Chapter 3 #2
The door closed behind her, leaving Andrew alone in the quiet wooden room. He stared at it for a long moment. “Safe,” he repeated under his breath.
He leaned back slowly against the bed, wincing as his shoulder protested again.
Nothing about this felt safe. Nothing about it made sense.
Andrew remained on the bed for a few seconds, his eyes fixed on it as if the woman might reappear just as suddenly as she had left. But she didn’t. Nothing happened.
The quiet settled back in, broken only by the soft movement of air through the open windows. “Safe,” he muttered, more to himself than anything else.
He let out a slow breath and shifted carefully, pushing himself upright. The pain was still there, deep and throbbing behind his eyes, sharper along his shoulder, but it had dulled enough that he could move without it overwhelming him.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and paused, letting the dizziness pass. The wooden floor beneath his feet felt warm from the sunlight, solid and reassuring in a way that helped ground him, at least a little.
“Alright,” he said quietly. “Let’s figure this out.” He stood slowly, testing his balance. There was a brief sway, a moment where his body threatened to disagree, but it steadied quickly enough.
Carefully, he made his way toward the window. The curtain shifted in the breeze as he approached, a light, woven fabric that brushed against his arm when he reached out. He pushed it aside and leaned slightly forward, looking out.
At first, his mind didn’t process what he was seeing; it simply refused.
The view didn’t meet any of his expectations.
Instead of ground, there was a vast expanse of green stretching outward in every direction—treetops, dense and endless, their canopies rolling like waves under the wind.
Sunlight poured across them, bright and clean, illuminating layer after layer of leaves.
And beyond that, in the distance, mountains rose sharply against a clear blue sky.
Andrew stared, his brow tightening as he leaned closer. He drew back slightly, his pulse beginning to pick up as the implications settled in. Whatever structure he was in, it wasn’t near the forest floor. It seemed to be built high above it.
As his eyes looked further, shapes began to emerge between the trees. Platforms. Beams. Angled structures that formed what he could only describe as wooden buildings. And not one or two, but many.
They clung to the massive trunks and extended outward from them, connected by narrow walkways and suspended bridges that stretched across open space. The entire layout followed the natural lines of the trees, but there was nothing accidental about it. It was organized and designed.
“A city?” he whispered to himself. Andrew felt disbelief settle in. “This… doesn’t make sense,” he murmured.
He stepped back from the window, turning slowly as his attention shifted inward again.
“This can’t be,” he hissed under his breath.
There had to be something here that explained it.
His gaze landed on the nearby table. He crossed the room and looked down at it, studying everything more closely.
His belongings were exactly where he had seen them before, clean and neatly folded, handled with care. His backpack sat beside them, closed but undisturbed.
But the other items stood out more now. Objects that clearly didn’t belong to him.
A shallow wooden bowl with carved patterns running along its edge. A length of woven fabric, softer and more intricate than it had first appeared. A few small tools or implements, their purpose unclear, shaped in ways that didn’t match anything he recognized from modern gear.
Everything looked handmade. Not exactly primitive, but crafted differently without metal, without visible fastenings, and relying on shaping and fitting instead.
Andrew picked up one of the smaller objects, turning it over in his hand. It was smooth and balanced. He set it back down.
His eyes shifted to the door again: the same door the woman had just walked through.
Andrew hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and reached for it.
It wasn’t locked. He opened it carefully, and stepped outside.
The platform he stood on extended out from the trunk of an enormous tree, wide enough to support not just the structure behind him but open space as well. From there, the rest of the city spread outward in layers, each section built into or around the surrounding trees.
Walkways curved and branched in multiple directions, linking platforms at different heights.
Bridges stretched across open air, some narrow, others wide enough for multiple people to pass comfortably.
Structures that looked like housing rose at varying levels.
Some were close, others farther out, forming a network that felt both organic and designed.
Andrew stepped forward slowly, his eyes tracking along one of the connecting paths as it led toward another cluster of structures.
That was when he noticed movement.
People.
They moved along the walkways, crossing between platforms, carrying items, talking in small groups. The sound of activity reached him faintly now, that of voices, footsteps, the subtle rhythm of a place in motion.
