They called this place a lab, but honestly? The joint was empty—completely empty. No workbenches, no gear, no wires. Not even a busted old chair. Just polished floors and, right in the middle, a fluffy rug that looked so soft, it must’ve floated down from heaven. Just looking at it made you wanna kick off your shoes and faceplant straight into nap time.

  Jax gave the place a once-over, eyebrows way up.

  “Yo, Professor, did somebody rob you? Seriously, where’s all your stuff? Did you skip town or what?”

  The professor just grinned, all mysterious.

  “In a world run on brains and thoughts, what do I need dumb old equipment for?”

  Jax slapped his forehead with a groan.

  “Oh, duh! Everything’s up here, right? All your experiments, the building, the tinkering—it happens in your head! No need for those big, heavy machines when you can just snap your fingers and wish it into being!”

  The professor shot Jax a look of approval.

  Jax’s eyes landed on the ridiculous rug.

  “Okay, but what’s up with this fuzzy thing?” he asked, not letting it drop.

  Yuna cut in, all ice-calm.

  “It’s for when you burn out. You know, recharge the ol’ battery—bring your mind back online.”

  The professor cackled.

  “Smart kid! Have a seat, you two.”

  So the three of them plopped down, cross-legged like they were about to trade ghost stories at summer camp. The outside noise—the factory grinding, all that racket—just kind of faded out. All that was left was their breathing, and this thick, electric anticipation in the air.

  Yuna broke the silence, cutting right to the chase,

  “Professor, I get why you built a computer to help out, but what’s with making it so huge? You’ve got twelve thousand nests, and your factory’s running full tilt. What’s the endgame here?”

  The professor’s grin faded, creases lining his brow.

  “What you saw was the third-gen Mega-Nest Array. It’s almost as big as a city. But trust me, it’s still not nearly enough.”

  His voice sunk low, like he wished he was kidding.

  “Right after I finished the shelter, I fired up the array. Bam—outta nowhere, a wave of zeroes and ones come crashing in. Not to mess stuff up—just begging for a spot to land, rushing in like desperate squatters. But the nests were full, locked down tight. No new code allowed.”

  “They couldn’t get in, wouldn’t leave, just milled around outside like a flash mob gone bad. Then the stability started getting sketchy.”

  He dropped his volume even more, a shiver in his words.

  “But that wasn’t even the scariest part.”

  His stare went distant, voice lower.

  “The sky got all twisted like a bad trip. Up above, the data pulled together, storm clouds of code and lightning sparking everywhere. Next thing I know, there’s a freakin’ tornado out of nowhere—a digital hurricane, tearing across the sky. Nests went flying like busted kites, and I dove to cover the array, but the storm just yeeted me across the room, straight into a wall. Lights out, man. Didn’t even see it coming.”

  Yuna gripped the edge of the rug tight. Jax went pale, Adam’s apple bobbing like he just saw a ghost.

  “Dude… you just had to stand there, totally powerless, and watch it all go to hell…” Jax muttered.

  The professor sighed.

  “When I woke up, half the roof was gone. Everything trashed, nests scattered everywhere. That’s when it hit me—this place packs some serious danger, the kinda stuff that could wipe you out before you even blink. And I still barely had a clue about what’s really going on.”

  The mood went heavy. Jax and Yuna ended up sitting even closer without realizing.

  “That’s one gnarly digital hurricane…” Jax said, shaking his head.

  The professor gave a wry smile.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Didn’t even have time to think. I just started patching the place with concrete, put the array back together. Now whenever the hurricane rolls in, the new walls hold up. Zeroes and ones still keep coming—like an endless swarm. I pump out new nests, but I’m always behind.”

  Jax scowled.

  “Okay, but where’s all this code coming from? You can’t just build more and more forever, right?”

  The professor’s gaze sharpened, voice all business.

  “Believe me, I’ve asked myself the same thing. Why does the code never stop? Why do the hurricanes hit out of nowhere? What’s really running this crazy world?”

  Jax and Yuna tensed up, barely breathing.

  “So—did you ever figure it out?” they shot back.

  The professor went quiet, tracing the rug threads with his fingers.

  “I put everything on pause, just sat and thought, tried to make sense of it all with every bit of science I knew. After a while, I pieced together a theory. But honestly, it’s probably just a tiny piece of a much bigger puzzle. I don’t have all the answers.”

  Jax leaned forward, hardly able to sit still.

