Jamie's eyes slowly opened, layers of light filtering into his vision.
He lay still for a moment, staring at the vintage wooden ceiling above him. It was exquisite—polished beams carved with delicate patterns, the kind you would find in some of the most expensive hotels on Earth. For a fleeting second, he genuinely believed he was back in the world of the living.
Then memory struck.
The collapse. The extraction.
He was nowhere near Earth.
"He woke up. Give him the medicine."
Two female voices spoke nearby. When he turned his head toward the sound, his heart skipped.
Two girls—no, female demons—stood beside a large tube connected near his bed, drawing a glowing substance from it. They looked about his age. One had pink hair, the other red. Their figures were undeniably mature, their presence overwhelming in a way that felt intentional. No horns crowned their heads—only subtle pointy teeth that made them appear almost cute rather than dangerous.
"Have a drink, my lord."
