Feeling the cool stonework of the device's base against the back of her head, Six barely even registered as Harry sat beside her, letting out a sigh of relief as he did so. After everything they went through in the Lighthouse, both of them were more than a little ready for some R&R.

  They sat in silence for a while, simply gazing out at the art room, taking in the not so artful pieces on display. They didn't feel the need to speak, at least not at the moment, taking their time to enjoy the silence. Both knew it wouldn't be long before they would be forced to continue on.

  Six felt herself unconsciously lean closer to her companion, pressing her body against his and resting her head on his shoulder. She admitted to being a tad warm after all that running, not to mention she was still wearing Harry's jacket, but for some reason the added heat from his body felt rather pleasant.

  Somewhat surprised by this, Harry didn't say anything, merely grasping her hand in his. They stayed that way for a long while, at least until the screaming of their bodies died down to a whimper. It took longer to recuperate than Six would have liked, but she couldn't really complain. It felt good to just sit there and do nothing.

  But after an hour or so, she felt sufficiently recovered and as ready as she could be to see where the next rung of their journey would take them. Sneaking a glance at Harry, she noticed the tiredness in his eyes, more pronounced than before. Not that she could blame him, feeling the weariness in her own bones as well. She only hoped her eyes didn't look as baggy as his own.

  Giving him a little nudge, jostling him out of whatever daydream he was having, she gestured to the machine behind them when he gave her a curious look. Following along with her gesture, he gave a small sigh, knowing what she meant. So, with some reluctance, he nodded, and the two stood up, stretching the stiffness from their bodies.

  "How's your ankle?" she asked, watching him go about it. He didn't seem to be in copious amounts of pain any longer, but he could just be hiding it. She would rather know just how much pain he was truly in and not words of simple bravery.

  If he pretended to be better than he was, that could lead to some problems down the road. Thinking he was fine and capable of running or jumping when he wasn't and needed to would only lead to his death.

  Harry placed some pressure on his bad foot, feeling a slight twinge. It wasn't anywhere near as bad as before, but he couldn't say he was 100% either.

  "Better. It doesn't hurt as much, at least," he said after taking a few steps. He had a slight limp but nothing overly pronounced. If he was faking, he was doing a pretty good job of it.

  "Are you sure?" she asked, wanting clarification. Harry nodded, giving her a confident smirk.

  "I've always healed fast. Cuts, bruises, broken bones… usually they're pretty much healed after a good night's rest," he informed her. His words shocked her, though perhaps they shouldn't have. She should be used to the weirdness he brings to the table.

  "More magic stuff?" she asked, getting a shrug in return.

  "Probably. I don't know anyone else who heals as fast as me. Except for some comic book characters I guess."

  His words caused her some amusement, imagining him wearing tights and a cape. However, she supposed he was heroic enough for it. He certainly had the self sacrificing part of the job down.

  "If you say so, Mr. Hero. Then let's get this thing up and running," she suggested, getting a nod from him. They didn't have much to do, considering Six already had the light pointing at the mirror above. All she needed to do was slip the disk into the slot and change its color.

  Jumping up onto the base, Six walked around until she was where she needed to be. Taking out the glass lens from her pocket, she carefully leaned over and placed it inside. Once it was secure, the effect took hold immediately.

  The plain white light lit up a bright, icy blue. Six took a step back, watching as the now blue light hit the mirror, reflecting onto the gem in the angel's forehead. The angel's eye opened wide, her mouth doing the same. It looked like she had seen a ghost.

  Something Six wouldn't put past existing in this place.

  Two lights shot out from the angel's eyes, both blue, striking the large painting hanging from the wall. Like before, it took it a minute until the picture started to come in. But once it did, the two got a look at the next place they would be exploring.

  The bottom of the painting was covered in fluffy white clouds. Six was surprised by how normal they looked. She expected to see faces screaming in them or even eyes, but they were just regular, everyday clouds.

  For some reason, that set her even more on edge.

  Moving up, she could see a large, round structure with a telescope sticking out from the side pointing up. The building itself was a darker white, distinguishing it from the clouds, and seemed to be in a state of disrepair. Large holes covered the roof and cracks ran along the sides.

