The hallway they found themselves in was illuminated only by the faint reddish glow spilling from what looked like a bar somewhere ahead.

Two sets of footsteps echoed through the darkness. One pair was heavy and deliberate, coming from the direction of the red light. The other was lighter and quicker, somewhere off to the right.

The three teenagers held their breath.

Hugo, meanwhile, was also holding back the overwhelming urge to tell them they were insane and drag them out of there by force. But it was too late to turn back now. They were already trespassing. They might as well see this through.

Mica crept forward and, feeling his way through the darkness, discovered a door in the direction of the less threatening footsteps. He pushed it open and the hinges squealed. At the exact same moment, the heavy footsteps stopped. Then, after only a second or two— they rushed toward them.

The three teenagers immediately abandoned any thoughts of retreat and hurried through the doorway. When Hugo slammed the door shut behind them, he heard Cat gasp. A narrow staircase descended before them. Old. Steep. Dangerously so. Cat had nearly lost her footing.

Like the hallway above, the space was almost entirely dark, save for the flickering glow of candlelight coming from below.

The three exchanged nervous looks. Mica and Cat nodded.

They were trapped between the answer to their mystery and Mr. No. The decision wasn't difficult. Carefully, they descended.

When they reached the bottom, they found something that left them caught between excitement and fear.

The entire basement was illuminated by dozens of candles. At the center sat three people on a collection of old, faded rugs. Two were strangers. The third was the girl who had given Mica the invitation earlier that morning. A cloak concealed most of her face beneath deep shadows.

Between them lay piles of dice, books, miniature figures— and, for some reason, a strange yellow hedgehog plush.

"Welcome, adventurers," the girl greeted them, then she tilted her head slightly. "Though I seem to remember inviting only one."

"Sorry." Mica rubbed the back of his neck. "These are my friends, Hugo and Cat. They got interested when I told them about the Adventurers' Group and, well..."

The girl offered no response. Hugo, however, had recovered enough courage to speak.

"Dice and miniatures. See?" He pointed triumphantly. "I told you it was a Dungeons & Dragons club!"

The girl's expression twisted into a visible grimace. Still, she said nothing. Instead, she gestured dramatically toward the two strangers.

"These are Cleric and Rogue." The gesture swept toward the newcomers. "Sit down and introduce yourselves."

"I'm Hugo." The redhead immediately sat beside the chubby boy Sarah had identified as Cleric.

"No." The response was sharp. Severe. "No names." Sarah folded her arms. "Adventurers have no need for worldly names." She pointed directly at Hugo. "State your class."

"...Sophomore?" Hugo hesitated.

Mica could practically see Sarah's patience evaporating.

"No, Hugo," he whispered. "She introduced those two as Cleric and Rogue. She means RPG classes."

"Right." Hugo nodded. "That was my second guess. I'm just, you know—"

"Class." Sarah's voice cracked like a whip.

"Dragoon." He pointed at himself. "Yeah. Dragoon."

Sarah immediately turned toward Cat.

"Class?"

Cat hesitated too.

"Well, that's a pretty important question to answer that quickly, isn't it?"

Sarah's eye twitched as Cat continues:

"I mean, I'd like to be a White Mage, but we already have a Cleric. So the party synergy would probably—"

Sarah let out a long sigh, then she slowly turned her gaze toward Mica. The look hit him like an arrow.

"Cat, just pick something," Mica whispered. "I don't think it matters."

Hugo nearly choked trying not to laugh.

"Okay, okay." Cat raised both hands defensively. "What class would Rinoa be?"

"Bad example. In Final Fantasy VIII everyone can basically be anything because of the Junction system, so—"

Sarah abruptly stood. The other two players didn't even react, clearly used to this. The cloaked girl marched over and crouched in front of the newcomers.

"What I need least is people treating this like a joke."

Her eyes moved across all three of them. Though they lingered noticeably longer on Hugo. For perhaps the first time in his life, the redhead sat perfectly straight and looked genuinely scolded. It was the most convincing expression of discipline Mica had ever seen him make.

"This is important." Sarah's voice softened slightly. "As your invitations explained—which, of course, neither of you read because neither of you received one—the world depends on this." She pointed toward the stairs. "If you're staying, take it seriously."

After delivering her warning, Sarah returned to her place among the candles. Then she pointed impatiently at Cat.

"Archer," Cat blurted out. "I'm Archer."

Sarah nodded. Then pointed at Mica.

"Swordman." Unlike his friends, Mica answered without hesitation.

"Very good." Sarah spread her arms dramatically. "Dragoon. Swordman. Archer." A faint smile appeared. "Welcome. It's probably unnecessary to say this, but everything you see and hear here is strictly confidential." She raised a finger. "That is the first rule of the Adventurers' Group." Another finger. "No one talks about the Adventurers' Group."

Mica immediately shot Hugo a warning look, hoping to stop whatever joke about clichés was undoubtedly forming inside his head. Instead, he found the redhead still sitting there with the exact same chastised expression.

Remarkable.

"The second rule of the Adventurers' Group, is that once you're in here, you don't talk about anything from the 'real world'" Sarah continued, making quotation marks in the air around the words. She emphasized the phrase heavily.

"A comment. A memory. Even thinking about it can break the connection." A third finger. "The third rule is to trust your abilities and trust your companions." Her eyes swept across the room. "Understood?"

Mica glanced at Cat and Hugo. To his surprise, both nodded solemnly. Not wanting to interrupt the already irritated girl, he nodded too.

"Very good." Sarah sat straighter. "I am Master. Now, close your eyes. Listen to the call of the wind. And let yourselves be carried away."

The three obeyed. Though none of them knew what wind she was talking about. Then, the moment they closed their eyes— they felt it.

A powerful gust swept through their hair. It carried the scent of fresh grass.

Open air. Very open air.

Without waiting for further instructions, they opened their eyes and found themselves standing in the middle of a fantasy meadow.

Mica's jaw dropped. A single half-finished exclamation escaped his lips.

"Holy fu—"