"Is it good?"

  Emma asked, watching Maya eat blood sausage and black rye bread with curious eyes.

  They sat together in the cafeteria on the 8th floor of the Luna Nordics building.

  Blood sausage—made from pig’s blood and barley—was traditionally a winter holiday dish.

  But even as it warmed her mouth, something in her stomach twisted.

  Like her body still remembered being dead.

  Its iron-rich flavor wasn’t for everyone, but Maya had always liked it.

  The dense, dark rye bread reminded her of simpler times.

  Back when fresh food still existed.

  Before everything turned into synthetic sticks: sour cream sticks, apple-berry sticks… all the average citizen could afford now.

  But here, before her, was a meal from another life.

  It tasted like something her mother once made.

  Something warm. Something real.

  "Yeah… maybe I'm just tired. But it tastes amazing."

  She smiled faintly.

  "Glad to hear it!"

  Emma beamed, digging into her own meal—cepelinai and hernekeitto, a thick pea-and-bacon soup.

  “Want some soup?” she offered.

  Maya took a sip—warm, rich with smoky bacon. It was comforting.

  The cafeteria wasn’t crowded—five or six other women, all around twenty. Nordic, Eastern European, diverse.

  They glanced at Maya but didn’t approach.

  Emma leaned in slightly, lowering her voice.

  "Let me give you a quick rundown of the place. The Director’s office is on the top floor—10th. I live in Room 303 on the third floor. The second floor has the infirmary and counseling rooms—"

  Maya nodded, but her eyes drifted to the window behind Emma.

  Far across the street, on the sidewalk, a man stood. Hood pulled low. Unmoving.

  And for some reason… he was looking right at her.

  She blinked.

  …Gone.

  Her chest tightens, inexplicably.

  "...The first floor has a law firm and a private investigation office down there. Civilians come in and out, so keep your head down.

  But don’t worry—this cafeteria is Returners only."

  Emma popped the last cepelinai into her mouth.

  “…Thanks for explaining. But… isn’t this food expensive?”

  Maya glanced at her plate.

  Emma grinned mischievously.

  “Don’t worry. There’s a market where Returners can get real ingredients cheap. Perks of the job.”

  She paused, then turned serious.

  "Hey… Maya."

  "Hm?"

  "What did you think of what the Director said?"

  Her amber eyes gleamed with sincerity. Maya found them beautiful.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “…I’m not sure. Honestly, I’m still processing everything.

  Too much happened, too fast. I died, came back, and now I’m a Returner?

  It’s probably true… but I haven’t caught up emotionally."

  Emma nodded.

  “Totally fair. It takes time to believe any of it. But you’ve got a week to decide. And for what it’s worth… I hope you choose to stay with Luna Nordics.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I don’t know your whole story. But this place?

  It’s the best shot we’ve got at surviving as Returners.

  Also…” she smiled shyly, “I’ve always wanted a friend my age in the unit.

  You tried to fight like me, right?

  You’ve got potential. I’d love to train with you. Protect you.”

  “…Thanks, Emma. And… thanks for taking care of me.

  But… can I have a little time to think about it?”

  “Of course. No pressure.

  Now that we’re fed, how about a walk?”

  They took the elevator down to the first floor. As they exited, a tall man—early twenties—stepped out of the law office.

  Dark blond hair, cut short but with slightly longer bangs.

  Gray eyes. Athletic, nearly 6 feet tall.

  Dressed in a dark navy suit, his appearance was sharp, professional.

  (If I didn’t hate men, I might admit he was handsome...) Maya thought.

  “Still working hard, Ethan?” Emma called cheerfully. “Heading out for evidence?”

  “Already got it,” he said with a shrug. “Just handed it to Attorney Berner. Got more to do.”

  He glanced at Maya.

  “This is Ethan,” Emma said. “He’s Victoria’s little brother.

  Luna Nordics doesn’t usually allow men in, but he’s an exception due to his legal work.”

  (Maya recalled Victoria’s cold, razor-sharp fighting style.

  Ethan didn’t give the same impression—but maybe, in battle, he could be just as terrifying.)

  “So you’re the one my sister rescued. I see.”

  That’s all he said.

  “Yup! I’m showing her around today,” Emma replied with a grin.

  “Then she’s in good hands. I’ll be off.”

  And with that, Ethan walked away.

  Maya noticed Emma lingered, her gaze trailing after him.

  (If I weren’t here… would she have wanted to talk with him more?)

  Guilt pricked at her.

  “Come on, Maya! Let’s go.”

  Emma smiled again, brushing the moment away.

  Outside the building, Emma explained where they were: Eldrant—the second capital of the Nordica Republic.

  Nordica was formed when three northern nations merged, bolstered by waves of immigration, tech firms, and weapons manufacturers.

  Compared to Valeslin—Maya’s former home, which lay near Astris, the hyper-modern first capital—Eldrant was different.

  Old streets, decaying ruins, and among them, high-tech buildings like Luna Nordics.

  “I like old cities like this. Makes me feel at peace. How about you?” Emma asked.

  “Valeslin looked clean, but always felt… watched.

  This place feels chaotic, but I don’t hate it.”

  Maya answered honestly.

  They passed a wall scrawled with graffiti: Freedom from surveillance! In Valeslin, graffiti was a criminal offense.

  Maya found this city strangely honest.

  They came across a crumbling Soviet-era base—untouched, left as a “historical monument.”

  “It costs too much to tear down, so the city just leaves it,” Emma explained.

  “Meow.”

  A black cat brushed against Maya’s legs, curling like she was someone it had waited years to see.

  (Cute...)

  She crouched to pet it.

  But then the cat’s ears flattened.

  It hissed—not at her, but at something behind her.

  She spun around.

  There was only an empty street.

  And yet, the hairs on her arms refuse to lie flat.

  She reached out again.

  The cat looked up—right into her eyes.

  And doesn’t blink.

  For a second, Maya feels something strange.

  Like it recognizes her.

  “Excuse me!”

  A girl ran from a nearby flower shop. Blonde ponytail, late teens, cheerful.

  “She’s mine,” she said, scooping the cat up gently. It squirmed, protesting with a soft growl.

  “What’s her name?” Maya asked.

  “Levi. She always runs up to beautiful women,” the girl added with an embarrassed smile.

  Emma chuckled, scratching Levi’s ear. “You little flirt.”

  “You should listen to your owner,” Maya said, reaching out again.

  Her hand was just inches from Levi’s fur—

  When a voice slices through the air.

  “…You’ve got some nerve, talking about obedience.”

  Male. Cold. Familiar.

  Too familiar.

  Maya freezes.

  No one else sounds like that.

  She turns.

  And time collapses.

  It’s him.

  Ezekiel.

  Alive.

  Smiling.

  Beside him stands a man in a dark suit and sunglasses, grinning like he’s found something delicious.

  Her knees buckle.

  Her lungs forget how to breathe.

  Everything goes quiet—except the pounding in her skull.

  The nightmare hasn’t returned.

  It never left.

  Thank you for reading Chapter 7 of HELL’S RETURNERS.

  Your support means everything.

  Stay with her.

  check out my Substack article here:

  https://open.substack.com/pub/knishi2050/p/why-i-wrote-hells-returners?r=5wfkgu&utm_medium=ios)

  —K. Nishi