  Above that was the clear night sky with millions upon millions of twinkling stars. The sky was also lit up in a multitude of colors, such as blue, green, purple, and red, creating a feast for the eyes.

  "An observatory…" she muttered. It was a far better looking place than the Lighthouse, even with its rundown appearance. At least there didn't seem to be a storm they needed to worry about.

  "Looks like it. But… I mean, it's pretty and all, but it makes me feel uneasy," Harry said. All things considered, he should have been glad the place they were going didn't appear to be a death trap, but the memory of his dream, the one of the garden and the Pretender, reminded him that beauty was just a lure in this world. A deception to ensnare the unaware and consume them, mind, body and soul.

  "Me too. But we don't have much choice if we want to proceed," Six said. That might have been the worst part of this place. Staring at an obvious trap, knowing that danger lurked behind the glamor, but needing to head straight first into it regardless.

  Letting fear stop you from doing what needed to be done would only invite ruin. She had seen some kids, though only a few, too afraid to move on, content to lay there and die rather than face their fear. Six hated them. Even more, she hated knowing that same weakness lingered within her as well.

  It lingered within all humans. The sovereignty of fear was not an easy dynasty to topple.

  "I know. I'm only saying we should be on our guard," Harry replied.

  "That goes without saying," Six returned. She was always on her guard. To let it down would lead to her death. And yet, she had found herself dropping it, even if only for a short while when in her friend's presence.

  It was a bad habit she was developing.

  "Right. So, I guess one of us should pop our heads in and take a look around," Harry said. Six nodded, jumping down to the ground with Harry's help. It was unnecessary, but appreciated.

  The pair made their way towards the deceptively beautiful and captivating painting. She wondered if maybe its appearance gave a clue to what they would face inside.

  Taking the other painting into consideration, a lighthouse having someone to care for it made sense. Then there was the storm outside, chaotic and violent. It reminded her of the bugs appearing out of nowhere, a swarm set to consume all in its path. That fit the definition of chaotic and violet, almost to a T.

  So, what could they expect from the Observatory she wondered. It likely had a Resident there as well overseeing it, but what could it be? What form would it take? If this was a normal world, who would be working there? A scientist? An astronaut? An alien?

  That last one seemed redundant as all Residents looked like aliens.

  There was little way of truly knowing she supposed. She had never been to a place like that in the real world, so she didn't know what to expect, and throwing out simple space themed jobs didn't seem like a good way to figure out what lie in store for them either. They would just have to go and see for themselves.

  Once they reached the painting, Six opted to be the one to look inside, seeing as she was uninjured. Placing her head inside, feeling some trepidation as she did so, Six felt the familiar feeling of being covered in cold syrup before her head poked out of the other side.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  What she found was herself in a long, straight hallway. The floor was white and shaped into squares. Although, saying they were white was being extremely generous. Most of them were closer to yellow with stains of who knows what covering them. Harry probably wasn't going to like that.

  The walls were cracked in several places with a single large hole on the left side. Unlike in the Nest, there was no wallpaper covering the walls. Plaster and rubble littered the floor, having broken off from the walls, resting there undisturbed for who knows how long.

  The ceiling contained recessed lighting that surprisingly still worked. A few of them were busted, creating spots of darkness here and there. Though it made the hallway creepier than it needed to be, it wouldn't prevent them from seeing, which was more important.

  Case and point, it allowed her to see the few doors scattered along the walls and one at the far end of the hall. But unlike the normal doors she's come to expect, these ones were painted with numerous eyes. It was almost like they were trying to replicate the night sky in some horrible, twisted manner.

  Lastly, the air smelled and tasted stagnant, musty. Like it hadn't been aired out in a good long while. But that didn't make sense when she thought of the giant holes in the roof.

  All in all, it wasn't the worst she had seen. Far from it in fact. And more importantly than the aesthetics was the fact that there didn't seem to be any immediate danger. So, having surveyed all that she needed to, Six pulled back her head, being met with one Harry Potter, doing his best to hide how anxious he felt.

  "So? What did you see?" he asked.

  "Well… the floors are dirty," she said, doing her best not to snicker at his expression.

