It wasn't a voice, much less a cry for help—it was more like a primal instinct rising from the depths of his being.
Uneasy, he swallowed what remained of the fruit in a single bite and stood up. His shadow stretched twice across the ground due to the two suns hanging in the sky.
'It's energy. Calem Energy.'
He tried to find something different in the area—some kind of shadow, maybe a patch of dried plants—but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a flat, lonely desert horizon stretching endlessly in every direction.
'Where? Where is it coming from?'
First of all, was the existence of Calem Energy even possible in other worlds or dimensions? Apparently so, because otherwise, how would the Aberrations cross the portals? It couldn't all be the asteroid on Terra's doing… right?
'That's right!'
With that in mind, an idea exploded in his head—a moment of sudden clarity.
'Where there is energy, there are portals.'
That had been the case on Terra ever since the Impact. So why wouldn't it be the same in other dimensions? With Calem Energy present on a planet, portals opened and Aberrations crossed over to conquer the other side. Why wouldn't the same phenomenon occur here?
Seen from that perspective, the existence of Portal Aberrations finally made sense. Though, more than a whispered secret, it was a widely accepted theory among the greatest researchers of the current era, so Nova hadn't discovered anything groundbreaking.
'And where there are portals, there is…'
A chance to return home.
Nova didn't hesitate. Wearing his usual relaxed smile, he gathered his belongings and slung them over his back. Then he set off toward where the energy felt strongest.
'To know exactly where to go, I need to feel the wind first, then what makes up the wind. In the end, I'll be able to tell where the energy is coming from.'
If an Empath focused enough, they could determine the direction of the Calem Continent—the place where the planet's largest concentrations of energy gathered. That was where the asteroid rested, where power originated.
That was exactly what Nova was thinking.
Following the direction of the wind, he frowned in concentration. He focused on sensing the soft, scorching breeze dancing through the atmosphere. He deepened his perception from there until he felt something crawling through the air.
"There you are."
Following the intuition hanging before him, he found his path. Now he needed to pick up the pace and move forward.
This time, he walked faster, maintaining a fixed direction across the desert plain. The soles of his boots were already partially melted by the surface. His skin, once pale and white, had turned red—nearly tan—under the relentless rays of the suns.
He was dirty, stained with blood, and parts of his clothes were torn from his fight with the tentacled Aberration, but overall, Nova was in better condition than ever.
The only thing still lingering in his mind was the moment he encountered that cadaverous being.
As the days passed, the memory grew fainter, yet it was always there—the face of that being, the place where they met, and everything it had said.
'That skull-faced guy knew my name. Looks like he knows everything about me.'
He hadn't taken enough time to think about it after waking up. He had been more focused on realizing that he was still alive, thanks to his memory and his convenient ability to manipulate seeds and turn them into all kinds of plants.
'His face is starting to blur in my memories.'
Nova let out a sigh.
'Well, whether you know something about me or not doesn't matter. What matters now is what's useful to me—and what isn't.'
If that skeletal ghost wasn't useful, then it wasn't worth thinking about. Dwelling on it would only slow his progress. It was better to ignore the memory and keep moving forward.
Two more days of travel passed like that. The bag of fruits grew smaller, but there was no point in regretting it—because in the distance, something different finally appeared.
'Is that a rock? A building?'
It looked like a small black stone on the horizon, but it could have been something else entirely. Either way, it was still very far away, barely visible against the flat landscape. If it was something tied to an unknown civilization, it was best to be prepared.
There was no telling what kinds of Aberrations existed in this world.
He was cautious—but also fast.
He walked and walked without rest, dragging his boots across the sand with every step. Hot sweat ran down his forehead, and the weight of the shell shield and the fruits slowed him down, but he didn't give up.
He advanced. He advanced. And he didn't die.
'It's fine. I can handle this. It's not as hard as it looks.'
It was just one foot in front of the other. Even though he was tired, he would keep going. His survival instinct pushed him forward—his brain didn't want him to die. It was natural, a basic perception shared by humans and every living being.
Survival above all else. It was something beyond feeling or not feeling; that was why Nova kept moving without stopping.
More hours passed during the journey. There shouldn't have been anything strange this time—but in this world, nothing made sense. Or maybe it did, and it was simply that this poor human's perception was bound only to that of his own planet.
As the hours passed, the large sun and the smaller sun finally sank below the horizon for the first time in nine days. Within minutes, darkness devoured the sand like a starving beast, spreading across this side of the planet like a massive wave.
He looked up at the sky, stunned by how different this world was.
'Night. Is this what night is like here?'
It was dark—completely dark. There wasn't a single star in the sky, let alone cosmic dust or any other celestial body capable of producing even the faintest light.
Nova couldn't see anything at all. He closed his eyes and opened them again. Everything was the same: absolute penumbra.
'There's no moon.'
Why would there be a moon in a place without a single drop of water or any stars? This world was far too cruel.
'So… is darkness all I get tonight?'
That seemed to be the case.
Accepting his fate with discouragement, he let out a disappointed sigh and placed the shell on the ground—not as a protective seat, but as an improvised shield. He gripped his staff, driving it into the sand, and pulled out his communicator.
The screen lit up, casting a small glow.
'This thing's light isn't enough.'
It could serve as a flashlight, but it wasn't worth it. The light emitted by the screen was far too weak compared to the surrounding darkness. It would be better to walk blind than to waste what little battery the communicator had left.