Spirit Realm
The Spirit Realm breathed like a living thing.
Its forests weren't just trees—they were spires of light, roots sinking into rivers that glowed as though the stars themselves bled through the soil. Every step stirred fragments of souls, drifting sparks that shimmered and faded back into the air.
Ruka sat cross-legged near the water's edge, flames flickering low around his hands. They weren't hellfire—never had been. Just simple, stubborn fire. His kind of fire.
Across from him, Temmy knelt in silence. Her palms rested flat against the earth, eyes shut, hair whipping gently in the strange, unseen wind. Around her, the faint outline of a beast pulsed—massive, horned, waiting to be born.
"Again," Ruka said, his tone firm but not unkind.
Temmy's breathing slowed. The ground trembled faintly beneath her fingers, the outline of the beast growing clearer, like a shadow pressing through from another world. Sweat slid down her brow.
"I can't hold it," she whispered.
