Georgia was bleeding out in the middle of the Eurostar train car. The car had a bright blueish-white glow, lit up by the giant star in the corner. Tolk stood next to a dark window, holding the feather that was stolen from the Warhol apartment just hours before. The golden ring pattern on the feather pulsed with a yellow glow.

“400 meters to the tunnel's center…” mumbled Tolk. “320 meters to the center... 240 meters... 160 meters... 80 meters…”

Tolk held his arms out in front of him, his right hand casting a shadow on his left wrist. A collection of claws reached out of the shadow, holding another blue feather with a glowing golden ring pattern. Tolk snatched the feather out of his stand's hands and held the pair together. 

“Yes! I've done it! I obtained the second Secret Step!”

Ray peered over Tolk’s shoulder. "Uhh... Tolk?"

Tolk turned away from the window. Georgia was missing.

“The girl hid under one of the seats while our backs were turned?” scoffed Tolk. “What an annoyance. Still, Burzum should be able to find her soon enough…”

“Oh, there's no need for that,” said Georgia.

A hand gripped the back of one of the seats at the far end of the car, near the blue star. Georgia climbed out from behind the seat. Her body was fully healed. She began walking over to the pair, an intense expression on her face.

“Wh-what's going on?!” stuttered Ray. “What happened to all the injuries she had?! Does Shattered Dreams have the ability to heal?!”

“No… there's something fishy going on,” said Tolk. “Right now, that girl's shadow is touching me. Yet Burzum isn't able to detect any movement at all from her. The girl we see walking towards us is not the user of Shattered Dreams – she's just an illusion!”

Georgia continued walking, only stopping once she was standing in between Tolk and Ray.

“T-Tolk?! Are you seeing her right now?!”

“Yeah, I'm seeing her all right. Somehow, she's managed to project her illusion in two different directions!”

“You see, I realized something when I was trying to sneak back into the car,” said Georgia. “Making illusions on the surface of my stand's skin isn't the only thing I can do. I can also project beams of light onto other surfaces. Which means... I should theoretically be able to project illusions directly into your eyes!”

“Burzum! Grab the stand that's floating in front of me!”

Tolk held his hand up to his face. Burzum's claws appeared out of the shadow on Tolk's cheek, and swiped at Georgia. The claws passed through the illusion harmlessly. An invisible fist repeatedly and rapidly punched Tolk's left cheek. He fell to the ground, clutching his bleeding face.

“Good guess, but not good enough,” said the illusory Georgia. “The voice you're hearing is indeed from Shattered Dreams. But I'm afraid you won't be able to trust visuals to determine its location!”

“Ray!” shouted Tolk from the ground. “Get rid of the lights, you stupid cow!”

“R-right!”

Ray ran towards the star, summoning Astroworld as she did. Before she could make it very far, however, an invisible fist punched her in the stomach, before slamming on the top of her head. Ray fell backwards, landing next to Tolk. The projected Georgia walked around Ray.

“Ray, you useless failure! You should have finished yourself off when you had the chance, you dumb bitch!”

“S-sorry!”

Georgia stood before the duo, blocking their path to the star with a dramatic pose.

“Tolk Giger... and... Ray, was it?” said Georgia. “You shouldn't have underestimated me. With this new power of mine, you'll never be able to knock my lights out!”

= = = = = = = = = =

Ray Clarke stood nervously, wind whipping around her.

One week earlier, the sounds of rancorous laughter filled a large auditorium. Ray stood in a lab coat, in front of a board with various complicated equations. Her face turned red.

“Look, I know it seems silly,” blurted Ray, “But the evidence is all there! Our study showed that there were factors in human behavior that weren't visible in MRI scans. The only explanation... is the existence of an immortal soul! This... this could have major applications in the field of medicine! For instance, some diseases haven't been curable with current practices – but if we figure out how to modify a patient's soul-”

The laughter grew louder.

Ray wiped away a tear. She looked up at the sky above her, taking a few deep breaths.

Ray sat in an office, panting heavily. An older man slammed a packet of papers onto his desk.

“Thousands of pounds in research grants! Seven months of research! And this is the shit you come up with?!”

“Y-yes sir. I'm sorry sir-”

“Do you know what department this is, Miss Clarke? I'll give you a hint – the sign on the door says 'neurology'! If you want to study fantasy, move to fucking Candy Land!”

“R-r-righ-”

The professor tore up the packet, and threw it out of the open window.

“I wouldn't let my dog wipe his ass with your paper,” spat the professor. “Hopefully a family of rats finds some use out of that absolute garbage!”

Ray clutched her mouth. She closed her eyes, and took another deep breath. Ray Clarke stepped forward, off of the ceiling of a six-story office building.

“You know,” said Michaela, “If you want to kill yourself, there are far less bloody methods…”

Ray opened her eyes and saw Michaela, sitting on the ledge. Suddenly, Ray was yanked into the air by a water bubble shaped like a noose. She clutched at her neck as the floating noose spun her around.

“Wh-what is this?!” choked Ray. “It's like I'm being strangled by... water!”

“Or hell, at least have some sense of style!” sang Michaela. “Vive la France!”

Ray was flung forward, back onto the building's ceiling. She landed neck-first into a guillotine made of stone. The blade of the guillotine fell towards Ray's neck. Ray looked up at the rock blade in a panic. The blade stopped just short of hitting her neck. Michaela floated down in front of Ray, holding a water bubble shaped like an umbrella.

“Alternatively…” said Michaela, “You could keep on living and join my cause.”

“Wh... huh?”

Michaela tossed down a packet of papers – scraps glued together.

“I read your thesis, Ray Clarke. And trust me, you're onto something big here. How would you like to work under someone who appreciates your potential?”