Mad Hatter's Guide to Clearing The Game
Chapter 89: Ch87. Pain as a teacher (11) - Stranded

Chapter 89: Ch87. Pain as a teacher (11) - Stranded

The heavy iron door creaked open, and Miles stepped out of The Archivist’s study, his face unreadable. The dim glow of the red sigils along the corridor cast long shadows, stretching out before him like the path he was about to take.

His heart pounded against his ribs, but his mind was steady. He knew what he had to do.

Sarissa and Mara stood waiting a few feet away. Sarissa leaned against the stone wall, arms crossed, her golden eyes sharp and unreadable. Mara, in contrast, had her hands stuffed into her coat pockets, her usually carefree smirk absent as she studied his expression.

"You were in there for a while," Mara finally spoke, breaking the silence. "Get anything useful?"

Miles took a slow breath. He glanced at them both, hesitating for only a fraction of a second before he spoke.

"I have to leave."

The words hung in the air like a death knell. Mara blinked. Sarissa, however, did not react immediately. Her gaze remained locked on him, her expression frozen in that calculating mask of hers.

Mara was the first to respond.

"The hell do you mean, ’leave’?" She took a step forward, frowning. "The Black market or...?"

"I have to go... Away." Miles met her gaze. "For a while."

Silence.

Sarissa’s lips curled downward slightly, the only indication that she was displeased.

"You’re joking."

"I’m not."

"Of course, you’re not." Sarissa exhaled sharply, tilting her head slightly, her expression cool and composed. "You never take anything seriously, do you?"

Miles clenched his jaw but said nothing. He had expected this. Sarissa had always been like this, cold, methodical, and ruthless in her assessments. To her, the only thing that mattered was strength and results.

"So, let me get this straight," she continued, her tone biting. "You come here, ask for help, get information, and the moment things become complicated, you run?"

Mara frowned.

"Sarissa, that’s not what he-"

"Stay out of this, Mara," Sarissa snapped, eyes still fixed on Miles. "This is between me and him."

"I’m not running." Miles exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to remain calm.

"Aren’t you?" Sarissa scoffed. "You’ve been a weak player since the start, Thorn. Always depending on Diego, always finding excuses, always looking for a way out." She stepped closer, voice lowering. "And now, when you have the chance to prove yourself, when you could finally stand up and fight, you choose to abandon the people who helped you when you asked?"

Miles remained silent.

"Once a weak player, always a weak player." Sarissa’s eyes narrowed.

"Sarissa, that’s enough." Mara hissed under her breath.

"No, let her finish," Miles said quietly. His hands clenched at his sides, but he kept his voice even. "Because when I come back, I want her to remember this moment... I want her to mark her own words."

Sarissa blinked at that, but before she could speak again, Miles turned to Mara. His gaze softened slightly.

"Mara... Can I ask you a favor?"

"What is it?" Mara hesitated but nodded.

"Look after Diego for a while, I can’t take him with me in this one..."

"You’re seriously leaving him behind?" Mara stared at him.

Miles’ throat tightened.

"I don’t want to... But I have to." He looked away, his voice quieter. "I’m not strong enough yet, and I don’t want him to risk his own life to save mine like he did back then."

"You’re a goddamn idiot, you know that?" Mara sighed, running a hand through her silver-dyed hair.

"Yeah, heard that a few times." Miles chuckled faintly.

"...Fine. I’ll keep an eye on him." She nodded, and Miles could swear that her lips curled up ever so slightly.

"Thank you for letting me count on you." Miles nodded, grateful. Then, without another word, he reached into his inventory and pulled out the [Wonderland’s Key].

The corridor dimmed as a strange, eerie light seeped from the key’s edges. The air grew heavier, charged with electricity and an unseen force. Then, as Miles turned the key in midair, a sound, like a clock’s ticking inside a turning lock, echoed around them.

A fissure appeared in the air before him, slowly expanding outward, twisting and stretching until it became a full-fledged, blue portal. The edges shimmered, flickering like the static of a broken screen, colors bleeding into one another in an unnatural display.

Sarissa’s unreadable mask finally cracked. Her eyes widened slightly, her posture stiffening. Mara, standing just beside her, let out a low whistle.

"Well, shit."

"I’ll be back." Miles took one last look at them both.

Then, without another word, he stepped into the portal.

The last thing he saw before the world twisted out of existence was the stunned expressions on their faces. And then, Wonderland swallowed him whole.

However, as soon as he stepped on the other side of the portal, he even was able to see Wonderland. But only from a distance.

Instead of the surreal dreamscape he had expected, he was greeted by towers of twisted metal, cracked stone, and machinery far too advanced to belong to his world, looming like decayed monuments to an age no one remembered around Miles. The air reeked of scorched wires and something acrid, something almost... Organic.

A thick, unnatural fog clung to the ground, curling around rusted wreckage and discarded artifacts like grasping fingers. It was never still, shifting in ways that suggested something was moving within it. Watching. Waiting.

The groan of shifting metal echoed through the wreckage, as if the junk itself was alive. Low, guttural growls rumbled from the shadows between crumbling husks of vehicles and ancient, forgotten constructs. Unseen claws scraped against metal, punctuated by an occasional wet squelch, as if something was feeding in the distance, unseen but undeniably close.

At the heart of that junkyard, strange artifacts pulsed with faint energy, their surfaces covered in glowing symbols that flickered erratically, as if resisting decay.

Some hummed with a language long lost, whispering to those foolish enough to listen. Others lay dormant, their forms twisted and fused with unnatural materials, hinting at a purpose no longer comprehensible.

And beyond the wreckage, past the ruins of machines that should not exist, the shifting shadows moved again.

’Where the hell am I...?’ Miles gulped silently.