Their calls cut through the fog of his mind. 

Then waves. Rolling, steady, endless. A rhythm that almost felt like breathing. 

Wind brushed against his skin, carrying the heavy scent of salt. Each shift of the breeze dragged new sensations across his skin. Grains of sand clung stubbornly to his palms and sleeve, tickling and irritating at once. His head throbbed with a dull ache, but the more he focused on the world around him, the more he pulled out of the abyss of unconsciousness. 

His lips parted. 

"My head." The groan slipped out before he could stop it.

Slowly, he pushed onto his knees, breath uneven. 

His palms pressed against the sand, warm, dry.

Wait... dry?

He blinked. His clothes were untouched by seawater. Not a single drop clung to him, even though he had woken on the shore.

Had that magic shielded him?  

He lifted his gaze.

Behind him stood a forest, its trees dark and dense, the canopy a curtain of green that blocked out the light. Ahead, the sea stretched endlessly, a mirror of glittering silver-blue. And beyond it all, mountains. They towered far in the distance, their jagged peaks wrapped in layers of mist that refused to break. 

And above them...

His breath caught.

The sky glowed in a shade of blue he had never seen before, bright, endless, alive. Clouds curled into a perfect ring, spiraling around the horizon like a crown, as though the heavens themselves had chosen to wear an ornament only the chosen could see. 

The sun rested warm on his skin. The breeze carried no malice. For the first time since losing Lira, he felt... peace.

Where he came from, it was always night. He had never known how beautiful the sun truly was.

This feeling of peace. It was strange. 

No strife? No... fighting?

This was nothing like his home world.

He wanted to stay...

He took a slow, cautious step toward the shoreline. The sand sank beneath his boots with a satisfying softness, each step grounding him in this strange new world. 

He tilted his head, scanning the horizon.

But peace never lasted. He would need to keep his guard up and fight his way to find Lira.

A small gull cried overhead, wings beating against the wind. Its shadow danced on the sand, momentarily splitting the reflection of the sun into tiny shards.

He crouched, letting his fingers touch the surface of the waves. The water felt alive, brushing against his skin like liquid light. He flinched at the sensation, both startled and soothed.

Too calm.

A sigh escaped him. He had survived the fall. Somehow he had been delivered here. His mind raced with questions, though the calm of the scene tried to quiet them.

How far had he fallen?

Where exactly was this place?

And most importantly...

How was Lira faring? 

***

Far beyond the forest, a red haired man clad in deep a purple cloak and mantle stood atop one of the floating islands suspended high above the sea, its top covered in forest. His boots sank slightly into the grass as he stared upward at the place where the mysterious door had been. 

The clouds above still twisted faintly, stirred by its passing.

Donal exhaled slowly, his voice low, almost mournful.

"So, the Scorpion's Heart has finally crossed the threshold."

He let the words hang in the air before lowering his gaze to the ground. A quiet sigh left him, his cloak swaying in the high winds like a shadow given life. 

A second figure lingered nearby. White, airy robes drifted around him like smoke, his black eyes sharp against his pale skin. Khor, a demon, oath-bound, and Donal's closest ally, studied the sky with a frown. 

"Hmph. Gradivus better not have screwed this up."

Donal chuckled, light but dry. 

"Nah." 

With that, he turned and began walking, the two of them disappearing across the floating isle as the horizon swallowed their silhouettes. 

***

Zorn rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped away from the shoreline. 

The warmth of the sun clung to him still, but the confusion in his chest was heavier than ever. 

"Where... am I? This is getting frustrating."

He gripped his hair in anger, groaning with irritation. 

"What do you want from me!?" 

He screamed up at the sky, pointing at the clouds. The door was nowhere in sight. 

"Huh!? You stupid door! Is this some kind of sick joke to you!?" 

The words vanished, swallowed by gull cries.

Rumble.

His eyes widened as he pressed a hand against his stomach, grimacing. 

"...I'm hungry."

The sound almost echoed, loud enough to startle him. He laughed bitterly.

