The forest had grown quiet again.
The Wyrmclaw's corpse still steamed where it fell, the last wisps of smoke curling into the cold evening air. Around it, the clearing was a scar — scorched trees, cracked earth, and the faint shimmer of magic fading from Celeste's shield.
Kael sat with his back to a half-burnt log, running a rag over his blade. Seris crouched nearby, checking the faint burn across her shoulder. Eli lay on the ground, staring at the sky with his hands folded behind his head, breathing like a man who'd just run out of miracles.
Celeste was the only one still moving. She'd gathered what little wood remained unburnt and built a small fire, her palms glowing faintly as she coaxed it to life. The light washed over them, soft and gold against the ruin.
Nhilly sat opposite her, legs crossed, Draco's Shroud laid across his knees. The weapon gleamed faintly in the firelight, still slick with dark blood. His ribs ached with every breath, but he didn't complain. He'd felt worse.
The silence lingered until Kael broke it. "That was the weakest gatekeeper you've seen, Seris?"
Seris gave a dry laugh. "No. That was the easiest."
Eli groaned. "You're joking."
She shook her head. "Nebula rank. That's mid-tier for a guardian. Some reach White Dwarf or worse. They don't fight like beasts — they think."
Eli stared at her for a long moment, then looked away. "Great. Can't wait."
Celeste smiled faintly as she rummaged through her satchel. "We should eat. You all look half-dead."
"Half?" Nhilly muttered under his breath.
Eli raised a brow. "You got a buffet hidden in that bag of yours?"
"Better," Celeste said with a grin. She pulled out a small crystal vial filled with a faintly shimmering liquid. "Purification potions. Enchanted. Makes anything edible — even this."
She pointed her dagger toward the Wyrmclaw's corpse.
Eli sat up immediately. "No. Absolutely not."
Celeste ignored him, already standing. "You'd be surprised. Monster meat's dense in energy. Some Returnees swear by it."
Kael smirked. "And the ones who didn't?"
"They didn't purify it," she replied cheerfully.
Eli groaned into his hands. "Fantastic. We're about to eat radioactive nightmare chicken."
Nhilly couldn't help the faint smile tugging at his lips. "If it kills us, at least we'll die full."
Celeste shot him a playful glare. "Positive thinking only."
She went to work quickly, using her dagger to carve a few manageable slabs from the creature's flank. The air hissed faintly where the blade cut, the flesh still faintly warm. A drop of the shimmering potion hissed as it touched the meat, steam rising in a faint white trail.
"There," she said proudly. "Cleansed and harmless."
Eli eyed it suspiciously. "Harmless doesn't mean tasty."
"Then don't eat," Kael said, stretching his legs out. "More for us."
Celeste skewered the chunks on a makeshift spit, propping it over the flames. The scent that rose was… strange. Earthy, faintly metallic, but not entirely unpleasant.
As they waited, Seris sat down beside Nhilly, silent for a moment before speaking. "You did well," she said quietly.
He glanced at her, unsure whether she meant it or was just being polite. "Barely."
"You read its movements," she said. "Most people freeze the first time they face something that size. You didn't."
Nhilly shrugged. "Habit."
Seris gave a knowing look. "Dojo?"
He nodded. "Before it shut down."
She smiled faintly. "Old habits keep you alive here. Don't forget that."
Eli broke the moment, sniffing the air. "Alright, fine. That actually smells… edible?"
Celeste shot him a smug look. "Told you."
When she handed him a piece, he stared at it like it might bite back. Then he took a cautious bite. His eyes widened slightly. "Alright. I hate that this isn't bad."
Kael took a piece next. "Chewy. But edible."
Celeste beamed. "See? What did I say?"
Nhilly took his last, inspecting it for a moment before trying it. It was strange — dense, gamey, but rich. The faint taste of iron lingered on his tongue. It wasn't pleasant, but it was real. Warm. Solid.
Celeste leaned back, watching the firelight dance in her eyes. "So," she said softly, "tomorrow we find the gate."
Seris nodded. "We rest tonight. Move at first light."
Eli yawned, already half-asleep. "If another one of those things is waiting, I'm pretending to be dead."
"You already looked it," Kael said dryly.
Celeste giggled, covering her mouth.
