“Training?” Mioray repeated after Erinel, not grasping what she meant. “What do you mean – training?”

  Everyone was gathered in Erinel’s room, which was essentially several storage rooms connected into one. It was... different from the others. If Mioray didn’t know better, he would have assumed he had stumbled into a botanical garden.

  The floor was overgrown with grass and flowers. He could recognize buttercups, violets, marigolds, lilies, and irises, all raising their buds and petals toward the light. Not the actual sun – it was night, and they were inside a building – but a lamp shaped like one, hanging from the ceiling.

  That wasn’t all. Unbelievably, butterflies were fluttering calmly in the air. The walls were painted blue to resemble the sky, and outlines of trees had been added, creating the illusion of an endless artificial meadow. No, that wasn’t quite right. This wouldn’t fool anyone. But what truly defied logic was the actual tree growing in the middle of the room. A teak tree, slender and grayish, with lush foliage. How had Erinel even gotten it here, let alone managed to keep it thriving? Was she some kind of mage? Or was this something greanrips could do too?

  Even a squirrel sat on one of the branches, intently gnawing on an acorn. A squirrel.

  “You’ve gained a unique ability. It would be a waste not to develop it, don’t you think?” Erinel replied, her gaze fixed on the squirrel, watching as its reddish-brown fur glowed under the artificial sun. “It will come in handy if you get used to it and learn to control it.”

  “Why would I need it?” Mioray asked, without thinking.

  As far as he was concerned, their main task was guiding the souls of the dead to the afterlife, which didn’t seem particularly dangerous. He figured communication skills would be far more practical. After all, they had to gain souls’ trust, convince them to let go of their regrets, and move on. None of that required physical strength.

  And yet, considering everything that happened, learning to defend himself was probably essential.

  “For the love of—” Farah grumbled in annoyance, pulling her black puffer coat tighter around herself. “I don’t need to be here. If there’s nothing else, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She stepped away from the meadow’s clearing, but Erinel didn’t seem to mind.

  What’s her problem? Mioray wondered. Well, apart from her holding a grudge because he had accidentally walked in on her naked. Come to think of it, Terry had never mentioned what nickname he had given Farah. Maybe knowing it would help Mioray understand the circumstances of her death. Asking her directly wouldn’t get him anywhere. She’d just get angry at him for no reason. In that sense, she and Kevin were alike. Mioray felt uneasy around them, hesitant to talk to them. Just a little bit.

  Despite questioning the need for training, Mioray understood its importance. Another attack like the one on the university couldn’t happen. He couldn't afford to be helpless again, to end up a barely functioning corpse. He had to stand his ground, protect innocent bystanders, and fight against the Impact Corpse. He couldn’t do any of those things if all he was good for was launching his arm and rendering himself useless.

  His confusion stemmed from the context in which Erinel brought up training. When he and Terry returned, Matt had been telling the group about his encounter with a dead soul and his suspicion that a Soul Collective appeared. At the mention of it, everyone exchanged troubled looks. Even Erinel grew thoughtful, resting her hand on the pointed chin of her heart-shaped face, considering something for a few moments. Then, she told them they would deal with it tomorrow, and for that, everyone needed to participate.

  “If it’s that important, why wait until tomorrow?” Mioray asked, eager to prove his dedication, despite not fully understanding what they were talking about.

  Erinel tilted her head slightly, the way a mother might when her child said something naive to impress her.

  “Even if you don’t get tired, that doesn’t mean I don’t,” she answered with a slight reproach. That was when she noticed the squirrel on the tree, and Mioray, following her gaze, noticed it too. “And just because you don’t feel tired, that doesn’t mean your soul can’t grow weary. Seeing the other side of the living world takes energy. Opening the door to the realm between realms takes energy. At the end of the day, it has to be replenished. If it isn’t, your soul will become too weak to control your body, and you’ll drop dead until you’ve gathered enough soul energy to take control again.”

  She touched Mioray’s arm where the stitches had once been, where his limb had detached with those mysterious black threads. Mioray held his breath, burning the sensation into his memory.

  “Besides, I want you to start training so you’ll be prepared for what’s to come.”

  And that had led them to the present moment.

  After some discussion, it was decided – to Mioray’s dismay – that Matt, a ten-year-old, would be responsible for his training. They left Erinel in her meadow and made their way to Matt’s room. Mia and Terry decided to tag along to spectate. Farah had already left earlier, while Kevin had excused himself to take care of other matters.

