Teleport the Devil

Three days had gone by quickly, marked only by Fiona's growing dread. 

The girl was walking slowly with no energy toward Foridian Cafe. Her feet dragged on the sidewalk, shoulders slumped beneath the weight of another unwanted meeting. The cafe's cheerful sign felt like a taunt. 

Inside, the familiar aroma of coffee and pastries filled the air. A handsome guy was already waiting at the usual table near the back, a half-finished espresso before him. He looked annoyingly relaxed. 

"Miss me?" Noah asked as he smiled mischievously, raising his cup in a mock toast as she approached. 

Fiona sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. She pulled out the chair opposite him with unnecessary force. 

"I wish," she muttered, dropping into the seat. 

Fiona sat down with an obvious unhappy feeling. She crossed her arms tightly, avoiding his gaze, her body language screaming reluctance.

"Hey, now, no need to be so gloomy," Noah said in a happy-go-lucky mood, leaning back comfortably. He spun a sugar packet between his fingers. "Tell you what, I will make this easier for you today." 

Fiona's eyes narrowed. 

"What do you mean?" she asked, suspicion etched on her face. She couldn't trust his sudden generosity. 

"Instead of your group or your friends," Noah said, leaning forward slightly and pointing his index finger directly at the girl, "today let's talk about *you*." 

Fiona blinked, taken aback. 

"Me...?" she echoed, confusion replacing some of the suspicion. 

"That's right," Noah confirmed, his smile softening just a fraction. "If we're talking about you, Fiona, then you don't need to feel guilty because you're not betraying anyone, right? It's just personal details." 

A flicker of relief crossed her face. That's true, she thought to herself, the knot in her stomach loosening slightly. But... What kind of thing does he want to know? About my secret? Or... something more personal? Her cheeks warmed slightly at the thought. 

"Why the long silence?" Noah asked, breaking into her thoughts. He rested his chin on his hand. "Come on, don't flatter yourself too much. I didn't mean I want to know about you *that* way." He chuckled softly. "Do you think I'm interested in you or something?" 

Fiona blushed in embarrassment, heat flooding her face. She looked down at the table, mortified he'd guessed where her mind had wandered. 

"Then what do you want to know exactly?!" Fiona said, her voice rising a pitch higher in flustered irritation. 

"Hey now, no need to be angry," Noah said, laughing outright now, clearly enjoying her discomfort. 

What's up with him!? Fiona glared at the handsome guy across the table. He's really messing with my feelings! 

"It's your power," Noah said eventually. "I'm interested in your power. Specifically." 

"My power?" Fiona parroted, her guard instantly snapping back up. 

"If you tell me detailed information about your power," Noah said, his tone becoming businesslike, "I will let you go easily today." He paused, letting the offer sink in. "In fact," he added, "it seems that you're really happy that I delayed our meeting last time, so I'm willing to postpone our next meeting to another three days." 

Fiona gulped. Three whole days free? It sounded too good. 

"Re-really?" she said, hope warring with caution. 

"Well, how is it?" Noah asked with a smile, spreading his hands. "Take it or leave it?" 

Fiona closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The cafe sounds – clinking cups, murmured conversations – seemed distant as she mulled it over. Telling other people about her power was dangerous, she knew that. But then again, Noah had already seen her using it. And it's not like her power was unique or anything earth-shattering. Compared to that... three days of freedom... 

Fiona sighed, opening her eyes. The decision was made. 

"Alright," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "I will tell you." 

"Such a swift decision! I love that," Noah said, genuine appreciation in his tone.

"But," Fiona added quickly, needing assurance, "you won't take it back if my power turns out to be not as interesting as you thought it is, right?" She eyed him warily. 

"Of course," Noah said, waving a dismissive hand. "I won't do such a petty thing. Deal's a deal." 

Fiona sighed again, the sound laced with resignation. "Fine then." 

She stretched her hand out palm-up over the table. With a faint, almost inaudible *ripping* sound, a small, jagged tear appeared in the thin air near her hand. It shimmered faintly, like a heat mirage. 

"As you can see," Fiona said, keeping her eyes on the tear, "I can create a tear that connects to somewhere in another dimension. A pocket space, I guess. I called it [Another Dimension - Safe Box]. I can put stuff inside or take it out like this." 

