As the elevator ascended, Joan felt like her heart might leap out of her chest. She'd been nervous before—like the time she was tricked into an upgrade or when she jumped into a seemingly endless hole—but never like this.

She kept glancing between Erik and the changing numbers on the display. Her mind started to feel fuzzy, almost staticky, like a glitching hologram.

What's going on with me? Joan thought, blinking a few times and rubbing her temples.

"Hey, you're going to be fine," Erik said, gently placing a hand on her back. "Ivar is scary, sure—I won't sugarcoat it. But he's just another person. You've got this."

Joan swallowed, her throat dry, almost choking on nothing. Then it happened—a flicker. Erik's face shifted between the handsome version she knew and... a somewhat less attractive one.

She rubbed her eyes, as though clearing away dust, and blinked again. Erik's face returned to normal.

He looked at her quizzically, but Joan gave an awkward grin. What the hell was that? she thought.

The elevator let out a loud BING, the kind you'd hear in an old movie. The doors slid open, revealing a penthouse—a chaotic yet spacious one.

It reminded Joan of Robin's flat back home, though this place had a far cozier vibe. A pang tugged at her heart. She already missed home. She couldn't even remember how long it had been since she last saw Robin—or how long it had been since she'd been home at all. It felt like an eternity.

The penthouse was cluttered with stacks of books and magazines, chalkboards, old flat-screen TVs, vintage game consoles, and a couch buried under piles of clothes. It looked like a mad scientist lived here.

Then, as they stepped inside, Joan's vision flickered again. For a moment, the cozy penthouse transformed into a stark, minimalist billionaire's lair. The flashes unsettled her.

She darted a glance at Erik, but he showed no reaction. Acting as if nothing was amiss, he led her toward a door partially obscured by the mess.

"We're coming in!" Erik shouted, pushing the door open.

Joan hesitated, frozen by nerves, until she saw who was inside.

A man sat crouched in a chair, his feet up, completely engrossed in whatever he was typing. Joan struggled to maneuver through the clutter of trash, books, and dirty dishes littering the floor.

Her eyes widened when she realized what he was typing on: an actual physical keyboard.

In awe, she lingered. She'd never seen a real keyboard before. Ever since Helix had introduced holographic keyboards, physical ones had become obsolete. They were expensive to produce, and companies stopped making them ages ago.

Then another flash came. The man, whom she assumed was Ivar, flickered between two forms: one, a blonde and blue-eyed figure—eerily familiar as the man who had coerced her into the upgrade—and the other, a dark, ruggedly handsome version with unkempt hair. The rapid transitions made Joan's heart race and her palms sweat.

Her stomach churned as the flickers intensified, but a voice snapped her out of it.

"Joan!"

She turned to see Erik, relief flooding her as her heart rate slowed. The flickers stopped.

"Joan, meet Ivar. Ivar, this is Joan—the one I've been telling you about."

Joan studied the man again, frowning slightly. This is Ivar? He looked nothing like the blonde who'd forced her upgrade. But Erik seemed certain, so she held her tongue.

Ivar didn't rise from his chair. Instead, he glanced at them both and said curtly, "You can leave, Erik."

"Oh, but Joan doesn't—"

"You can leave." Ivar's voice was deep, commanding.

Erik hesitated. "But she doesn't—"

"I said leave. I'll take it from here."

Dumbfounded, Erik muttered something under his breath before leaving. But not before messaging Joan privately.

As Ivar turned back to his screen, Joan opened the hologram discreetly to read Erik's message: Let me know if you need help.

The private note unsettled her further. Who *was* this man? And why did he look so different from the one she remembered?

Ivar turned briefly, catching Joan in the act, but quickly returned to his typing.

"So, Joan, what's your deal?" he asked, his fingers never stopping.

"My deal?" she replied, thrown off by the phrasing.

Erik had made Ivar sound like some kind of psychopath, yet he seemed... normal. Joan wasn't sure how to act.

"Yeah, your deal," Ivar persisted. "What upgrades do you have? What can you do besides Dagger, Hooper, and Vigor? How many upgrades are you running, and which are you best at?"

*Shouldn't he already know?* Joan thought bitterly. *He's the one who made me get the upgrade. Is he screwing with me?*

She swallowed her irritation and said confidently, "I don't have a deal. I don't know how many upgrades I have. I just started using the ones you mentioned."

Admitting it made her feel insignificant, even though she knew her upgrades were rare enough to make her a target.

"And how do you even know I have Dagger and Vigor?" she added, her grumpiness surfacing.

Ivar chuckled, swiveling his chair to face her. "Because I know everything that happens here. I also know you broke a cement wall using Dagger, which you now owe me for. You're going to be a pain in the ass."

Joan scrunched her nose. "What the hell is *that* supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what it means." Ivar stood, brushing past her to open the door. "Follow me."

As he passed, she caught the faint scent of ink and coffee.

"Hey, where are you going?" Joan called.

He was already out the door. Without stopping, he gestured for her to follow. "To the veranda. Come on."

With no choice, Joan hurried after him, her annoyance simmering. Why am I always chasing after people?

They passed through the cluttered penthouse. The flashes had mercifully stopped.

When they stepped onto the veranda, Joan's breath caught. The walls, floor, and ceiling shimmered with waves of color, moving like a living rainbow.

"Helix, activate Island Mode," Ivar commanded.

The door behind Joan slammed shut as Helix responded: Island Mode activated.

The waves of color transformed into sand, sky, and sea.

"Are we at a... beach?" Joan stammered, feeling the grit of sand beneath her boots and the salty breeze in her hair. She heard waves crashing against an invisible shore.

Ivar spread his arms wide, gesturing to the transformed room. "This is how we use Helix in the G-Can. Now, show me what you've got."

His eyes locked on hers, commanding and unyielding.

"I told you already, I don't have a deal," Joan snapped. "What I managed to do on the way down was a fluke. I can't just make it happen on command."

Ivar nodded, but the impatient set of his jaw betrayed his understanding. "See, I get that. But I don't have the luxury of understanding, okay? We're on the clock here, and I don't have many people who can handle the amount of upgrades you've taken on."

Joan stepped back on the sandy beach, her boots sinking slightly into the warm grains. Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of her face as the air around her seemed to grow hotter, like a real beach under a relentless sun.

"Helix, activate the Predator upgrade," Ivar commanded, his voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere.

Predator upgrade activated.

In an instant, Ivar began to transform. His dark hair lengthened, and thick fur spread across his body. His nails grew long, curved, and black—more like claws now—and his canine teeth sharpened into fangs that glinted under the simulated light. A guttural growl rose from his chest, deep and primal, sending chills down Joan's spine.

"Shit, shit, shit! What the fuck," Joan stammered, stumbling backward with her hands raised defensively. "We can talk about this! I can figure out my 'deal' if you just give me some time to train or whatever. Isn't that what Erik said? That I'd train with you?"

Ivar's growling didn't stop. His golden, lupine eyes locked onto Joan, and for a fleeting moment, she knew reasoning was futile.

"I don't know what Erik told you," Ivar snarled, his voice distorted by his transformation, "but I don't work for him. I decide what happens here, and I need your upgrades working now—before this place goes to hell."

"What are you talking abou—"

Before she could finish, Ivar lunged. His claws extended further as he launched himself toward Joan with lightning speed.