The sun slowly pushed its way through the tall windows of Club Netherbrand, casting soft golden streaks across the floor. The Netherlings lay scattered in their little shelters, curled up, still, their small bodies barely more than gentle shadows in the quiet of the morning. Soft footsteps broke the silence, echoing evenly through the room. The figure stopped behind the bar.

When night fell over Club Netherbrand and the lights went out one by one, only the faint, muted glow of the street lanterns outside remained. It slipped through the tall windows and stretched long shadows across the room. The music had long since stopped, and everything suddenly felt much larger and emptier than it did during the day. High up on the tall shelf behind the bar, among countless coffee cups, there was a barely visible glow.

“5, 6, 7…” “Hurry, we have to be quick!” squeaked one Netherling to the others. The small creatures darted back and forth, almost bumping into each other, not knowing where to hide. “18, 19… 20!” Zander opened his eyes and grinned. “I’m coming!” With slow, deliberate steps, the owner of Club Netherbrand walked through the room. He took his time. His fingers slid gently over the wooden tables, feeling the warmth of the familiar material.