The lights roared to life, flooding the chamber with a sterile brilliance that stabbed straight into their retinas. Five girls squinted, flinched, hissed, and shielded their eyes like five very confused vampires.
Shapes came into focus slowly.
Stone walls.
Wide space.
Dust drifting in the light.
And a woman.
She stood right beside the light switch, hand still hovering in the air as if frozen mid flick. Her skin looked almost luminous under the artificial glow, pale in a way that felt moon touched rather than sickly. Pastel peach hair fell like soft silk around her shoulders. Her eyes were the same warm shade, a gentle color that did not belong underground or anywhere humans were meant to be.
For a second, no one breathed.
She looked too calm. Too graceful.
Too ethereal.
She opened her mouth, ready to speak.
And Mimi destroyed the moment.
"MOMMY."
All four other girls turned their heads toward her with the exact same expression, one that blended judgement, confusion and quiet betrayal.
Mimi blinked back at them, dead serious.
Ragna was the first to break. "This is not the moment to unpack your mommy issues."
Mimi pointed at the woman. "She is glowing."
"That does not make her your mother," Ragna said in a very flat voice.
Neera pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Actually, Freud would say your reaction suggests unresolved—"
Nozomi reacted instantly. She bonked Neera on the head with her twig with the precision of a ninja.
"No Freud. No mothers. Not in the same sentence. Ever."
Neera rubbed her head with a tiny frown. "It was academically relevant."
"No," Nozomi said firmly. "That man haunts dreams."
Meanwhile the mysterious lady stood exactly where she was, watching five girls argue about mommy issues, psychology, and Sigmund Freud in front of her first attempt at dramatic introduction.
She cleared her throat with elegant purpose.
It was not a loud sound, yet somehow all five froze.
Like she had pressed a pause button on their collective chaos.
Her peach colored eyes met theirs one by one, soft and strange, like she was measuring dimensions of their souls.
There was something warm in her expression. Something sad too.
And with the room silent at last, she drew breath, ready to speak properly this time.
The ethereal woman let her hand fall from the switch, eyes drifting slowly over each of them. Her expression held curiosity, calmness and something faintly melancholy beneath the surface.
"Who are you," she asked, voice soft but steady, "and how did you come here."
She gestured toward a long ornate table near the far side of the room. It looked entirely out of place underground, carved wood and velvet backed chairs arranged neatly as if expecting guests for centuries. The invitation was clear.
"Come," she said gently. "Sit. We can speak properly."
Nozomi bowed out of pure habit, already taking a step toward the chairs.
Mimi yanked her arm so fast she squeaked. "Absolutely not. Rule number one of the backrooms is that you do not listen to anyone you meet there."
Everyone stared at her again.
It was becoming a pattern.
Neera pinched the bridge of her nose with the profound weariness of someone who had done this too many times. "Mimi. These are not the backrooms."
Midori gasped and pointed at the walls dramatically. "How do we know that. This could be Level Unknown. The Lost Dining Room. The Eternal Buffet. The Tunnel of Nope."
Ragna stared at her. "You get your information from questionable corners of the internet."
Midori puffed her cheeks. "And proud."
The ethereal woman tilted her head, baffled, pastel hair shifting like mist. "What are backrooms."
Five adults froze like guilty raccoons.
The silence was painful.
Neera opened her mouth, then closed it when she realized nothing she could say would sound sane to an otherworldly stranger. Mimi elbowed Ragna. Ragna stared at the floor. Nozomi looked politely distressed. Midori began sweating.
Finally, someone muttered under their breath.
"The backrooms are... the backrooms."
The woman blinked slowly, as if the explanation only made it worse.
All five shuffled in place, avoiding eye contact with each other and with reality itself.
The room, the lights, the table, the woman watching them with peach colored eyes.
Everything felt too calm and too strange at the same time.
Mimi sighed like she was about to deliver a lecture no one had asked for.
"The backrooms are an urban legend," she explained, waving her hand vaguely. "A weird internet thing about getting stuck behind reality."
Neera jabbed an elbow straight into her ribs.
Mimi choked on air.
"I was not going to say creepypas—"
Another elbow, more forceful.
Mimi winced. "Okay, okay, fine."
The ethereal woman watched the exchange with a gentle bafflement, eyes soft, head slightly tilted. Then she smiled, warm and almost glowing.
She walked to the head of the ornate dining table and sat gracefully, hands folded in her lap.
