind unable to process the chain of events. Was she dead? Had the explosion been real? Had she just crossed into another plane of existence?

  Her heart pounded in her chest, breath hitching with uncertainty.

  Cautiously, Americ-Ana took a hesitant step toward the fallen device. She crouched slowly, as if any sudden movement might trigger another inexplicable phenomenon.

  She reached out with a trembling hand and touched the edge of the phone with the tip of her finger, testing whether it was still hot or electrically charged. Nothing.

  She picked it up carefully and turned the screen toward herself. The front-facing camera of the Novaxtraai app was still active.

  The reflection she saw on the screen made her stomach twist. Americ-Ana’s eyes widened, horror swelling in her expression as she brought the phone closer to her face.

  Her first thought was that the explosion had burned her skin. But there were no wounds, no scorch marks.

  There were… symbols. Tattoos.

  She tilted the screen, trying to get a better look at her reflection. On her left cheek, a QR Code, marked with the subtle image of an owl. On the right, an identical code, stamped with the figure of a cat. And in the center of her forehead, right between her eyes, the third QR Code shimmered as if embedded into her skin, this time, carrying a watermark of a triangle with an eye at its center.

  Americ-Ana scrubbed at the symbols with all the strength in her hands, as if hoping they’d vanish at her touch. They didn’t.

  She stood frozen, unable to decide what to process first. The world around her was no longer the kitchen from minutes ago, it had become something greater, something beyond human comprehension. The walls had dissolved into a vast cosmic ocean, where constellations pulsed like living organisms. The ground beneath her feet seemed not to exist, and yet she wasn’t falling.

  But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the shock of seeing her own reflection warped in a ghostly glow. The markings were there. Etched into her skin like divine seals. The QR Codes now belonged to her. Permanent. Part of her being.

  And then… something even stranger happened. The phone in her hand flickered. Not the screen, the phone itself. Two dark, gleaming points opened on its surface like eyes, locking onto her with unsettling intensity.

  A cold shiver raced down her spine. The world had already flipped upside down, but now, it felt like someone had thrown it all into a washing machine set to max spin.

  What do you do when your phone grows eyes and starts staring back at you? She screamed. Loudly. In a raw reflex of self-preservation, or maybe just pure desperation, Americ-Ana hurled the phone with all the force she could gather. The device flew through the air, ready to shatter against whatever invisible surface might exist in that bizarre, unraveling dimension.

  But it didn’t fall. It stopped. In midair. It floated, as if reality itself had forgotten the basic rules of physics. The eyes blinked faster now, frantic.

  And then, with a sharp, electric crack, the phone came apart. Or rather… it transformed. In place of the device, a lime-green cat now hovered in the air.

  Yes. Lime green. And with the same dark, intense eyes as before. Americ-Ana couldn’t even scream this time. She just stared, not blinking, not breathing, not able to form a single coherent thought.

  The cat, seemingly unbothered by the complete mental collapse of its new observer, calmly licked its paw and ran it over its head.

  For a moment, Americ-Ana was mesmerized by the scene. Just for a moment. Because seconds later, as if gravity suddenly remembered it had a job to do, the cat dropped.

  And it landed flat on its back, letting out a dramatic, drawn-out cry of “Owwwwwwwww!” — sounding thoroughly, and almost humanly, offended.

  Americ-Ana jumped back, eyes wide. That was it. It was official. The world had gone completely insane.

  She blinked. The cat was still there, now lying on its back on the floor, paws flailing in the air as it struggled, unsuccessfully, to get up.

  The awkward silence lasted about twelve seconds. Twelve long seconds in which Americ-Ana simply watched the cat’s futile struggle, until a flash of thought jolted through her mind: “Don’t cats always land on their feet?”

  The confusion deepened. What was stranger? A phone turning into a cat? The cat being lime green? The cat speaking? Or the fact that it didn’t know how to fall properly?

  The creature kept trying, grumbling softly as it rocked its body side to side, attempting to launch itself upright.

  Until Americ-Ana couldn’t help herself.