  Unlike the other rooms Mioray had seen, Matt’s actually looked like a normal kid’s bedroom. A white desk sat against the wall, stacked with notebooks and textbooks, accompanied by an adjustable chair. A small TV was mounted on the wall with a game console connected to it. Opposite the desk was a bed covered with a sheet patterned with cars, next to a blue dresser. The bed itself was kind of useless, but it added a touch of familiarity and coziness.

  Erinel, on the other hand, probably needed a bed if she required rest. Yet, Mioray didn’t see anything resembling one in her space.

  “I wonder where Erinel sleeps,” he murmured, glancing at Matt’s bed.

  “Wow, Mioray,” Terry whistled, clapping him on the shoulder. “I see you’re serious about her.”

  Matt and Mia exchanged confused glances. Mioray blushed. Why would Terry make a comment like that? Nobody needed to know about Mioray’s promise to take Erinel to the movies. It wasn’t that important, really. She hadn’t even mentioned it when he’d gotten back. He doubted she even remembered they had talked about it.

  “Don’t twist what I’m saying,” Mioray hastened to save face. “I’m just wondering, that’s all. You know, with her not being human and all. She mentioned getting tired, but not whether she needs sleep. Does she eat anything?”

  Mia tapped the side of her head with a questioning look.

  “I think so. I saw it once,” Matt translated the gesture and a few more.

  “See? Aren’t you guys curious about her?” Mioray continued, seizing the opportunity. “You’ve been together for what, seven to nine months? How much do you actually know about her? Also, Matt, you know sign language?”

  “I’m learning,” the boy fluttered his fingers, tapping his chest with his thumb, to which Mia chuckled silently. “Farah and I are taking courses so we can communicate with Mia freely. You can join us too, if you want, Mioray.”

  “Sure, I don’t mind,” Mioray shrugged. So that’s why Farah understood sign language. She didn’t strike him as a considerate person, but maybe that was just in relation to him?

  “But in general, you can hear us, right, Mia? Sorry for asking.”

  She tapped twice on her torso with her thumb, then bent her fist at the wrist twice. “It’s okay. Yes.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing a hearing aid.

  “Oh, cool. That’s good to know. Thanks.”

  Mia showed him how to sign “thanks.” Mioray repeated the motion: a flat hand touching the chin, then moving away from it.

  “I was wondering, what’s with this place?” Mioray asked. “How can you afford it, and all the furniture?”

  Terry smiled contentedly, placing his hands on his hips.

  “Well, remember when I was a famous racer?” He winked. “After things happened and I died, I was left with quite a fortune. There was no one to inherit it, and Kevin, being an ace lawyer and all, did some law magic so I could keep it. I used to rent a room here to work on my car, but now we’ve rented the whole floor under a fake name. If you need anything, anything at all, don’t be shy. Just tell me, and we’ll go buy it together. I’m always here to help!”

  Mioray could see how satisfied Terry was with himself. His eyes sparkled – any second now, they might turn into literal stars, just like he once was. He loved being needed; that much was obvious.

  “Yeah, okay, I got it,” Mioray said. “But what’s with Erinel’s room? Is that your money’s work too?”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Nope, that she did herself,” Terry said, rubbing his chin. “Somehow.”

  “But isn’t it awesome?” Matt clung to Mioray’s side. “Miss Erinel is like a fairy. From a fairytale!”

  Terry leaned in closer to Mioray.

  “Be careful, funny guy,” he whispered. “Looks like you’ve got some competition.”

  Ah, how much Mioray wanted to punch him right now! He clenched his only hand into a fist, but Terry was already on the other side of the room, flopping onto Matt’s bed. He was too big for it, so his legs dangled over the edge. That’s when Mioray noticed the holes in Terry’s shoes, around the heels.

  Is that for wheels to be attached? Mioray thought.

  Terry grinned slyly and nodded, confirming Mioray’s suspicion.

  “Mia asked you both to stop acting like kids,” Matt giggled. Mioray turned to her; she sat on the chair by the desk with her arms crossed, lips slightly pursed. He nodded apologetically.

  “We’re here to learn how to use your ability,” Matt reminded him.

  “Yeah, Mioray, don’t get distracted now,” Terry agreed, lounging on his side with one arm propping up his head.

  This training session was bound to be painfully embarrassing, wasn’t it? Well, maybe Mioray could learn a bit more about Matt and Mia while he was at it.

  But he didn’t get the chance. Matt got too invested in the role of teacher, giving Mioray no time to breathe. He demanded full concentration on the task. Yet, for the first hour or so, Mioray just looked stupid throwing his arm forward, intending to detach and launch it.

