The forest widened.
Not like a clearing, more like something had pushed the trees back. Flattened the snow. The air here felt stale. Not older. Just… touched.
Lucen stepped past a cracked tree trunk, eyes scanning ahead. His system pinged again, ambient pressure lowering slightly. Which wasn't normal.
Then something moved in the drift just ahead. Not fast. Not a summon.
Just a man.
Bent forward, one arm dragging, clothes shredded and frozen stiff at the edges. Long coat, ripped. Hood missing. One side of his face was swollen and purple-blue, like he'd taken a hard punch and then slept on it for two weeks.
He saw them.
Flinched. Blinked hard.
Then stumbled forward and rasped, "You're real?"
Lucen paused.
Varik stepped up beside him.
The man fell to his knees in the snow. Not dramatic. Just… empty. He dropped there like standing had been a choice he ran out of.
"I—I thought they weren't letting anyone in. Thought it was locked."