  "Do you… want me to help you?" she asked, hesitant, unsure whether it was more ridiculous to talk to a mutant cat, or to expect an actual answer from it.

  The creature stopped flailing and turned its head toward her, its dark eyes gleaming with a flicker of embarrassment.

  "Wait... ow... no need," it muttered.

  Americ-Ana opened her mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again.

  He speaks.

  He. Speaks.

  Before she could spiral into a full-blown meltdown, the cat gave one last push, and in the blink of an eye, stood upright on its hind legs.

  And then, his body began to change.

  As he balanced on two legs, the cat’s frame stretched unnaturally, as if being molded by invisible hands. His feline contours elongated slowly, taking on increasingly human proportions, until the animal form dissolved entirely, revealing the shape of a young man.

  What had once been short feline fur now transformed into a vibrant, tousled mane, still lime green, a leftover trace of the creature he had been. He wore a blazer with the Equal One Zero logo stitched on the chest, left open to reveal a slim, well-toned torso and sculpted abs beneath pale skin.

  What had once been a cat was now a boy, or at least something close to one. Americ-Ana blinked, her brain scrambling to process the sheer absurdity of what she had just witnessed.

  Then, as if nothing extraordinary had happened, he lifted his eyes, black as ink spilled across a blank page, absorbing everything around them, tilted his head to one side, cracked his neck with a soft pop, and with a theatrical flair, cleared his throat to speak.

  “Fac Foedus! Hello! Good afternoon, good evening or… I don’t know, good morning? Whatever time it is in this corner of existence!”

  He furrowed his brows, glanced upward as if trying to calculate something, then scratched his head with the look of someone who’d just forgotten their Wi-Fi password.

  “Eh, whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

  He snapped his fingers and pointed at her with over-the-top enthusiasm.

  “I’m here on behalf of the THE-IMPERIUM Bunker, and guess what?”

  He threw his arms wide open, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Congratulations!!! You’re the lucky one!!!”

  Before Americ-Ana could even ask what that meant, he shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out a handful of crushed confetti, tossing it toward her with clumsy excitement. The confetti didn’t exactly rain down in any kind of celebratory grace. In fact, some stuck to her forehead, a few dropped straight to the floor, and one stubborn piece got tangled in the boy’s own hair, which he didn’t seem to notice.

  Americ-Ana shrank back at her own reflection, blinking rapidly as she watched the young man beam with satisfaction, as if he’d just completed a flawless protocol.

  “What...?” she began, but he was already launching back into his speech.

  “On behalf of Novaxtraai, I wish you the best of luck in this new chapter of your life. And to help you on your way...”

  The boy opened his mouth and, with a disturbingly casual motion, pulled a gold ring from under his tongue. The ring bore the insignia of a dolphin. He held it between his fingers, frowned, and examined it closely, as if trying to remember why it was even there.

  “Oops! Not that one!”

  He looked at Americ-Ana and gave a goofy, awkward smile, then promptly shoved the ring back under his tongue.

  “If I go too long without it, the master gets... cranky.”

  Americ-Ana just blinked. He snapped his fingers, as if struck by sudden inspiration.

  “Oh! I know! It's in another place.”

  He opened his mouth again and, this time, carefully pulled out a small, antique leather clipboard, perfectly preserved, complete with a golden quill and a delicate inkwell snugly attached to its side.

  With the ease of someone who did this every day, he gently blew on the object, as if clearing imaginary dust, then adjusted a pair of invisible glasses he wasn’t actually wearing, and flipped the clipboard toward himself, flipping through a few pages with a focused expression.

  “All right! Let’s confirm the details. Full name...”

  He lifted his head and looked at Americ-Ana, clearly expecting an answer. She, however, was still trying to process how this guy had pulled a whole clipboard out of his mouth without choking to death.

  “Wait... just a second, sir... um... AI program?” Americ-Ana asked, squinting like she was trying to guess something even remotely plausible.

  The boy blinked a few times, then threw his head back and let out a laugh.

  “Oh no, no. I’m not an A.I., sorry,” he said, clearly amused by the idea that Americ-Ana thought he was some sort of artificial program.

