I woke up with a migraine pounding behind my eyes like a marching band made of hammers. The world spun for a second before it focused.

The room around me was... pink. Not pastel pink. Not "cotton candy at the carnival" pink. This was intense, aggressive pink—like someone had tried to decorate using only bubblegum and Barbie packaging as inspiration. Even the light had a rosy tint, like the sun outside had been dipped in strawberry syrup.

In the far corner of the room, I spotted something lying still on a small, flower-covered bed. I stood slowly—legs wobbling like cooked spaghetti—and crept toward it. My head throbbed, and my legs didn't feel like they were quite mine.

As I got closer, the lump came into focus.

It was Mikayla.

She was curled up under a blanket, her messy curls spilling out onto a heart-patterned pillow.

"Mikayla!" I shouted, all pain and panic forgotten. I lunged to her side, shaking her gently. "Wake up, Mikayla!"

She blinked slowly, like a confused kitten waking from a nap. Her eyes met mine and went wide.
"Hi, big brother..." she mumbled, then tilted her head. "Wait... Cory? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," I said, though my voice sounded weird. Like someone had turned the pitch knob and added a sprinkle of glitter. I coughed, trying to clear my throat—and then something in my brain finally screamed: check the mirror.

I spun around and spotted a long oval mirror built into the wall. My feet dragged me toward it like I was on a slow-motion conveyor belt of doom.

The reflection made me stop cold.

I looked like a girl. Not just any girl—a pretty one. Shoulder-length auburn hair, big eyes, tiny nose, pajamas made of shimmering rainbow fabric that definitely weren't mine, and—

I looked down between my legs.
And screamed.

"This can't be happening! I can't be a girl!"

Mikayla burst out laughing.

"It's not funny!" I snapped, flailing my arms. "I'm supposed to be a boy!"

"You're still my brother," she said through giggles. "You just look like my sister now."

Before I could respond, the wall to our right slid open with a soft whoosh, and a metal creature rolled in. It looked like a trash can and a coffee machine had a baby—complete with blinking lights, extendable limbs, and a smiley face projected onto a screen.

It hummed cheerfully and rolled up to us with a tray floating just above its head. On the tray were muffins, donuts, cupcakes, and tiny glasses of what I hoped was milk.

Mikayla clapped her hands. "Yay! Breakfast!"

"Don't eat it!" I shouted, reaching out. "It could be poisoned or mind-controlled or... or from space!"

But she'd already taken a cupcake. Too late. It was halfway to her face.

"Mmm," she said with a happy little hum. "It's got sprinkles inside."

The robot turned to me and offered a doughnut with tiny pink hearts on it.

I stared at it suspiciously. Then at Mikayla—who looked about as poisoned as a golden retriever in a sunbeam.

My stomach growled.

"Fine," I muttered. I snatched the doughnut and took a cautious bite.

It was... incredible. Like biting into a sugar cloud baked by angels with a culinary degree. My willpower crumbled faster than the frosting, and before I knew it, I had a cupcake in one hand and a donut in the other. "Okay, yeah," I mumbled with my mouth full. "This is stupidly good."

The robot beeped and rolled out of the room like its job was done. I ran after it and reached the wall just as it closed again.

There was no visible seam. No doorknob. No handle. Nothing but smooth pink wall.

Mikayla was now sitting at a tiny glass table, pouring milk into a glittery teacup like she was hosting a fairy princess brunch.

I sighed and sat beside her. She gave me a sideways glance and grinned. "Yeah, I know," I grumbled. "I look like a girl."

"A pretty one, as a matter of fact," she said with a smirk.

"Don't rub it in." I bit into another muffin.

We sat in silence for a few seconds, munching. The food was good. I started wondering if it was enchanted or genetically engineered. Or both.

"You have any idea how we got here?" I finally asked.

Mikayla tilted her head, milk mustache forming. "Well... I was petting the kitty. Then you left. Then poof—I was here. And you were a girl."

She blinked. "How did you get here?"

"I opened the back door, looking for you, and got knocked out by something. Then I woke up in this crazy labyrinth. With birds the size of cars and walls that move. It was like... some fantasy puzzle nightmare."

Mikayla stared blankly.

"It's like a giant confusing maze," I clarified.

"Ohhh." She nodded, very seriously. "Cool."

Before I could explain more, a section of the wall flickered—and an invisible TV screen lit up.

A woman appeared on the screen. She looked human. Sort of. Too perfect. Too still. Her hair didn't move. Her eyes didn't blink. And she smiled like someone who had practiced it in a mirror for a hundred years.

"I see you have finally made yourselves at home," she said, in a voice like soft jazz and frozen yogurt.

I jumped up. "Why are we here? Why did you take us? And—most of all—why am I a girl?!"

She ignored the outburst entirely.

"Welcome to Saclaurilia," she said, still smiling. "We hope you are both feeling comfortable and enjoying your breakfast. The time is 08:31."

Mikayla waved. "Hi, weird lady!"

"Why did you bring us here?!" I tried again.

"I cannot answer your questions at this time," she said, her tone still syrupy. "But I will answer them shortly."

"But—!" I started.

"Later." The screen vanished.

I stood there, fuming, staring at the wall. There wasn't even a seam or screen frame to suggest where the display had come from. Just more pink.

This room was officially weird. And possibly evil.

I turned back to Mikayla, who now had crumbs on her face and a milk mustache. She beamed at me like this was the best sleepover ever.

I sat back down, defeated, and reached for another muffin. "We're so doomed."

When we were done eating, the robot returned with another whoosh. It made a polite dinging sound and collected the tray. I darted toward the door, determined to sneak out while it was still open.

But before I could touch it—ZAP.

"OW!" I cried, yanking my hand back. The shock wasn't just painful—it buzzed through my entire body like my nervous system had decided to moonwalk.

The room spun. I staggered back, everything tilting sideways.

And then...

I collapsed onto the bed.