  "Of course they are. Why wouldn't they be? Anything else?" he questioned. Six explained what she saw, Harry listening with rapt attention. Once she was done, the two stood in silence for some time, dissecting the information.

  There wasn't much to go on, honestly. The place was in disrepair, that was clear from the painting, but now at least they had confirmation about that. It could mean that parts of the building would be unstable, but that was pretty normal here as well. Beyond that, nothing.

  "I guess that means it's time to go in," he said. Six nodded. With that, the pair placed their hands on the painting, allowing the mysterious object to suck them into parts unknown.

  They came out the other end and Harry immediately frowned at seeing the floor he was forced to walk on. Why did everything have to look like it's never been cleaned?

  "Something wrong?" Six asked, though there was a distinct hint of amusement in her tone. She knew what he must be thinking about judging by the way his face scrunched up in disgust.

  "Nothing. Nothing at all. Let's just go," he said, taking the fist of many steps. Six followed behind, the smallest of smiles on her face.

  The hallway contained four doors, two on the left, one on the right, with the final one waiting for them at the end of the hall. They tried the doors in sequential order, with Harry being the one to toss her up. All three of the doors along the walls remained stubbornly closed, every painted on eye watching them with mockery.

  It wasn't even that they were locked, or at least two of them weren't, they were just blocked by something on the other side. Probably trash. But with those paths unavailable, that left only one way forward.

  Unless of course, that way was blocked as well. That was a fear both of them had but neither chose to voice it.

  Fortunately, their fears were unfounded. As Six grabbed hold of the handle, the door swung open with a gentle squeak. Six dropped to the ground and the two of them peaked inside, seeing what awaited them.

  The first thing to take notice of was the enormous telescope in the center of the room. It was covered in moss and vines, appearing as if it hadn't been used in decades. Which it probably hadn't.

  Above it, they could see the holes in the ceiling, letting in droplets of silver moonlight. Stars twinkled merrily all around it, but Harry remembered the eyes when he came to this world on that hot air balloon. To him, it didn't seem like a beautiful sky adorned with jewels, but a foreboding reminder of them always being watched.

  He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, but that didn't seem likely. He couldn't be sure, but he suspected, given where they were, that the telescope had something to do with the lens that they needed.

  The walls were painted with images of star charts, faded and barely visible and appeared to be collapsing on each other, like the room had somehow shrunk in on itself. Deep blue paint chipped and fell away from the wall, making it seem like they were in a gentle snowfall.

  On the far side of the room was a raised platform with stairs leading to it from either side. Or at least, that's what it used to be but now, the stairs have long collapsed, leaving behind nothing more than a pile of rotten wood.

  Speaking of, the room was filled with old, broken things. Wood, metal, glass, cloth, plastic… All piled up in great heaps along the floor. How did it get there? Where did it come from? These were some of the thoughts going through their minds as they observed the room.

  In the center of the platform was a door, half broken with mold and mushrooms growing from it like wildflowers. It was almost a pretty sight, but Harry didn't think they'd be getting through that door anytime soon, even if they could reach it.

  The floor, or what little they could see of it anyway, looked like it was painted with constellations. But it was hard to tell with all the wreckage on it.

  "What the heck happened here?" Harry asked, approaching a pile of rubbish cautiously. Picking up a piece, he saw it was a picture frame, one so covered with mold it was impossible to make out what it was. Considering what the pictures were normally like in the Nowhere, Harry didn't find it to be a great loss.

  "Good question. It looks like it was hit by an earthquake," she replied, similarly looking through a different pile of trash. Maybe if she was lucky she'd find something useful, but she wasn't willing to dig through it to any great extent on such a flimsy hope.

  "Does the Nowhere even have earthquakes?" Harry asked. Six shrugged in response, having no idea. But why wouldn't this place have something like a natural disaster? Seems like a perfect fit to her.

  The two continued towards the enormous telescope in the center of the room, making sure not to disturb the great big piles of trash. Neither of them desired to be buried alive.

  It didn't take long, a few minutes at most. They weren't in a hurry and with the room in such a state of disarray, there was no telling where something might pop out and surprise them.