"Of course. Lost in some unknown world, and my first problem is food."

Still... his legs moved forward on their own.

The forest drew him in. Each step sank into the sand before shifting to soil, then roots and fallen leaves. The change in the ground was strange, almost too sudden, but he had no time to question it. Hunger pressed him on.

Branches swayed above. Sunlight cut through the canopy in thin, golden spears. Insects buzzed unseen.

Zorn walked, half in awe, half in fear. 

Was this what a forest looked like in the light!?

The trees were massive. Their trunks rose so high they seemed like pillars carved for gods. Moss clung to them in vibrant sheets, glowing faintly as though they had swallowed fragments of starlight. 

"This place..." His voice cracked. "It doesn't feel real."

And maybe it wasn't. He was in an inverted world.

The magic that dragged him here, the door, couldn't have brought him to an ordinary place.

A bitter thought crept in. Lira... if she were here, she would probably laugh. She would say he overthought everything. 

He shook his head, forcing the thought down.

Focus. Survive. That was all that mattered now.

A cluster of bushes drew his eye. Red fruit, round and glistening, hung low, almost begging to be picked.

He reached out, then stopped. 

What if they were poisonous?

He frowned, staring hard at the fruit. They looked harmless. Tempting, even. His stomach growled again, sharp enough to make him wince.

"Guess... I don't have much choice."

He plucked one. Its skin was smooth, cool. He hesitated for one last second, then bit down.

Sweet.

Shockingly so. The juice burst across his tongue, flooding his mouth with flavor that reminded him faintly of honey, but lighter. Almost addicting.

Before he realized it, he had eaten three.

"...Okay," he muttered, wiping his mouth. "At least I won't die of hunger today."

The forest answered only with silence.

Then—

Snap!

A twig.

He froze.

The sound came from deeper inside. Something moving.

His heart hammered against his ribs. Slowly, he turned his head, scanning the shadows between the trees.

Nothing.

He wasn't scared. He was ready for a fight. Whoever lurked there had no clue where he came from. 

"...Who's there?"

His voice barely carried.

No reply. Only silence.

And yet, he could feel it, eyes. Watching.

Snap!

He quickly turned toward the sound.

"I KNOW HOW TO FIGHT—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

A beaver stared back at him.

"...Beaver."

The beaver gazed with its black beady eyes, holding the same red fruit he had eaten earlier, just munching away.

They both just stared at each other for a moment. The silence stretched between them.

He pointed at the beaver.

"MEAT!"

He launched into a sprint.

The beaver dropped its jaw, letting the fruit tumble. It quickly bolted into the undergrowth. 

"No! Get back here!"

He shouted, lunging after it.

Branches whipped against his arms as he sprinted. Boots slammed against roots and leaves. He could almost taste roasted meat already.

He pushed harder, leaping over a root. The beaver zigged left, wrong move.

"Got you!" 

His hands closed around its tail. The creature squeaked in protest as he wrestled it onto the dirt. It thrashed, but he held firm.

"Finally... dinner."

***

Before long, the smell of smoke rose through the trees. The sun was setting beautifully, turning everything gold. The fire crackled as he turned the meat on a crude spit, juices hissing when they dripped into the flames.

He tore into the first bite. Hot, savory, and smoky. His stomach felt satisfied.

"Ha... meat really does fix everything."

The forest was still again. No snapping twigs, no unseen eyes. Just the fire, the roasted beaver, and him.

He leaned back against a tree, letting the flames warm his legs. 

For the first time since waking up here, he almost felt safe.

Almost.

Because then—

Crash!

The ground trembled. A distant roar tore through the forest, shaking the leaves from their branches. Birds exploded into the air, shrieking in panic.

His eyes snapped open. 

"...That wasn't thunder."

The fire flickered violently, as if recoiling.

He grabbed what was left of the meat, tightening his grip. His heart raced, but his body moved on instinct. 

Whatever that sound was, it was coming from the beach. 

And something told him peace was already over.