Asia Vieira as Space Zombie Jock

Stainless Steel Rat, as if not noticing my impulse, continued:

"I don't know what exactly you'll see. In a sense, it's up to you."

"Hallucinations? Is this some kind of joke?" I couldn't understand what he was trying to say. My voice sounded like I didn't believe my own words, but at the same time I couldn't stop.

"No," he said quietly, clenching his hands into fists. "This is real. Don't… don't attack. Remember that. Don't panic. Just… be prepared."

"What are you saying?!" I didn't recognize my voice, didn't know what or how to react to these strange, frightening words. I felt like he was leaving me on the brink of madness.

He looked at me again, his face now almost expressionless, empty and disfigured with fatigue. He exhaled, and then said:

"We are not on Earth."

"What's wrong with Giba-Ryan?" I asked, unable to contain the tension any longer.

He remained silent, not looking up. Only his fingers, nervously fingering something on the table, revealed that he had heard my question.

"What is Sartorius doing?" I insisted, trying to get him to answer somehow.

He was silent for a moment, and then finally said:

"Come back in an hour."

I felt my irritation begin to build. It was all too confusing, and I wasn't going to wait. I turned around and walked towards the door. But before I left, I couldn't help but look at him again.

The Stainless Steel Rat sat hunched over, his hands covering his face, as if he were trying to hide from the world. His posture was so painfully familiar, like that of a cornered animal. His thin, withered fingers trembled. I didn't know what had happened to him, but it was obvious that it wasn't just fear - it was panic, some kind of cruel threat that had paralyzed him.

He raised his head and met my gaze for a moment. I saw something inexplicable, almost inhuman, in his eyes. And there was no fear or hatred in that look - only helplessness.

"You shouldn't go there," he said quietly, but his words were full of despair.

I didn't know what it meant, but I couldn't help but notice how his words permeated my entire being. Something in his tone made me doubt what I was seeing.

The circular corridor was empty, as was everything around it. Only the sound of my breathing broke this strange, oppressive silence. For a moment I stood before the closed door, listening. The whole world seemed to retreat in that moment. The walls were thin, and through them came the cry of the wind - as if this station were not part of the planet, but something temporary, alien, creaking and settling in the shadows.

I noticed a rectangular piece of plaster on the door, stuck on with a kind of indifference. Right on it, slightly crooked, was written one word: "ANTICHRIST".

The writing was sloppy, penciled in, as if hastily scratched into wet glass. Such marks often tend to bear the weight of time - and despite its apparent carelessness, it suddenly gave me a sense of unease. I felt uneasy, as if I had stumbled upon something ancient and dangerous, hidden and sealed from prying eyes.

My gaze kept catching on the words, but I barely managed to restrain myself from turning back to the Stainless Steel Rat and demanding an explanation from him. How many times had I tried to figure out what was happening here, but each time it only got worse.

The thoughts that came back to me with that inscription pressed on me with every new breath. Too many questions, too many hidden warnings. None of it seemed random. I didn't know what exactly I wanted to find, but I intuitively felt that going back would be inappropriate.

Stepping forward, I touched the door handle. But it was all so illusory - I felt that some other world, dangerous and hidden, was waiting for me beyond this threshold.

And suddenly, as if from nowhere, a girl ran down the corridor. Small, dark-haired, no more than eight years old. Her brown dress fluttered behind her, and her steps were so quick and light that they sounded like the rustle of a glass chandelier shaking in a strong wind.

She didn't notice me, or perhaps she didn't care, as she ran past. I froze, trying to process what had just happened. She didn't look like anyone who could be here - too clear, almost unnatural an image, as if she were part of this place, from some other dimension.

I wanted to call out to her, but the words died on my tongue. The girl disappeared as suddenly as she had appeared, disappearing around the corner of the corridor, leaving behind only echoes of the ease of her movements, as if she were not walking, but floating.

My heart started beating faster. This was more than just a chance encounter with a child in this cold, empty place. What was she doing here? And how did she manage to disappear into space like she was part of this dark, dead station?

I stood in the shadows, listening to my inner voice that told me: don't move, don't follow her, don't reveal anything you shouldn't see.

Stainless Steel Rat was telling the truth. The honest truth, which was unexpected for a man with a rodent nickname. But it was true. I stood in the hallway, aware that everything around me might not be what it seemed. And at the same time, it was absolutely real, tangible. I could see anything. And this little girl running down the hallway was perhaps just the beginning of what I was about to experience.

I moved forward slowly, and my steps seemed dull and heavy, as if the sound was being absorbed by this place. Everything around was saturated with a strange cold, and the air became denser and denser, as if it itself was part of this universe, where the boundaries of reality and absurdity were blurred.

My hand trembled as I touched the door. The gesture was so simple, but there was something symbolic about it-an opening. An opening that could lead me anywhere. I knew it would probably be something terrible, but I also knew that if I didn't open it, if I didn't move on, I would remain forever in this state of limbo.