To demonstrate, Fiona put her hand inside the tear up to her wrist. She rummaged briefly and then pulled out a sleek, well-worn combat knife, placing it carefully on the table between them. 

"That's about it," Fiona said, staring at her knife, avoiding his gaze. "Basically, it's like a safe box that only I can access. It's convenient for carrying things, but nothing fancy. No offensive capabilities." 

"Fascinating," Noah murmured, his eyes fixed intently on the fading tear and then the knife. He looked genuinely intrigued. 

"Re-really?" Fiona said, a little surprised, looking up at him. She'd expected him to be disappointed, maybe even dismissive, after seeing such a utilitarian ability. 

"So how much can you put inside?" Noah asked, his curiosity clearly piqued. "Is there a limit?" 

"I don't know," Fiona admitted, shrugging. "I did try to put a lot of stuff inside once – clothes, books, some tools – but I ran out of things to put in before I could tell if it was actually full or not." She paused. "Not to mention I can't really put big things inside." 

"What do you mean?" Noah asked, tilting his head. 

"There's a limit to how big the tear can be created," she explained, gesturing with her hands to indicate a size roughly the diameter of a large dinner plate. "Stuff like chairs might still fit if I angle them right, but not something like a table or cabinets. Too bulky." 

"I see!" Noah unexpectedly looked really interested, a spark of calculation in his eyes. "What about the tear itself? Can other people's hands enter it too? Or just objects?" 

"No," Fiona said firmly. "Only I can physically interact with the space inside. But..." A slightly defiant, almost challenging look crossed her face. "...you can try it if you're really curious." 

Without waiting, Fiona created another tear in the air directly in front of Noah on the table. 

Noah, without hesitation, tried to put his hand inside. His fingers passed straight through the shimmering rift as if it were a hologram, meeting no resistance and encountering only empty air. 

"I see," Noah said, withdrawing his hand. A thoughtful expression settled on his face. "So that's why you said it was your personal safe box. Truly exclusive access." 

"Well, that's about it," Fiona said, already starting to gather her bag, eager to claim her freedom. "So can I leave now, right?" She pushed her chair back slightly. 

"Not so fast," Noah said, his hand subtly moving to the edge of the table. "I still have a couple more questions." 

"A couple more?" Fiona said. "What's so interesting about my glorified backpack power?" 

"Can you put something like a human inside?" Noah asked, his gaze steady and serious. "A living person?" 

"No," Fiona answered instantly, a flicker of discomfort crossing her features. "Absolutely not. No living being can be put inside. It... it wouldn't work. I can feel that." 

"I see," Noah nodded his head slowly, processing this. "What about a corpse? Something no longer living?" 

Fiona visibly recoiled, her expression tightening. The question felt invasive, morbid. "I..." She swallowed. "I think it's *theoretically* possible," she said slowly, her voice low. "But I've never tried it, so I don't know. And I have zero desire to find out." 

"So," Noah pressed, undeterred by her discomfort, "as long as it's not living, you can put anything in it? No matter what material it's made of? Metal, plastic, organic matter...?" 

"I guess?" Fiona replied, her patience wearing thin. She crossed her arms defensively. "I mean, I didn't try everything yet, obviously, but so far nothing I've put in has been rejected. As long as it fits through the tear, it stores." 

"I see," Noah said. He leaned back, a faint, almost disappointed frown touching his lips. He looked at the knife still lying on the table. "And all you did with that was storing a knife?" He shook his head slightly. "What a waste of power." 

Fiona blinked, stung and confused. "What do you mean?"

"Forget it," Noah said, waving his hand dismissively. He picked up his now-cold espresso. "I think I get a pretty good idea of how your power works now. So," he gestured vaguely towards the door with his cup, "you can go home if you want." A faint, almost teasing smile returned. "Or... you can have some coffee with me? My treat." 

"No thanks," Fiona immediately rejected him, standing up decisively this time, grabbing her knife and slipping it back into her dimensional tear with a swift, practiced motion. 

"Your loss," Noah smirked as he took a slow drink from his cup, watching her hurry towards the exit without a backward glance. The cafe door chimed softly as she pushed through it, escaping into the afternoon sun. 

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