Houdini stopped digging at my arm and looked at Hatter, like he was expecting a pusible answer. Hatter raised his eyebrow at him, a brief gnce passing between them. For a moment, I thought I saw something, like they were communicating without words. Then, Hatter turned away, breaking the connection.  “I’m not sure what is going to happen next,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck with his gun. “Not exactly anyway.” I stopped walking instantly; my heart felt as if it were in my throat. I met his gaze, needing more than a vague answer. “You know," he continued, nervously gncing away, "...not even the Guardians know how this will all turn out. That’s why they showed up for what was supposed to be an intimate test challenge.” Hatter smiled wildly at the sky, as if it could somehow give him the answers he didn’t have. This was not making me feel better; but Guardians? Is that what you call yourselves? I began walking slower this time, a little unsure of my future and how much of it I had left. A few leaves from the trees above us floated zily in the air, then frozen- as if time itself had taken a pause. The chill in the air seemed sharper, the stillness around us was heavier than it had been before; the weight of the silence was oppressive. I have so many questions, where do I even start? Will he even tell me honestly? I have to at least try. The leaves finally fell down as we approached them. I gnced at Hatter, trying to gauge how “normal” this was. It didn’t help. He didn’t seem bothered by the oddity of it. In fact, it felt like he was used to it. Maybe I can start with a joke? "So, is perpetual twilight just a vibe around here? I feel like we've been walking for hours, but the sun hasn't really moved." I nervously ughed and gestured with Houdini toward the sky. “Wondernd doesn’t work the way you’re used to,” Hatter said, his voice cutting through the quiet. “It’s unpredictable. Plus the trials... they choose themselves, not always in the order you expect. You’ll be torn down, piece by piece, before anything is rebuilt.” I frowned, wanting more, needing more. “Fight yourself as much as anything else,” he added. “You might think you know what to expect, but Wondernd will make sure you don’t.” He started cackling. I felt a cold knot form in my stomach. His ughter interrupted as Frankie chomped down on his arm, her little teeth leaving a bite mark. He stopped and looked sheepishly down to her, "My apologies dear. The point is- the only thing you can be sure of here is that nothing is as it seems. Not the ground, not the air, not even the sky. Trust yourself to notice the changes before they pull you apart." “And time?” I asked, trying not to sound as terrified as I was. “How does time work here?” I started stroking Houdini's ear, trying not to think the worst.  “Ah…” Hatter’s voice dropped lower, as if considering his words. “Time here is... strange. Sometimes it’s an ally, sometimes an enemy. It stretches, compresses, loops. You’ll feel like hours have passed, but only minutes. Or the other way around. Sometimes it doesn’t feel real at all.” I could already feel the pressure building as the air around me started to shift again. It was as if just talking about it, was waking the world up. Our footsteps were echoing around us, like we were walking down a narrow hallway. “There’s a part of Wondernd where things,” he said, “don’t even exist until you look at them.”  I blinked. “What do you mean?”  He gestured vaguely at the trees around us, some of them flickering in and out of focus. “Exactly like that. If you look away long enough, the world can change right under your nose. Or disappear entirely.” "Is this because of the "Stages" that Evander was talking about?" Still unsure of what that term really meant. Stages like putting on a show? But for who- or more importantly, why? "I'm not sure really, the Stages maybe were here before things went wonky, but our memories are twisted now. The Stages are… parts of this world, or maybe of us, things that have been twisted or broken. They’ve been around long before I got here. I think... Really, the oldest one here who might have the answers is not usually at the right time so we can't get a straight answer on the topic without things going berserk. So, we don't know if it's because of the Stages or because it's simply Wondernd. Who's to say which came first, the Stages or the Guardians?" He said with deep concern and his hat flickering quickly through styles, like each version was trying to remember something long since forgotten.  A flicker of fear ran down my spine as I realized something— my memories, thoughts—started to feel like they were slipping away, too. “Could it be erasing me?” I whispered, not entirely sure if I even meant to say it out loud. Hatter’s eyes darkened slightly, as though he understood the question but wasn’t sure how to answer it. The forest scene around us started to warp, almost like it was melting into a new form. The sound of birds came to a halt. I had stopped walking and had started panting hard, feeling the wave of nausea coming along with a panic attack on its heels. “It doesn’t work like that, not yet anyway.” He said softly, he had holstered his gun finally. “But you’ll have to trust your senses, Katrina. They’re the only thing keeping you anchored.” The forest around us snapped back to its original shape; the sound of crickets and toads now sung through the air. Houdini looked up to me and fred his nose with a steady beat. I started breathing in counts of 4 to his breathing, finally gaining my composure. Perhaps I'll have better luck if he's my anchor.