"My name is Stella," she said in a calm voice. "This is my home."
Mimi's mouth got ahead of her brain again.
"That sounds like something a villain in a fairytale would say, I do not know."
Three heads snapped toward her in synchronized betrayal.
Neera's stare was academic disappointment.
Nozomi's stare was shrine maiden disapproval.
Ragna's stare was tired of living.
Midori whispered loudly. "Mimi, please, we do not insult mysterious women who live in caves."
Mimi shrugged. "I am being honest."
Stella laughed. It was a soft sound, almost musical, and not offended in the slightest.
"You are very brave," she said with a smile. "Or perhaps simply honest. I appreciate both."
She rose from her seat with slow elegance, hands brushing her skirt as she stood.
"I will return in a moment. Make yourselves comfortable."
Before anyone could ask where she was going, she glided toward a doorway at the back of the chamber and disappeared through it, leaving the five of them alone with far too many chairs and far too many questions.
The moment she was gone, chaos resumed.
Mimi leaned forward, whispering in a stage voice. "We cannot trust her. This is how horror movies start."
Neera crossed her arms. "We cannot make assumptions. She has not shown hostility."
Ragna looked toward the exit. "We should consider leaving while she is gone. It is safer."
Midori gasped. "But what if she is a fairy queen. Or a goddess. Or a backrooms entity that can chase us if we run."
Nozomi shivered at the word backrooms. "Can we stop saying that word. I can feel my soul leaving my body."
Mimi propped her chin on her hand. "She really does look like a final boss though. Or a secret NPC. Like she will give us a quest with moral consequences."
Neera sighed, long and tired. "She is just a woman. A very unusual woman in a very underground home but still a woman."
Ragna shook her head. "Normal women do not live behind puzzle doors."
Nozomi nodded slowly. "Yes. She seems kind, but something about her feels… not ordinary."
Midori raised her hand like she was in class. "I vote we stay. She offered chairs. Chairs mean no danger."
Mimi nodded. "Yes, chairs are safe. Except in the backrooms where chairs levitate."
Everyone groaned.
They sat around the table, five adults, barefoot, scraped, confused, and whisper arguing about urban legends, underground lairs, fairy tale villain energy, and the statistically improbable possibility of being eaten by a glowing peach haired woman.
Stella returned so silently that all five nearly jumped when she appeared at the head of the table again. Her arms were full this time, carrying a tray with five glasses of milk and a plate stacked with fresh chocolate chip cookies that were still steaming like they had come straight from an oven that logically should not exist underground.
The reactions were immediate and wildly uncoordinated.
Nozomi stood so fast her chair scraped the floor. "Thank you, truly, but you did not have to trouble yourself," she said with the kind of polite sincerity only shrine upbringing can craft.
Mimi gasped like a child who had just discovered sugar for the first time. "Mommy brought snacks."
Ragna's entire soul left her body. She crossed her arms tightly and glared at the cookies as though they personally insulted her independence. "We are not children."
Midori leaned closer to Mimi with a smirk. "What happened to not eating food offered in the backrooms. This looks very backrooms to me."
Mimi turned bright pink. "That rule applies to suspicious entities. Not to hot ethereal ladies with cookies."
Neera stared at the tray with academic discomfort. "How is there fresh milk here. And warm cookies. This place has no kitchen. Or sunlight. Or cows."
Stella placed the tray gently on the table and began setting the glasses in front of them with a soft smile. Her movements were so gentle and practiced that even Ragna's scowl softened into reluctant curiosity.
The five girls hesitated for only a moment before hunger and exhaustion won. They each picked up a cookie. They sniffed it cautiously. They took small bites.
The cookies tasted perfect.
Not strange.
Not magical.
Warm, soft, buttery with slightly melting chocolate chips.
So normal it felt almost surreal.
Mimi melted into her chair. "Oh my god, I am ascending."
Nozomi held her cookie delicately with both hands, smiling. "It is delicious."
Ragna tried to conceal the fact that she liked it by chewing very slowly with a neutral face, which fooled no one.
Midori happily dunked hers in her milk without asking if that was socially acceptable.
Neera took small analytical bites, trying to detect anything off, but gave up when her brain concluded it was simply very good baking.
Stella took a cookie for herself last. She sat down gracefully, lifted it to her lips and took a quiet bite. Her eyes softened with something warm and distant, like a memory brushing her cheek.
