🔶 POV: Scrooge McDuck (First-Person)
I take one step into the main hallway.
One.
Single.
Step.
And then—
"…Where in blazes am I?"
This is NOT the same hallway.
This isn't even a hallway.
It's a staircase.No, a balcony.No—an upside-down corridor where the ceiling is the floor and the floor is the wrong way up.
I try turning left.
But left turns into down.
Then up.
Then sideways.
I try turning right.
Right spits me into another staircase that leads into a room full of doors—floating doors—spinning like gears in a clock.
"Ooooh, this is fascinatin'!"
I try going back the way I came.
I do NOT go back the way I came.
I end up outside.
Outside the hotel.
Floating in a void.
Staring at…at EVERYTHING.
The Omniverse.
Infinite worlds.Infinite galaxies.Infinite colors.Infinite realities stacked atop each other like shimmering shards of stained glass.
It's beautiful.Terrifying.Magnificent.
"…Well, Scrooge ye fool," I mutter, clutching my hat, "ye may've bitten off more than ye can chew this time."
Finally, reluctantly, I swallow my pride.
I shout into the cosmic void:
"…I need a wee bit o' assistance, please."
🔶 POV: Alex (Third-Person)
Alex appears instantly.
The Infinite Hotel avatar materializes beside Scrooge as if the space around him simply decided he was there.
He lays a hand on Scrooge's shoulder.
Scrooge vanishes—
—reappearing in the lobby, standing exactly where he began.
Alex looks down at him.
"Scrooge McDuck. What did you learn about wandering into an infinite extradimensional structure composed of non-Euclidean geometry?"
🔶 POV: Scrooge McDuck (First-Person)
I straighten my coat.
I adjust my hat.
I clear my throat.
"Aye.I learned…"
I hold up a finger.
"…that infinity is bigger than I expected."
I hold up a second.
"…that walkin' in a straight line does NOT work here."
Third finger.
"…and that askin' for directions occasionally is NOT a sign o' weakness."
I drop my hand.
"And lastly—that I REALLY want tae know how the blazes this place WORKS."
Alex gives the smallest nod I've ever seen on a face with no face.
🔶 POV: Alex (Third-Person)
Alex gestures to the side.
A hive staff member appears—faceless, polite, emanating the calm efficiency of a professional who could serve a deity breakfast without stress.
"This is one of my staff. If you need guidance, they can escort you."
Scrooge nods respectfully.
"Pleasure tae meet ye, lad."
The hive member bows.
Alex continues:
"I will now show you the dining hall. Afterward, your room."
🔶 POV: Scrooge McDuck (First-Person)
The dining hall is—
—massive.
More massive than any ballroom I've ever seen in me travels.
An impossible cathedral of food.
Tables stretch endlessly.Hive chefs at the far end craft dishes that smell like heaven condensed into a kitchen.
My bill twitches just from the aroma.
Alex gestures toward a seat.
I sit.
A plate appears.
A simple omelette.
Simple.
I take one bite.
Then I stop.
Close my eyes.
Then I slap both hands on the table.
"BY THE FEATHERS OF ME ANCESTORS—WHAT IS THIS!?!?"
It's perfect.Perfecter than perfect.No better word exists for how perfect it is.
It's like tasting sunshine.And adventure.And victory.And childhood.And triumph.All wrapped together in hot, fluffy egg.
I look up, trembling.
"This… This is the greatest food in the world."
Alex corrects me immediately.
"It is the greatest food in the Omniverse."
I choke on my own breath.
"The… Omniverse?"
"Yes."
I blink.
"So… this omelette is divine?"
"No."
"Then HOW does this taste like the distilled essence o' culinary paradise!?"
Alex raises a hand.
"These ingredients come from a world where this quality of food is considered average."
I freeze.
I stare.
My soul leaves my body.
"…AVERAGE!?!?"
"Yes."
"AVERAGE!? THIS TASTES LIKE A CELESTIAL FEAST FROM BEYOND REALITY—AND YE'RE TELLING ME THIS IS AVERAGE WHERE IT CAME FROM!?!?"
Alex nods.
Calmly.
Dryly.
As if saying:
"Yes, 2 + 2 = 4, Scrooge."
I clutch the table to keep myself from collapsing.
"…I need tae see that world someday."
"You are not allowed."
"Blast!"
🔶 POV: Alex (Third-Person)
When Scrooge finishes his meal—after praising every bite with dramatic reverence—Alex hands him a small, shining key.
"This is your room key. Hold it out in front of you, and a door will appear. Your room will adjust to your preferences."
Scrooge takes the key gently, like it's a treasure map to El Dorado.
Then he looks up at Alex.
"…I'll try not tae get lost again."
Alex gives the flattest reply possible:
"You will fail."
"…Aye, probably."
But he smiles.
An adventurer's smile.
And walks off toward his new room.