Acheron stepped in slowly, eyes wide with childlike awe; he didn't try to hide this time. Midnight blue walls. A ceiling covered in luminescent stars, lightly glowing in the darkened room. Three walls held paintings of moon phases: a full moon, a waxing crescent, and a waning gibbous, all painted with the same glowing material as the stars, though they were strangely dull and dark.
But what stole both their breath was the large chest at the far end of the room. Iron-bound, thick chain looped around it several times, lock and all. Looking very much like something out of an old myth.
Scattered around the space were small hand-held mirrors mounted on tiny stands. They could swivel in every direction like they were waiting to be rearranged. From the centre of the ceiling, a single bright beam of light shone straight down, into a perfect circle on the floor.
Aviv let out a low whistle. "Wow… this looks kinda magical."
Acheron stepped past him, eyes fixed on the constellation-painted ceiling, his expression soft, almost glowing in the dim light. "I like it," he murmured. "It feels… peaceful."
Aviv smiled sideways at him. "Yeah. It suits you."
Acheron couldn't help but flush again. Which, of course, made Aviv grin.
The final puzzle awaited.
"Aaagh." Aviv groaned dramatically as he rubbed the centre of his forehead. "My head is killing me. I swear, if I look at one more clue, I'm gonna start seeing numbers when I blink."
Acheron snorted. "You've hardly solved any."
Aviv shot him a look of wounded betrayal, then shoved Acheron lightly in the shoulder, playfully. "Wow. Mean. Harsh words from the golden child of puzzle-solving."
He stomped off with fake indignation toward the chained chest, tugging at the thick lock as though brute force might finally work for him today. "Man, I really hoped they had forgotten to actually lock it," he mumbled, disappointed.
Acheron couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. It was quiet but bright, the kind that appeared when he wasn't guarding his expressions. He drifted toward the foot of the beam of light streaming down from the ceiling, lifting his pale hands into it. The light caught on his pale fingers, scattering faint reflections across the walls.
An idea sparked in his eyes.
He moved quickly, grabbing one of the handheld mirrors and placing it directly under the beam. He angled it carefully, tilting his head with that soft, focused concentration. The reflected beam shot across the room, landing directly on the full moon painting.
About thirty seconds later, the full moon began to glow. First only faintly, but it gradually grew brighter.
"There we go…" Acheron whispered, pleased.
He spotted a nail above the moon and hung a second mirror there. The reflected beam bounced to the second wall, lighting up the waxing crescent.
Aviv, now lying on the floor fiddling with another fallen hairpin (one of several he found within his pockets), only realised something was happening when the room around him flashed brighter.
He sat up, blinking. "What did you—oh." His eyes widened. "Oh. You're doing magic."
Acheron pretended he didn't flush. "It's just light."
"Yeah," Aviv muttered, "and I'm just tall."
The third mirror didn't hit the last moon automatically. Acheron lifted it in both hands, adjusting the angle again and again, tongue poking out slightly in concentration. A tiny, involuntary detail that made Aviv grin.
Finally, the beam hit.
But Acheron didn't have a free hand to hang the mirror.
"You might have to do the next part by yourself," he said, holding the mirror steady. "If I move, it'll break the—"
Before he finished his sentence, a soft chime echoed around them. The heavy clanking of loosening chains followed.
"Oh. Or maybe not," Acheron said, deflating with a shy laugh.
Aviv bounced to his feet, surprisingly gentle as he took the mirror from Acheron's hands so he could relax his arms. The chest sat unbound now, its lid heavy and still locked. Aviv pulled the key that they had found in the kitchen's oven safe and seamlessly unblocked it. They sat tightly together, fingers brushing as they lifted the lid, Acheron's touch hesitant while Aviv's was warm and steady.
Inside, on a plush red pillow, sat a deep blue crystal, shimmering like frozen moonlight. Probably plastic, but it was beautiful enough to fool them for a second.
Aviv picked it up with trembling hands, awe brightening his expression, right until the flashing red lights exploded across the attic.
A deafening rumble boomed from hidden speakers, vibrating the floorboards.
A calm woman's voice began counting down from sixty.
Acheron stiffened. "Oh no."
Aviv stared at the crystal, then at the lights, then at Acheron.
"Did… did we just trigger the self-destruct sequence?"
"It's a timed escape room," Acheron reminded softly, voice tight with panic.
"Yeah," Aviv responded, still looking at the crystal in his hands in confusion.
Acheron grabbed his wrist. "Move, Viv!"
Both Omegas shot into action, practically tripping over their own feet as they bolted down the attic steps. The living room lights flashed red in frantic pulses, making the whole cabin look like it was auditioning for a low-budget horror film. They skidded toward the front door—only to find it firmly closed, deadlocked, and exceptionally unhelpful.
Acheron's breath hitched. "It's locked—why is it still locked?"
Aviv spun on his heel, eyes darting. "Because of course it is. Why make it easy at the end?"
He spotted the pedestal beside the door, with a small chest on it, a perfect twin of the one from the attic, complete with the same dramatic red cushion. Aviv scrambled over and, with the grace of a baby deer on an icy pond, slapped the crystal onto the pillow. The pedestal wobbled dangerously; Acheron squeaked under his breath as he darted forward with his hands out, prepared to catch it.
Fortunately, the crystal settled. Barely.
Immediately, all the chaos died.
The red lights flickered off.
The rumbling cut out.
The speakers clicked silent.
And the front door swung open with a dramatic flourish.
The young beta receptionist from earlier stood on the other side, practically vibrating with excitement. "Congratulations! You completed The Vanishing Cabin with…" She paused for unnecessary suspense. "Only twenty-five seconds to spare!"
She handed them each a goodie bag filled with stickers and T-shirts with cute art of a wooden cabin nestled in trees.
"You two actually broke a record," she added brightly. "For the… uh… closest run-out time. Like— ever."
Aviv put a hand over his heart. "Wow. I didn't think they gave out prizes for being a disaster."
"We usually don't," she admitted, grinning. "But I loved watching your run. You two were hilarious."
Her gaze lingered on Aviv a second too long; it was soft but still with interest and way too flirty for Aviv's liking.
Aviv blinked. Acheron blinked harder.
Aviv cleared his throat and, without any subtlety in the world, hooked an arm around Acheron's waist and pulled him flush to his side. Acheron let out a tiny, startled sound, not quite a squeak but not quite a gasp either, and then went very still, pink blooming along his cheeks.
The receptionist noticed. Her smile faltered a millisecond before resurfacing, glued-on and professional. "Well! I'll walk you out. Thank you so much for playing."
She guided them back to the front of the store, wished them a lovely rest of their day, and waved them off.
Outside, Aviv finally dropped his arm, cheeks dusky with embarrassment. "Sorry for… uh. Grabbing you. I should've asked. I just… wanted to let her down softly."
Acheron shook his head gently. "It's okay. I would've done the same."
Aviv's face broke into a relieved grin. "Good. I didn't want to make things weird."
"You didn't," Acheron murmured, and he meant it.
Aviv shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels. "So… want to grab some coffee before you go?"
Acheron's lips quirked. "Yeah. I'd like that."
"Perfect." Aviv bumped their shoulders together as they walked, clearly still riding the high of their near-disaster escape. "And maybe a pastry. I burned at least four calories in there."
Acheron huffed out a small laugh, although barely a sound, but it was enough for Aviv to hear, and a smile bloomed across his lips.