A small, nostalgic smile curved across her face.
For a moment, she looked almost human.
Almost.
The silence stretched for a moment, warm milk in their hands, half eaten cookies on their plates, five tired strangers sharing a table with a woman who felt too gentle to be real and too mysterious to trust.
Midori broke first.
She sat up straight and lifted one hand with dramatic flair, nearly hitting Mimi in the face. "Introductions again. Proper ones this time."
Nozomi gave a polite nod beside her.
"Yes. I am Nozomi. I am twenty," she said softly, hands folded neatly in her lap.
Midori grinned and tapped her own chest. "And I am Midori, I am eighteen, and I do not steal offerings as often as she claims."
Nozomi frowned at her. "You literally ate mochi from the shrine yesterday."
Midori waved this off. "It was tasty."
Mimi raised her hand like she was in a classroom. "Hi, I am Mimi, I am twenty five, and in my free time I am a vtuber."
Ragna blinked. "Why was that necessary to add."
Mimi shrugged. "It is part of my identity. The internet needs me."
Neera pinched the bridge of her nose. "You stream yourself playing games in a fake anime avatar suit with a voice changer."
Mimi placed a hand on her heart. "Exactly. Identity."
Ragna leaned back, arms crossed, expression unreadable. "Ragna. Twenty one."
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Midori whispered to Nozomi. "She is so mysterious."
Nozomi whispered back. "She just does not like talking."
Neera straightened her back slightly before speaking, her tone crisp but polite. "I am Neera. I am twenty three. I am pursuing my masters degree right now."
Stella's peach colored eyes softened as she listened, an expression somewhere between approval and something quieter, something almost like relief.
Five personalities laid gently on the table like cards in a hand.
The air felt a little lighter after that.
Less awkward.
More human.
Stella folded her hands neatly and looked at each of them again, thoughtful and patient.
Stella glanced at something on the thin tablet she carried, scrolling with a practiced motion that looked strangely modern for someone who felt like she belonged in a myth. When she finished, she looked up with a soft smile.
"I am Stella," she said again, tone gentle and warm. "And if you would like to understand where you are, I can show you."
She stood gracefully, skirt rustling like soft fabric over stone, and extended a hand toward them in invitation. One by one they rose, though some with hesitation. Ragna kept her arms folded and her expression neutral. Mimi held her cookie like it was a weapon. Neera walked with rigid posture. Nozomi looked politely anxious. Midori simply bounced on her toes.
They followed Stella into a wide hallway.
Mimi whispered to Ragna, "This is still giving backrooms energy."
Stella heard her. Stella sighed. Very softly.
The first room she showed them was right next to the dining hall.
A living room.
Despite the stone walls and dim lamps, it felt strangely warm. A large sofa dominated the room, soft and dark, and beanbags sat in a semicircle around a low wooden table. Across from them stood a massive flat screen TV. Beneath it, a console rested with two controllers, cords neatly wound.
Midori gasped. "It looks like a sleepover room."
Mimi immediately picked up a beanbag. "I claim this in the name of comfort."
Neera touched the console like she was checking for dust. "How does this even work underground."
Stella simply smiled and moved on.
Next was the kitchen.
At first glance it seemed normal. Fridge. Sink. Counters. Cabinets. Stone floors and walls like every other room. Warm lighting. …Normal enough.
Then they noticed the machine against the far wall.
Tall. Metallic. Panel glowing softly.
A vending machine beside it hummed quietly.
Neera stepped close, eyes narrowing. "Does this label actually say synthesizer?"
Mimi clapped a hand over her mouth. "Like… Star Trek food?"
Ragna stared at the machine with a look that said she had lost her battle against logic. "Maybe this is the backrooms."
Stella merely continued walking.
Next came the library.
Floor to ceiling shelves.
Books in dozens of languages.
Hardcovers, leather bound volumes, old manuscripts.
A PC sat near a reading desk, humming quietly.
Mimi's eyes widened. "This is Hogwarts."
Ragna shook her head. "Hogwarts did not have Windows installed."
Neera was touching spines reverently like the books were holy relics.
Nozomi whispered, "This place is endless."
Midori had already climbed one of the ladders and was scanning the top shelf like a squirrel searching for treasure.
By this point, the girls were getting restless and overwhelmed.
Magic kitchen. Endless library. Gaming room.
Everything was too much, too strange, too impossible.
Stella led them onward.
