Erik stood alone in what could only be described as nothingness.
There was no ground beneath his feet, no horizon to measure, no sound except the faint echo of light surrounding him—if light could echo at all. It stretched endlessly in every direction, blinding yet not painful, soft yet suffocating.
Though standing, he couldn't tell what he was standing on. There was no surface, no gravity, yet somehow—he remained upright.
And that voice...
That voice was still ringing in his mind.
Again.
And again.
And again.
It wasn't calling him this time—it was warning him.
He couldn't make sense of the words, but the emotion behind them was undeniable. Fear. Urgency. Desperation.
Erik's breath grew shallow. His chest tightened. The sound was pressing in on him from every direction, unbearable now, drilling into his skull like a silent scream.
He tried to move—but his body refused.
Then—
"Erik!"
A new voice.
He spun—though he hadn't moved—eyes wide.
"Erik!!"
This time, the voice was louder. Sharper. Real.
Suddenly, a face emerged through the blinding white—Yosul's.
Erik gasped and shot upright, sweat clinging to his brow, breath ragged. His heart pounded in his ears as he met Yosul's concerned gaze.
"You okay?" Yosul asked, crouched beside him.
"Yeah… yeah. I'm fine," Erik replied, catching his breath. "Just a bad dream."
Yosul nodded slowly, then stood. "Alright. Get yourself ready—we're moving out soon." He turned and walked back toward the horses.
Erik exhaled and rubbed his eyes.
When he looked up, Kaizer was watching him silently from a short distance away, arms crossed.
Erik didn't say a word. He turned, grabbed his gear, and started preparing for the day.
A few minutes later, the group had gathered and saddled up.
Yosul mounted his horse and looked over his shoulder.
"Alright, here's the plan. We keep heading northeast, follow the shoreline until we reach Sacha Village. From there, it's a straight road to Velhein. With some luck, we'll make it to Sacha by sundown."
Everyone nodded.
"Okay, let's move out!" Yosul called, kicking his horse forward.
And just like that, the journey continued.
But as the wind picked up and the sea crept quietly beside them, Erik couldn't shake the echo of that voice.
That warning.
The team continued along the shoreline, the ocean to their right, and jagged cliffs to their left. Veinar and Kaizer led the front, the mage's spirit bird flying overhead, scanning the horizon with glowing eyes. Erik and Leena brought up the rear, riding in silence as the midday sun pressed down on them.
"So," Leena broke the quiet, "what was that about when you were waking up?"
Erik raised a brow. "You worried about me?"
"Not really," she replied, her tone flat. "I just thought I should ask."
"Huh… I don't know," Erik muttered, eyes half-lidded. "It was just a weird dream."
"Weird dream, huh?" Leena repeated, then fell silent again.
After a few moments, she asked, "Do you remember anything from it?"
"Well, there was this—"
Before Erik could finish, Veinar's voice cut through the air.
"Everyone, heads up. We're approaching the Shore of the Wanderers. The mana density's about to spike. If anyone starts feeling dizzy or suffocated, call out immediately."
Everyone nodded.
"What's that about?" Erik asked, glancing over at Leena.
She shrugged. "I don't know."
Erik turned his gaze out to the sea—and saw them.
Two massive pillars rising from the ocean, impossibly tall, like they were holding up the sky itself. Between them, a narrow gap. Perfectly symmetrical.
"That feels intentional," Erik muttered.
Then—he heard it again.
The voice.
Soft. Feminine. Whispering directly into his mind.
He looked around—nothing. But the voice returned, louder this time.
His head throbbed.
Pain struck like a spike driven between his eyes. It wasn't pressure—it was splitting. Blinding.
Erik's vision began to fade. His body went numb. He tried to hold on—tried to shout—
"Leenaa…"
His voice cracked as he began to fall from his horse. But the world was already slipping away.
And then—everything went black.
When Erik opened his eyes, he was back in that place again.
The void.
He lay on something invisible yet solid—smooth as glass, clearer than air. Light surrounded him, endless in every direction.
He sat up slowly, looking left—nothing.
Right—nothing.
Not surprising.
He flexed his fingers. They moved. That was something.
Erik rose to his feet and began walking, though he couldn't tell if he was actually moving. The world felt like an illusion—a still painting.
"Hello?!" he called out. "Somebody there?!"
No answer.
He kept walking—or tried to.
What the hell is this place?
Then—
"Erik."
A voice.
Not Yosul's. Not anyone he recognized.
It was hers.
The same woman's voice he'd heard before—the one that had called to him, warned him.
"Erik… can you hear me?"
"Yes! I can hear you!" Erik spun around. "Where are you? Who are you?!"
"Erik, we met because—"
Her voice cut out.
"What?! What did you say?"
"Time's running out," she said softly. "We'll meet again."
The sound came from behind him.
Erik turned.
There—standing in the light.
A woman.
Tall—taller than any human he'd seen. Her skin was pure white, not pale, not ivory—white, like untouched snow in moonlight. Her eyes were deep black, but the pupils shimmered in violet light.
Erik took a step toward her.
"Who are—"
He jolted awake.
His body lurched upright.
He was lying on a bed—if it could still be called that. The roof above him was gone, blown open by some kind of explosion. Smoke filled the air. The window panes were shattered. The walls around him were cracked and scorched.
Through the gaping hole above, the night sky stared down at him.
Then—Yosul's voice rang out.
"Erik!"
He burst into the room, eyes wide with panic.
"Erik, what happened?!"
"What do you mean?" Erik replied, blinking in confusion.
"Your hand—look at your left hand!"
Erik turned slowly.
Yellow sparks crackled across his palm. Lightning danced over his skin, leaping from finger to forearm like a living thing.
"…What the fuck is going on?"