  Once there, they carefully observed the broken-down machine. Now that they were closer, it was obvious it couldn't be used. As if the room wasn't already an indication of this.

  However, that didn't matter. They had no intention of using the thing unless they had to. What was more important was seeing if it had a lens.

  "Help me up," Six said. Kneeling down, Harry clasped his fingers together, giving her a footstool. She placed her foot in his hand and he threw her up, with Six landing on a mostly intact portion.

  From there, she carefully made her way around the device, inspecting each and every part of it. When she made it to the other side, she saw something. It was a cylindrical container right above the eyepiece. It looked like it normally needed something to open it, but with it in such a state of decay all Six had to do was shimmy it around and it broke right off.

  And inside was the lens, shattered into dozens of pieces. Six stared at in shock and disbelief. What were they supposed to do now? Without this, they couldn't unveil the final painting.

  Was everything for nothing? Was their struggle one big cosmic joke?

  "Six, you ok?" Harry called, seeing her frozen in place. Six looked down at him, and for the first time the emotions she was displaying were so easy to figure out anyone could have done it.

  Despair.

  "Hairy, it's… Look," she said, holding up a few pieces of clear, broken glass. Eyes widening at the implication, Harry opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say. If that was what they needed, and it was broken then…

  "So, what now?" he asked. But Six only shook her head, having no idea. He didn't like the look of defeat on her face but he didn't know how to fix it. Sighing, Harry turned around, staring angrily at the piles of garbage.

  And that's when he saw it. Bones. Children's bones to be precise. He frowned, realizing they weren't the only ones to have visited this place. It was a grim reminder of the reality they faced. One wrong move and they could very well end up just like them.

  That being said, there was something different about these bones. Seeing them filled Harry with a sense of melancholy, a sadness so deep it saturated his soul. But for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. Sure it was sad that someone died, but for him to feel like this?

  Choosing to ignore the feeling, he noticed they were holding onto something, a thin metal plate. That was weird. So weird in fact that he carefully extracted it, wondering what could have been so important that they clung onto it even in death.

  Looking at it, he didn't see anything special. At least not initially. But when he turned it over, that's when he saw what was so important about it.

  "Six… I think you need to see this," Harry called out, getting her attention. There was noticeable tremor in his voice, carrying with it emotions she couldn't recognize. Looking down at him, she saw he was holding onto something, though he seemed to be doing his best to drop it with how hard his hands were trembling.

  Curious, and more than a little nervous, Six made her way back down. Whatever it was, it should at least provide a decent distraction from her own whirling thoughts. Landing on the ground with a light thump, she quickly made her way over to her companion.

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "It's a message," he said, making her even more baffled. Judging by the bones beneath them she could only assume it was from that person. But why would that have shaken him up so much? They were just bones, hardly anything unusual to see around.

  However, even as the thought entered her mind it was clear there as something different about these bones. Six was no stranger to death, dead bodies were a dime a dozen in the Nowhere. So why did the sight of these bones in particular fill her with such unease?

  No, not unease. Fear. It was like some part of her deep down wanted nothing more than to flee and never look back. Not even the Pretender made her so afraid.

  "Well, are you going to read it?" she asked, attempting to distract herself from the fear clawing at her psyche, desperate to get its hooks into her.

  "I… alright. Let's see, um. Ha*ry, if you're re*ding this then I *eed your help. I'v* been ta*en by the Observer. He's l*cked *e in this ca*e a*d I hav* no m*ans of e*cape. I saw a k*y earl*er, in the pla*etari*m. I do*'t kno* if *hat's the rig*t one, b*t it's *ur only c*ance. If the wo*st s*oul* h*ppen- The message cuts off there," he said.

  At least now she understood what had him so spooked. Taking the object from him, she took note of the rust preventing the message from being read easily along with cutting off the end of it. But as she stared at the words, she made a startling realization.

  "Hairy…" she said, her own voice filled with fear and worry. But it wasn't the message that caused her to panic, it was the words themselves. Turning to look at his friend, the only one he had in either world, he noticed her skin was even more pale than usual.

  "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned. Her next words would shake him to his very core.

  "This… this is my handwriting."