  He cleared his throat and, assuming an overly solemn posture, declared:

  “My name is Seth Atticuz Noctturne — Seth for close friends, and Noctturne is my war name — Acting President of the Student Council of Equal One Zero Academy, and proud member of the Welcome Committee!”

  He puffed out his chest and gazed toward the horizon, as if showing off war medals on a uniform, clearly proud of both his name and titles.

  “And just to clarify, I’m not a program. I’m a Hybrid!” he went on, gesturing dramatically.

  “Grandson, on my father’s side, of a Shedim grandfather and a Human grandmother. And grandson, on my mother’s side, of a Lilin grandmother and a Human grandfather.”

  He paused theatrically, smiled, and added:

  “My parents are both Hybrids, so I’m a Hybrid-Hybrid. Or, in more technical terms, a Hybrid squared.”

  He let out a pleased little chuckle, as if that made perfect sense in the world.

  “Basically, I’ve got Shedim blood, Lilin blood, and of course... a generous dose of good old Human DNA.”

  Americ-Ana understood absolutely none of it. Her brain simply froze.

  Seth, blissfully ignoring the look of complete bewilderment on her face, went on:

  “Equal One Zero is the academic center of the Bunker THE-IMPERIUM. According to the data logged when you tapped the Novaxtraai button and agreed to the terms and conditions without reading anything, like any sane human would, you’re still of academic age. That means you’ll be attending the academy within THE-IMPERIUM, which is called Equal One Zero. And I’m here to welcome you on behalf of Bunker THE-IMPERIUM, on behalf of Novaxtraai, and most importantly, on behalf of Equal One Zero Academy, your new school.”

  Americ-Ana’s face was the living embodiment of a 404 Error: blank stare, lost eyes, her mind desperately trying to patch together some logical thread in that cascade of nonsense.

  And yet, for some reason she couldn’t quite explain, she kept the conversation going.

  “Okay, Mr... Seth Lilin of the Night-whatever…” she said, muddling up his name without even noticing.

  Seth frowned slightly but chose not to correct her.

  “I don’t know why you’re...—” Americ-Ana began, hoping he’d finish the sentence for her.

  But he looked genuinely confused.

  “What? I’m here because you were the lucky one who used the Novaxtraai app, found the white owl and white cat emojis, and consequently, the QR Code!”

  Seth waved his hands in the air, as if explaining the most obvious thing in the universe.

  “You’re now the newest citizen of the Bunker THE-IMPERIUM, and the newest member of the Equal One Zero Student Body!”

  Americ-Ana’s eyes widened.

  “No, no. Wait! This is a mistake!” She protested, finally regaining her voice to clarify the misunderstanding. “I’m not the one who was chosen! The winner’s already been announced. It’s someone else! Marie Carter! It was all over the news, on the internet, everywhere!”

  Silence hung in the air.

  Seth blinked once. Then again.

  “Wha…? What do you mean…?” He looked utterly shocked and disbelieving.

  Then, with theatrical despair, he collapsed to his knees.

  "I knew something was going to go wrong."

  Seth collapsed forward, catching himself on his hands.

  "I never wanted to be Interim President of the Student Council, much less a member of the Welcome Committee."

  Tears began streaming from his eyes, while a single strand of mucus slowly gathered at the tip of his nose.

  "I only accepted the position because my grades were a disaster..." he murmured between dramatic sobs.

  "This is it... I'm going to lose my credits... and my aunt is going to kill me..." he went on whimpering, rocking himself back and forth.

  Americ-Ana stood completely frozen.

  What are you supposed to do when a hybrid-hybrid is crying on his knees in front of you, snot dripping down his face?

  She looked around, as if hoping some kind of cosmic instruction manual would materialize and tell her how to handle the situation.

  "Listen, sir..." she began, feeling her way through the words, trying not to make things worse. "Why don’t you just go to Marie Carter’s house? She lives nearby! That way you can repeat everything you just said... minus the crying, of course."

  Seth slowly lifted his head, his eyes still glistening with tears, the drop of snot now hanging dangerously close to falling.