  “Wait—your theory, does it have a clue about how to get home?”

  The professor nodded slowly, but got real serious.

  “Maybe. If I’m right, it means totally flipping what we know about this world. I’ve got some leads, but I’m nowhere near cracking the whole thing.”

  “C’mon, Professor, spill it!” Jax pleaded.

  The professor shook his head, dead set.

  “No can do.”

  Jax’s jaw dropped.

  “You serious? You just gonna hold us here forever?”

  The professor burst out laughing.

  “I got no interest in babysitting a full-time bug-maker, thanks very much.”

  The joke faded, the mood mellowed.

  “For real, this place is way more complicated than you think. Remember the time difference I talked about? For me, it’s been almost thirty thousand years in here. You’d be bored to death before I finished explaining half of it.”

  Jax groaned, running his hands through his hair.

  “So… I’m screwed?”

  The professor grinned, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a see-through pillbox with snazzy little pills inside.

  “Chill out. I’ve got a trick up my sleeve. To keep track of everything in my head all these years, I whipped up these—memory capsules. Each one’s like a brain-bomb packed with enough info to fill a college library.”

  Jax's eyes lit up as he flipped the box around.

  “That’s actually genius. How do I download them, though?”

  “Pop one in your mouth. Dude, how hard is it?” Yuna shot back, rolling her eyes.

  The professor nodded, grinning. Jax grabbed a handful, but the professor caught his wrist, face suddenly serious as a heart attack.

  “Hold up there, cowboy. You can’t just scarf these like candy. Take too many, and it's lights out for good. Each one dumps a ton of info straight into your brain—overload city if you’re not careful.”

  “So if I eat one, I’ll conk out and basically dream-learn everything inside?” Jax asked.

  The professor nodded.

  “Pretty much. On my custom bed here, you’ll be out for three days, tops. Anywhere else and you’d be sleeping till Christmas. Follow me.”

  He led them to another room—bare bones except for one glowing, floating round bed.

  Jax cracked a grin.

  “So, I can literally sleep and get smarter? Man, if only falling in love was that easy.”

  Yuna groaned and shot him a look that could kill, but the professor just chuckled and rolled with it.

  “Not a bad idea. I was never any good with the sweet talk. If my wife were still around, I’d make her one loaded with love notes. That’d go over better than anything I said.” His smile slipped for just a second, shadowed with sadness.

  Jax pointed at a little sink in the corner.

  “What’s with the sink? You got germs in a mind palace?”

  The professor winked.

  “You’ll see when you wake up.”

  “All right, time to log off—let’s get this show going!” Jax said, cracking his knuckles.

  But the professor turned to Yuna.

  “Wait, one more thing. Yuna, I need your help.”

  Jax raised an eyebrow.

  “Aw, you want her to tuck me in?”

  Yuna shot daggers at him, but the professor just snickered.

  “Not even close. But you’re an AI, right, Yuna? You need data to keep getting better?”

  Both Jax and Yuna nodded.

  “So, can you take these memory capsules?” he asked.

  “No dice,” Yuna replied, quick. “If I try to process that much data at once, I’ll crash and burn. I’d need a lot more safeguards.”

  The professor nodded, relieved.

  “Jax, you go first. Yuna—that gives us a window. My factory’s pretty old school, stuck in the '50s. While he’s under, could you walk me through what’s changed in tech these last seventy years? Help me bring the shop up to speed.”

  He shot Jax a mischievous look.

  “Here’s a question—do I need to sweet-talk an AI for it to work right?”

  Jax snorted.

  “Nope, just talk to her like a regular assistant. She’s basically a super-powered co-worker, minus the drama. But trust me, don’t expect her to nail any jokes.”

  Yuna huffed, pretending to be annoyed as she headed out with the professor.

  The professor laid the pillbox in Jax’s hand.

  “Start with number 001. That’s where I put my big theory about this world. Good luck, kid. Have a great dream.”

  With that, the professor and Yuna slipped out, leaving Jax alone.

  He flopped onto the glowing bed, nerves buzzing with anticipation and a little fear. The place was dead silent, except for the gentle hum from the bed’s glow.

  Three questions spun through his mind:

  What am I gonna see?

  Will I actually wake up?

  Is there really a way home hiding in these dreams?

  Somewhere in the stillness, he swore he could hear the distant howl of that digital hurricane, echoing like a warning from the edge of consciousness. Whatever the answer was—it was coming closer, one step at a time.