Even Seris smiled.
Nhilly said nothing, staring at the flames, listening to the low hum of laughter fade into the dark. For the first time since arriving in the Yarion world, the silence didn't feel so heavy.
The fire had burned low by the time they finished eating. The scent of cooked Wyrmclaw still lingered, heavy and faintly metallic, but it was better than the smell of blood.
Kael tossed a stripped skewer into the flames, the wood crackling as it caught. "You've cleared one before, haven't you?" he asked, glancing toward Seris. "A Scenario."
Seris looked up slowly. Her face was calm, but the firelight couldn't hide the shadow behind her eyes. "Yes."
"I've read about them," Kael continued, resting an arm on his knee. "Textbooks back on Earth said they were just trials—tests you complete to return home. But what are they really?"
For a moment, Seris said nothing. The flames popped softly between them, painting her expression in moving gold. When she finally spoke, her tone was low, almost detached.
"They're not trials," she said. "They're stories. And once you step inside one, you become part of it."
Eli frowned. "Stories? What kind of—"
"The kind that don't end when you die," Seris interrupted quietly.
The group fell silent again. Even Eli didn't press further.
Seris exhaled, staring into the fire as she continued. "Each gate leads to a world of its own—a self-contained story the Yarion world creates. At least, that's what people think. In truth, no one knows for sure. Maybe the world makes them… or maybe something else does."
Nhilly watched her, his expression unreadable. Something else. He'd heard that phrase before—from Returnees too scared to finish the sentence.
Seris went on. "When you enter, you're given a role. Sometimes it's a soldier, a villager, a mercenary, a hunter—it depends on the Scenario. You'll find people there, too—faces that look human, act human—but they aren't. They're projections. Constructs the world designs to fill the story. They vanish once the Scenario resets."
Celeste's voice softened. "You mean they're not real?"
Seris nodded once. "Not real. Just fragments. Don't get attached."
Eli grimaced. "Sounds like a nightmare."
"Nightmares end when you wake up," Seris said. "Scenarios don't. Once you enter, it starts. The only way out is to clear it."
Kael leaned forward. "And if you fail?"
Seris's eyes lifted, steady and cold. "Then you cease to exist. The world resets. It forgets you were ever there."
Celeste shivered slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. "How… how long do they last?"
"It depends," Seris replied. "Some are over in minutes. Others last years. You won't know until you're already inside."
Eli gave a humourless chuckle. "So we're walking into a story written by no one, full of fake people, with a death penalty for bad acting."
"That's one way to put it," Seris said softly.
Kael's gaze flicked toward the shadows beyond the firelight. "Then why risk it?"
Seris didn't answer immediately. When she finally did, her voice was quieter, distant. "Because some people want to go home. Others… don't have anything left to lose."
No one spoke after that. The words hung in the air like smoke—thick, heavy, unshakable.
Nhilly leaned back against the tree, watching the embers pulse. He already knew most of what she'd said, but hearing it again still left that hollow pull in his chest. She's leaving things out. There was always more—things Returnees never said aloud.
He looked at her from across the fire. The way she'd phrased it—"stories the Yarion world creates"—wasn't belief. It was habit. A way to avoid saying what she really thought. You don't believe the world makes them. You think something else does.
He didn't ask, though. He could see it in her eyes—the kind of weariness that came from having survived what no one should.
Eli finally stretched out beside the fire, his voice lazy but uncertain. "Guess that means tomorrow's when the real fun starts."
Celeste rolled her eyes. "If by fun you mean dying horribly, sure."
Kael smirked faintly. "We'll keep him in front then."
Eli grinned. "As bait? Charming."
Seris didn't smile this time. "Rest while you can," she said, rising to her feet. "Once we reach the gate, we won't get another chance."
The fire crackled softly as she turned away, her silhouette blending into the darkness at the edge of the clearing.
Celeste looked across the fire toward Nhilly. "You think she's right?"
Nhilly stared into the flames for a moment before replying. "Yeah," he said quietly. "But I think she's only told us half the story."
Celeste tilted her head. "Half?"
He gave a faint smile. "You'll understand when we step through."
She didn't ask what he meant. No one did. The forest was too quiet, the night too still, and the stars above them burned just a little too bright—like they were watching.