  As it turned out, nobody could really teach him how to use his ability. It was unique to him, just like how nobody except Matt could produce that amber-like slime from his palms.

  “What if we try it this way?” Matt said, coating Mioray’s feet in a layer of his translucent, sticky slime.

  “What will this change?”

  “Well,” Matt admitted, scratching his eyebrow, “I’ve glued you to the floor, and only I can dissolve my slime. I’m going to stand just barely out of reach, and you’ll have to touch me. If you can’t, we’ll leave you stuck here while we handle the Soul Collective ourselves.”

  Another hour passed. No matter how hard he tried, Mioray couldn’t do it. A few times, he thought his arm extended, but it was just wishful thinking. Or maybe he had strained his muscles too much. It was hard to tell, with no pain to warn him of injuries, visible or hidden.

  “What is this Soul Collective?” he asked at some point, struggling to catch his breath. It was strange. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to overwork his body. He still felt light, as if he weren’t tired at all, but moving was getting harder. This must be what Erinel meant. His soul energy was draining, weakening his control over his body.

  “It’s when souls merge,” Matt explained. “Terry gave it the name.”

  Mioray glanced at the racer, still sprawled on Matt’s bed, flipping through a comic book. Of course he’s the one who named it.

  “What do you mean, souls merge?” Mioray asked.

  Matt hesitated, struggling for the right words, but Mia came to his rescue. Up until now, she had been sitting at the desk, hunched over uncomfortably, drawing.

  “It happens when souls wander in the living world for too long,” she explained through Matt’s voice. “They start losing their sense of self, becoming less like people and more like raw, chaotic essence. In this fragile state, they begin consuming nearby souls, merging into a single entity with its own mind. The more souls involved, the more powerful and dangerous the Soul Collective becomes. You know those stories about poltergeists? You could say they’re based on this phenomenon. It’s rare, but it happens once in a while.”

  Mioray sighed. Another deadly presence added to the equation. Why had nobody told him about this from the beginning?

  "While I was out looking for a soul to guide to the afterlife, I met the soul of a girl," Matt continued, now speaking for himself. "She told me about a scary creature lurking nearby, and she could feel it calling for her. That’s how I knew it was a Soul Collective. I can’t handle it alone, so I came back here and told everyone. Can you imagine? A Soul Collective can influence objects in the real world! But it has its pros, too. We can actually interact with it, unlike regular souls of the dead, which means we can force it into the realm between realms!"

  Yeah, that sounded more promising. For a minute there, Mioray thought this Soul Collective was going to be like an Impact Corpse, an undead being impossible to apprehend. But it had a weak spot, after all: the portal to the realm between realms.

  That got him thinking. What happens to a soul when it enters the portal? Andrew claimed he had seen a light there. But what about a Soul Collective, a being made up of merged souls with a mind of its own? Could it find peace there?

  "What do you think is in the realm between realms?" Mioray asked Matt and Mia. He already knew what Terry would say.

  "Isn’t it obvious?" Matt raised an eyebrow. "It’s the entrance to heaven or hell. Didn’t you learn that when you were a kid?"

  Mioray decided not to comment. He wasn’t surprised Matt believed in that concept. Mia, on the other hand, went with another belief. Instead of signing for Matt to translate, she wrote her answer on paper. According to her, she leaned more toward the philosophy of reincarnation – if she had to choose one at all.

  After that, Matt pushed Mioray to continue training. At some point, Mia left, which demotivated Mioray a little. He had nothing to show for his efforts.

  Was he even close to doing anything with his death-given ability? He’d lost count of how many times he had tried to reach Matt. The boy stood so close, even nudging Mioray on purpose. It was frustrating. Mioray tried to use his whole body to help himself, even his legs, but that bore no fruit, considering they were glued to the floor. More like cemented.

  What was different now compared to the time at the university? His arm had detached unexpectedly, without him even thinking about it. It wasn’t supposed to be difficult! Kevin and Matt, for example, used their abilities effortlessly. He was sure the same went for Terry, Mia, and Farah. Even Impact Corpse. Watching that towering man detonate his limbs was like watching someone swat a mosquito.

  Frustration turned to anger. In his current state, Mioray was useless. A burden. If he engaged Impact Corpse now, he wouldn’t be able to protect anyone.

  He wouldn’t be able to protect his friends!

  He fell, pulling Matt down with him.

  His first thought was that Matt’s slime wasn’t as strong as he had made it out to be. He helped Matt back onto his feet and tried to do the same, only to realize he couldn’t.

