The forest did not return to normal after the old man disappeared.
The birds did not resume singing. The wind did not pick up. Even the light filtering through the trees felt thinner, as if reality itself had grown hesitant.
Arya stood there for a long time, unmoving.
The guardian's words echoed endlessly inside his mind.
The world was a lie.
The seal was failing.
The Black Dragon had never left.
He exhaled slowly, forcing his racing thoughts into order. Panic would accomplish nothing. Fear would only make him careless. He had learned that lesson painfully in his previous life.
If this world was fragile, then every action mattered.
He turned back toward the path leading home.
Each step felt heavier than before, as if the ground resisted him now that he had learned the truth. The illusion no longer embraced him fully. It tolerated him.
When he emerged from the forest, the town looked the same.
Peaceful streets. Clean buildings. Children somewhere nearby.
