Zaniel now finds himself standing in a tiny hallway. He stares at the bright green door with a giant “3” shut against him. He does not recognize it at all. Nor does the orange door beside it look familiar. This is not his office. He follows the hallway around the corner. He almost walks straight into a reception desk in an equally small, empty lobby. More bright colours leap at him off the walls, painted shocking shades of neon orange, yellow, and green patterns. He squints at them: the walls are covered in sheets of paper with animated, unintelligible writing. The words move. He steps back and exhales.

A dream. “I knew it.” No wonder his co-workers were taking it easy on him.

Around the corner, a door slams. Someone rushes out and almost walks right into Zaniel. It is the woman with the flash cards. Their eyes meet once again. She lets the flash cards fall at her feet. “I’m dreaming,” she shakes her head, talking as if to herself. “I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming …” she chants. Zaniel can still hear her as she speed-walks down another hallway in a huff. He watches her go before he finally decides to take the elevator down and out of the building. He can do as he pleases now, and nothing would please him more than to leave this strange place that reminds him of work.

The elevator doors slide open onto the street, which is devoid of human existence. The air is grey and foggy, though not so dense that Zaniel misses the signs pointing in the direction of the train station. It is close, apparently. Just around the corner of the lone elevator in the middle of the street. Nishibe Station, a sign briefly reads in kanji, 50 m.

“Hmmm,” Zaniel frowns at the words as they mutate into squiggly, contorted characters. Strange that he ended up so far from home, and farther still from the mountains. But it does not matter. Getting to familiar territory is easy.

At the station, Zaniel hops over the turnstile in one agile leap and practically flies up the three flights of stairs with single strides. A train is already there, waiting for him. He has his choice of seats, for the train car is completely empty. He feels the jolt of electricity under his feet before he can even choose where to sit. Not that he wants to. He would much rather find Akki and get this dream over with. He walks to the next car. No one is here, either. This is useless. Akki is not on this train. Why should he be? If anything, he is waiting for Zaniel at home. But then, would his bracelets not tell him so? Neither one is glowing. Zaniel’s eyebrows furrow. Something is wrong with this dream.