  His feet were still in place, glued to the floor. But they were no longer attached to his body. It was as if they had been cut off just below the knees, with black threads sticking out from both his detached legs and the rest of his body. Instead of detaching his arm, Mioray had detached both of his legs.

  So… that worked too, after all. He could detach other parts of his body, not only the arm.

  "Hurray, you actually did it!" Terry, who had either been reading comic books or just pretending to, threw the book on the bed and jumped over to Mioray.

  He and Matt squatted beside him, studying the black threads with barely contained excitement. They were thrilled that Mioray had finally achieved something. It was like watching a baby take its first steps. And after taking their first steps, babies inevitably fall. Mioray had fallen too.

  "There’s no blood," a voice declared thoughtfully. Kevin.

  Wait. Where did he come from?! Mioray had been so focused that he hadn’t even noticed him enter Matt’s room. Kevin knelt down, taking hold of the black threads and bringing them closer to his face. He was studying them, almost like a researcher examining a specimen. Mioray felt kind of violated.

  This must be how ancient remains felt when archaeologists poked around in them.

  “Interesting.” Kevin continued examining the black threads, completely disregarding Mioray’s personal space. Matt and Terry focused on the lawyer, waiting for his conclusion. They even seemed to be mimicking his behavior.

  “Indeed, it looks like a kind of symbiosis between sutures and veins,” Kevin mused. “This is definitely part of your ability, which means it should be under your control. I wonder if these threads are still connected to your body enough for you to move your detached legs. Can you try? Matt, release him.”

  Maybe it was Kevin’s influence – Mioray figured he was second in command after Erinel – or maybe it was just the fact that he was an adult, but Matt complied without hesitation. He touched the sticky slime covering Mioray’s feet, and it was abruptly absorbed back into his palms.

  Not that it made a difference.

  No matter how hard Mioray tried to move his feet, they wouldn’t respond. Back at the university, he had still been able to wiggle the fingers of his detached arm, but now? Nothing.

  Kevin didn’t have much patience to wait for a breakthrough. With a sigh of disappointment, he grabbed Mioray’s legs and reattached them one by one. They fused instantly, as if they had just been waiting for the chance to do so. Within seconds, there was no sign they had ever been detached.

  “As I thought,” Kevin muttered, standing up. “Continue with your training.”

  Without explaining anything further, the lawyer left. Mioray rolled his eyes. Well, that was helpful. If Kevin had at least shared his theory, it might have made things easier to figure out. Fortunately, Terry, who helped Mioray back onto his feet, was far more willing to talk.

  “Remember when I said we did some experiments on our own?” Terry asked.

  Mioray nodded.

  “There’s plenty of time for everything after you die,” Terry continued. “So far, we’ve figured that a cleanly cut-off limb takes a few hours to reattach. But your legs just did it in seconds.”

  Mioray barely stopped himself from asking for more details. They had cut off their own body parts voluntarily just to see how long it would take to reattach them? Whose idea was that? And more importantly, who was the guinea pig?

  “What happened here must be something different,” Terry went on, oblivious to Mioray’s concerns. “When you got wrecked by Impact Corpse, it took you two weeks to fully regenerate. But right now, your legs just merged back together, like they weren’t really severed in the usual sense. I guess that’s why Kevin thinks you can control your detached body parts, at least while they’re still connected by those threads.”

  How reassuring.

  It was amazing how knowledgeable they all were about something they couldn’t even experience firsthand. Mioray flexed the fingers on his feet. To his relief, they moved as they should. Well, whatever he thought, he had to give those guys credit. They’d all been dead long before him. It made sense that they knew more.

  So his limbs could be detached. And he could reattach them, provided he still had them nearby. Mioray absently touched the stump where his left arm had once been. His confidence was growing. That arm was still out there somewhere. The fact that it hadn’t returned could be explained by the Dismantler’s MO. None of his victims’ left arms had ever been found. He must be collecting them. Which meant he had Mioray’s arm, too.

  Mioray wondered what the Dismantler’s reaction had been when he realized his latest victim’s left arm wasn’t decaying, even after a month of being severed. If he were a normal human, he’d be horrified. Normal, in the sense that he wasn’t aware of the dead coming back to life. In every other way, though, he was a deranged bastard.

  But if he were Impact Corpse… Well. That would be a clear sign for him that Mioray was undead.

  Which reminded him. He hadn’t told Erinel about the possibility that the Dismantler and Impact Corpse were the same person. He should do that the next time he sees her.

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