At least I’m not alone with that girl.
But as he watched more closely, something began to stand out. At first, it was just a vague impression, but the more he looked around, the more it became clear.
Every person he could see was a woman.
He frowned, scanning again to be sure he wasn’t missing something.
A group passing along a nearby bridge: women. Two figures working together on a higher platform: women. Another further out, moving between structures: again, a woman.
And they were dressed like her. The same style of clothing; light and minimal, made from cloth that left arms bare, midsections exposed, legs mostly uncovered.
It looked practical for movement, suited to the environment, but also far more revealing than anything he was used to seeing in everyday life.
No one seemed uncomfortable or out of place.
Until someone noticed him.
A woman walking along a nearby walkway slowed, her gaze shifting in his direction. She stopped, her expression changing as she focused on him more clearly.
Another followed her line of sight. Then another. The shift spread gradually, but unmistakably.
Movement slowed. Conversations faltered. Attention turned. All of it was directed at him.
Andrew became suddenly acutely aware of himself. He was barefoot in nothing but his boxers. Standing out in the open like he had just appeared out of nowhere.
And judging by the way they were looking at him… That might not have been far from the truth.
“You!” a sudden voice yelled. “Get back inside!”
Andrew turned toward the sound, his attention snapping away from the growing number of eyes on him.
The blonde woman was sprinting toward him. She moved fast—faster than he expected—bare feet striking the wood with quick, controlled steps. Her hair trailed behind her as she closed the distance, her face flushed.
“What—?” Andrew started, but she didn’t slow down.
She reached him in seconds and grabbed his arm without hesitation, her grip firm as she pulled him back toward the doorway. “You should not be out here,” she said, her voice lower now but no less intense. “Not like this.”
“Not like—what?” he asked, stumbling a half-step as she tugged him along, his shoulder protesting.
But she didn’t answer. Instead, she cast a quick glance outward, toward the walkways, toward the women who had stopped what they were doing and were now very clearly watching.
“Inside,” she repeated, more firmly this time.
Andrew didn’t resist.
She guided him back through the doorway and into the room, pulling him just far enough in that she could step between him and the open platform. Then she turned and shut the door.
Andrew pulled his arm back gently, more out of reflex than anything else, and looked at her. “Alright,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re going to need to start explaining things.”
Her eyes moved over him. She seemed to hesitate, just for a moment, like she was deciding how much to say. Then she exhaled softly. “You are different,” she said simply.
Andrew let out a chuckle. “Yeah,” he said dryly. “I figured out that much.”
Her eyes flicked briefly toward the door, as if checking something unseen beyond it. “The higher sisters will come,” she continued. “They will explain.”
Andrew crossed his arms instinctively, then winced slightly as his shoulder reminded him that was a bad idea. “Right,” he said. “The ‘higher sisters.’ Still don’t know what that means.”
“You will.” She grabbed his arm again, gentler this time, and guided him toward the bed. “Sit down,” she said, trying to pull him forward.
Andrew kept his gaze on her and didn’t move.
She looked at him. “Please,” she said. There was warmth in her eyes.
He sighed as he gave in and followed her to the bed. He sat down, and she took a seat next to him.
When he looked toward her, she had her eyes on him, big and wide with curiosity.
Andrew felt awkward—not just because of the staring, but also because she was so close to him again, and because he was wearing nothing but his boxers.
“You are a man,” she then said.
He frowned. “Uh, yeah, that’s right…”
Her gaze held that playful curiosity again as she looked downward now, at his body.
Andrew became self-aware when her eyes lingered on his crotch. He turned his body slightly away.
“Do you have… a thing?” she then asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Excuse me?” Andrew blurted out.
“You know,” she said, louder now. “If you are a man, you must have… a thing.”
Andrew could guess what she was referring to, but he couldn’t believe his ears. When her hand touched his thigh, he nearly jumped up.
“Okay, okay,” he said as he moved over slightly. “Let’s not get carried away now.” He turned back toward her. “This is very strange. I am here in the middle of some sort of tree city with only women, and it is freaking me out,” he said, his voice breaking.