Down a cobblestone path lined with glowing fungal lamps. The air grew warmer, wetter. Leaves rustled. A dome of glass arched overhead, revealing a greenhouse filled with everything from medicinal herbs to fruit trees.
She walked slowly, pointing out each tree with quiet pride.
"That one is lemon. These are starfruit. Over there are medicinal blossoms I grow for specific purposes. The soil here responds well to regulated moisture and artificial sunlight."
Mimi whispered, "There is a sun in the basement."
Neera whispered back, "Not a real sun. Probably a high spectrum light source."
Midori whispered louder than both of them, "I want to grow strawberries."
Stella continued talking softly about climate control and soil enrichment, unaware that five adults were having an existential breakdown behind her.
Finally, Nozomi stepped forward, hands raised in gentle apology.
"Stella, this is all very beautiful, but our families will worry. We should go home now."
The greenhouse fell quiet.
Stella's peach colored eyes softened, and something unreadable flickered in them, something deep and centuries old.
Stella did not answer Nozomi right away.
Instead, she blinked, almost startled, and checked her tablet again. Her fingers scrolled faster this time, tapping at something like she was trying to make it cooperate. Under her breath, barely audible, she muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Little more. Just a little more."
When she looked up again, the smile on her face was too wide and too quick, like she had stapled it onto herself.
"What is the hurry?" she asked, voice soft but cracking at the edges.
Neera's brows pulled together. Mimi leaned closer to Ragna. Midori tilted her head like a bird sensing weird energy.
Stella suddenly clapped her hands together.
"Come. The living room is more comfortable. Please sit. You should all relax."
She practically shepherded them back down the hallway, her movements unusually rushed for someone who previously moved like drifting moonlight. Before any of them could protest, she was gesturing at the sofa and beanbags with frantic hospitality.
"Here. Sit. Rest. Would you like to watch a movie?"
No one moved.
Stella swallowed and tried again. "Snacks. I can bring more snacks. Anything you want."
Mimi blinked. "Everything okay, ma'am?"
"Perfectly okay," Stella said too fast, her voice louder, her smile tighter. "What about a game? I can set up a game for you. Or music. You can listen to music. Or sit. Sitting is good."
Five women looked at her.
Then at each other.
Then back at her.
Even Ragna, who was the least expressive among them, looked vaguely concerned. Nozomi was shifting her weight like she was preparing to intervene gently. Neera frowned with growing suspicion. Mimi raised both eyebrows so high they nearly touched her hairline. Midori whispered one single word.
"Sussy."
Mimi nodded immediately, hands clasped in solemn agreement. "Such a sussy baka."
Stella froze for a microsecond, eyes widening in pure, exhausted confusion. She smoothed her skirt, cleared her throat and tried again, voice softer now, almost pleading.
"I can also give you a manicure. If you like. I have nail kits. Many colors."
The silence that followed was unreal.
Mimi slowly turned her head to the others with the expression of someone watching a dignity speedrun fail.
Ragna shifted her weight.
Neera inhaled sharply.
Nozomi bit her lip in concern.
Midori nodded like she was witnessing a meltdown in real time.
Stella clasped her hands tighter, fingers trembling slightly.
Something was wrong.
Stella's fingers flew over the tablet again, checking something with frantic precision, eyes darting across the glowing screen like she was running out of time. She barely noticed the shift in the room until three steps echoed closer.
Neera cleared her throat gently, but the sound carried more weight than the underground air could hold.
Ragna stood beside her, one hand on her hip, posture sharp and firm.
"We want to leave," she said, voice steady and uncompromising.
Nozomi joined them, her expression calm but resolute, hands clasped in front of her as though she was ready to mediate if things went wrong. The three of them together created a quiet wall of determination Stella could no longer pretend not to see.
Stella paused.
The tapping stopped.
Her shoulders lowered an inch.
She looked up at them, and the smile she had been forcing for the past ten minutes simply dissolved. No cracks this time. No polite softness. Just a long, exhausted exhale that felt like surrender.
"Please," she said quietly, her voice stripped bare of its earlier warmth. "Sit."
They hesitated, then slowly moved toward the sofa and beanbags, tension crackling in the air as they obeyed. Stella stepped back a few paces, clutching her tablet against her chest, her eyes lowering to the ground.
For the first time, she looked less ethereal and more painfully human.
"I have been hiding something from you," she said, voice trembling just enough to betray the truth behind it. "And you deserve to know."