  "You promise you won’t tell anyone I was here, got the wrong address, and talked to the wrong person...?"

  He sniffled loudly, trying to pull himself together.

  "Because it must’ve been some bug in the app. I checked and double-checked the location."

  Seth stood up slowly, doing his best to regain his composure.

  "But if you’re saying they’ve already announced someone else, then I’ll just go back to the Department of Official Events and Ceremonies and come up with an excuse."

  "Yes, that’s right, do that, sir," Americ-Ana replied quickly, eager to get rid of him before he started crying again.

  "What’s your name again?"

  "Americ-Ana. Americ-Ana Delsilva."

  "Thank you, Americ-Ana."

  Seth smiled, offering a small bow with both hands pressed together. He wiped away his tears, sniffled once more, and squared his shoulders, trying to recover a shred of dignity.

  "Look, I’ll be going now. But not without properly compensating you for the misunderstanding!"

  He opened his mouth and, without the slightest warning, pulled out a large round cake from the top of his tongue.

  The cake had two tiers and was decorated with eleven lanterns on the first and ten on the second, with a decorative lighter perched at the top, as if to suggest the flames had been lit there.

  At the summit of the cake, a message written in golden frosting declared:

  "Who would’ve thought? Congratulations on the biggest opportunity of your life!"

  Seth pushed the cake toward Americ-Ana, still smiling.

  "Go on, eat it! It’s from the exclusive kitchens of Equal One Zero Academy, baked in the Palace of Crown Eden. All part of the bunker THE-IMPERIUM! We have the best chefs on the planet!"

  Americ-Ana took the cake reluctantly, forcing an awkward smile.

  "Thank you, sir... but I just ate and I’m not hungry. I’ll save it for later."

  "I should be the one thanking you, Miss Americ-Ana Delsilva!"

  Seth snapped his fingers, and in the blink of an eye, Americ-Ana was back in the kitchen.

  The room looked exactly the same as before. Silence hung thick in the air, broken only by the sound of the phone still floating, spinning slowly before crashing to the floor with a dull thud.

  Americ-Ana blinked several times, trying to figure out whether it had all been real or some breakdown her mind had decided to invent. That’s when she looked down at her hands. The cake was still there. Untouched.

  The lantern-shaped candles flickered softly, casting dancing shadows across the room. She took a deep breath and, cautiously, set the cake down on the counter.

  Americ-Ana turned toward the phone lying on the floor, hesitating.

  What if it still had eyes?

  What if it started floating again?

  What if...God forbid...it turned into another talking cat?

  Swallowing hard, she slowly reached out and touched the screen. The app was still open, but now displayed a huge, blinking message in bold, blood-red letters:

  ERROR.

  A chill ran up the back of Americ-Ana’s neck.

  What the hell had just happened?

  Had it all been a figment of her imagination? Or had it really occurred?

  She wanted to believe it had been a dream. But then, she looked back at the counter. The cake was still there. Perfect. And pulled from the mouth of a being who was half human and half... something else.

  Americ-Ana squinted and shook her head. She was definitely not going to eat that.

  It was at that moment she heard quick footsteps rushing down the stairs from the upper floor.

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  The sound grew louder, closer.

  Americ-Ana held her breath.

  And then, Mister Bacon appeared at the kitchen doorway.

  Her relief lasted exactly two seconds. The pig stared at her, then glanced at the open fridge. Looked back at her. And without warning, he charged at her with terrifying speed.

  “What—?!”

  Without thinking, without hesitating, without reasoning... Americ-Ana grabbed the cake and THREW it at the pig's face. The impact was direct. Mister Bacon stopped mid-charge.

  The frosting dripped slowly down his snout, while pieces of sugary lanterns slid across the floor.

  And then, Americ-Ana bolted toward her room, rushed inside, and slammed the door behind her. She pressed her back against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

  Her heart still hammered against her ribs as she collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

  Nothing made sense. Her mind spun in circles, trying to bring logic to something utterly illogical.

  But surrounded by these chaotic thoughts... exhaustion won. Sleep came like an inevitable shadow.

  And finally, Americ-Ana passed out.