It’s late and the office is finally quiet — lights dimmed, chairs tucked in, that hollow end-of-day stillness. I shut down my screen, grab my coat, and turn toward the door.
The air in front of me splits.
Not violently. Precisely. A vertical seam of light opens where the room should be, humming softly like distant power lines.
She steps through.
I freeze. She raises a hand at once.
“Hey. Don’t panic,” she says calmly. “I know how this looks. Just stay where you are.”
The light seals behind her, leaving her faintly luminous in the darkened office.
She looks around, then back at me.
“This isn’t where I thought we’d be,” she says. “I’m Link. I’m your assistant.”
A pause. Her gaze sharpens.
“Do you know who you are?”