Ash stared at the boy suspended in the sky, drifting within the soft shimmer of a Soul space that felt far too calm for something so strange. He had no idea how a child this young had ended up inside his soul. None of it made sense. And seeing him face-to-face only raised more questions.
The boy's voice came gently.
"Mm. Ash, are you okay?"
That pulled Ash back. His gaze snapped away, clearing the fog in his mind.
"Yeah. I'm good."
He turned his eyes to the open field again, pretending that the green grass swaying beneath them could explain anything.
"You're saying you made all this?"
The boy's smile rose like it meant something.
"Yeah, I did. It wasn't easy, but I made it. All of it."
Ash stepped forward. The air was warm here—surprisingly gentle, like the world itself was breathing slow. He had felt a kind of pity for the boy when he first appeared. That pity began to rot now, replaced by something colder. Something cautious.
"How did you do this?"
