The sky above Bukovec took on a shade of steel blue as Marta stopped her bike at a rusty gate. It was the end of June, and the sun slowly hiding behind the horizon stretched long shadows across the dirt road. Tom arrived moments after her. He leaned his bike against an old fence and, without saying a word, glanced towards the building that had fascinated everyone in the area for years - an abandoned school, built before the war, then turned into a warehouse and now - deteriorating, entwined with ivy and gossip. Behind them came the rest of the pack: Maja, who always carried a sketchbook with her, and Igor, gazing at his phone screen but now clearly intrigued. The rumour was that someone had seen a light inside, although none of the windows had glass. - Shall we check it out? - chuckled Tom, in a slightly nervous tone. No one answered. They entered through an ajar gate, which creaked as if to warn of what awaited inside. The corridor smelled of dust and the past. The echoes of footsteps echoed strangely, as if the walls could absorb sounds and then give them back at a completely different time. On the blackboard in the former classroom, someone had written a sentence in chalk: "Imagine this place alive". Next to it lay an old, open book, the pages of which trembled as soon as Maja put her hand on it. - Do you think someone is here? - whispered Marta. - Why are there so many papers here? - puzzled Igor, looking at the scattered sheets of paper with unfamiliar drawings on them: strange landscapes, non-existent creatures, fragments of places that looked too real to be made up, but too fantastic to really exist. Then they heard a quiet whisper coming from behind a closed door at the end of the corridor. A whisper that repeated their names, in a voice reminiscent of echoing thoughts. Martha felt a chill run down her spine. Maja dared to take a step forward, and with every movement she made, the walls seemed to pulsate with colours and shapes, as if someone had painted them live with their very imagination. They stood in silence, watching their own thoughts materialise on the walls. Igor looked at Tom, and the latter - without a word - opened the door to the room from which the whispers were coming. Beyond the threshold stretched a space that could not exist in this building. It was too vast, too illuminated. Words floated in the air, which arranged themselves into images, and images into things. In the middle, right in front of them, stood a figure dressed in a long coat. She had a glow in her eyes that could light up all the darkness in the world. - 'We have been waiting for you,' the figure said, pointing to a pencil case floating in the air and a few sheets of paper that were just beginning to form a new story. At that moment, everything around them began to swirl, and each of the friends felt as if something extraordinary was about to begin....