The silence stretched, thick as the dust in the air. She—Rover now—didn't move at first, just breathed slowly and deliberately, her chest rising and falling as though she was testing her own rhythm. Not fragile nor weak. Just simply… recalibrating.
Then she shifted just a quiet grimace as her muscles answered back. "...we can't stay here." Her voice was rough, not cracked, like it was scraped raw from disuse. But there was weight in it, a conviction.
I was surprised. Straight to the point. No talk of resting, no pleading for help. She'd already decided, like the Rover the players are familiar with.
"Not yet," I said, lowering myself near her. "If you push too hard, you'll end up on your back again."
Her gaze swept the ruins of broken arches, collapsed stone, and shadows that hid many unknown variable threats. She wasn't looking at me. She was scanning and assessing her environment. Same as I was.
That edge of unease hit me again—she didn't want to move because she was afraid. She wanted to move because she refused to be cornered.
I ran a hand over my jaw, exhaling. "Alright. Slow then."
This time I didn't reach first. I waited. And when her hand twitched toward me, it wasn't with hesitation it was a calculated choice weighing both the pros and cons. A decision was made. Her grip of her slender hand was firm enough, her beautiful golden eyes sharp even as she rose.
We have to move forward, a simple directive I thought up that I followed.
We moved together through the ruins, each step careful but deliberate. The ruins stretched around us like a fractured labyrinth, walls leaning at impossible angles, shadows pooling where light refused to reach. We came to a collapsed archway, the jagged remnants leaning toward each other like teeth, and she crouched slightly, assessing the gap, testing the angle, and judging whether it could hold our weight. I followed suit, breathing steadily, heart locked on the rhythm of her movements, knowing that one wrong step here could be disastrous.
She didn't speak, but the small, precise movements of her body spoke volumes. Each step was measured, each adjustment of weight calculated to avoid imbalance, each brush of her fingers over jagged stone a test of stability. I followed her lead, moving with equal care, letting my actions demonstrate what words could not: that I could navigate this place and that I was reliable, aware, and capable. Trust wasn't just given here. It had to be earned, step by step, action by action.
"This is some fantasy come to life, wtf is this shit," I muttered under my breath, voice low, half to myself, half for her, because maybe hearing a human reaction would ground us both in some tiny fraction of normalcy. She paused, eyes flicking to me briefly, and I caught that spark of curiosity. Finally, her voice cut through the stillness careful, and measured. "Jeff…" She paused a bit, like she was unsure what to say. "…do you… know where we are? "
"Nah, I haven't got a clue, same as you; this place is completely foreign to me."
Her golden eyes lingered on me, sharp and unblinking, searching for any hint of a lie, of hesitation, of weakness. I let my gaze sweep the ruins again, assessing the terrain for the hundredth time, calming my paranoid ass, letting the fractured light play over jagged walls and uneven stone, and letting my posture show awareness, calm, and hopefully reliability. "We just keep moving," I said, voice low but steady. ".Watch the ground and the walls, and cover each other's back. That's the best we can do right now."
She exhaled, fingers brushing the jagged stone beside her as if testing it, and then she asked, careful but direct, "And… you… know what you're doing? " Her tone wasn't accusing, just testing my mettle.
I shrugged lightly, letting my movements show I was capable without pretending I had all the answers. "I've navigated tricky places before. Doesn't mean I know why this place exists, but I can make sure we don't break a leg, or get lost, or worse, and hopefully survive long enough to figure it out."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, golden and calculating. "And… how… Did you get here? " Her voice cracked at the end, betraying frustration and disbelief, a mixture of fear and curiousity.
I exhaled slowly, trying to give her clarity without overwhelming her. "I don't know for sure," I admitted. "Last thing I remember, I was… somewhere else. Then I woke up here. Same as you. And yeah… I know it sounds insane. I probably would've laughed at someone saying this shit was real if I weren't living it."
She didn't speak right away, just tilted her head, letting the silence stretch as her golden eyes tracked me, searching for any hint of deception, any clue I wasn't telling the full truth and giving her a load of horseshit.
"…So… we keep moving forward, huh? "
I nodded, adjusting my footing on the uneven stones.
She exhaled, brushing her fingers along a jagged wall as if testing it for hidden traps."…Okay… I… I can work with that. For now."
We continued forward, the ruins stretching endlessly around us. Thirty minutes later, we crested a ridge and froze—two familiar silhouettes moving carefully in the ruins.
Rover stiffened beside me, golden eyes narrowing. "Who… are they? "
I crouched low behind the jagged stone, letting the uneven edges press into my palms. My pulse was steady, but my mind was racing. Yangyang and Chixia, the famous duo in the beginning. I knew one thing for sure—they helped Rover at the start,guided her, and became her companions in the main story . That was it. That small piece of knowledge was all I had to go on, but it was enough to shape my approach. This is just like the beginning of the canon of them patrolling the area. Looks like they're in the same vicinity as us; consider ourselves lucky.
Alright. Step one: obviously situational awareness. Observe, don't reveal too much shit, and maintain cover. Keep my body posture in a nonthreatening way, hands visible but relaxed. Step two: protect Rover and myself. She's counting on me to read this, to make the right call, to keep us alive. Step three: apply the rules I know—protocols of diplomacy and basic engagement rules from training. Keep your posture neutral, your tone measured, and allow them the initiative; avoid confrontation. Knowing them, it's guaranteed they will help us both like in the canon.
Experience kicked in. Years of watching human behavior, assessing the risks, and anticipating reactions. Eye contact that's firm but not threatening. Movements that communicate awareness without aggression. Space that allows the other party to act first. These are the basics of engagement—step forward, step back, let them reveal intent, and respond proportionally. I fucking learned all of this studying the rule of engagement in the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations. Hopefully I can use that knowledge with my encounters with other people moving forward.
Thankfully studying that shit will prove useful in this world. To sum up what I learned, I just have to remember three key points: I just have to listen attentively, to communicate properly like a fucking decent human being, and to be influential enough and clear in my message and intention.
Rover's golden eyes were sharp, scanning every shadow, every subtle twitch. She didn't trust blindly, and she shouldn't. I just needed to project reliability without overstepping and be competent enough without being an arrogant know-it-all. Trust had to be earned here, not just with words but with action.
I glanced toward the two figures ahead, barely visible between broken columns and collapsed stone. Their posture was alert but not hostile; experience told me they wouldn't be a threat if approached carefully. They looked like they knew the ruins better than we did, which meant if I played it right, like in the canon, they could help us.
"Let's go," I murmured to Rover, voice low but steady, projecting confidence. "They look like they know more than we do. If anyone can help us, it's them."
I drew a deep breath, forcing my posture to stay open, shoulders down, hands visible but relaxed, moving slowly making my footsteps audible enough for them to notice immediately, almost hesitant, letting each step carry the message that I'm not a threat; please help. "Hello…" I called softly, voice low, just enough to carry across the fractured stones, laced with relief and exhaustion. "Thank god… other people in this place." My voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying the panic I was trying to portray.
The two silhouettes froze, but there was no immediate aggression, only alertness. I slowed my steps, letting my hands remain visible, palms slightly turned out to signal openness. Rover mirrored me instinctively, golden eyes sharp, body poised but not rigid, ready to react but trusting me enough to follow my lead.
"We… don't mean any trouble," I added quickly, letting my tone stay calm and approachable. "We need help please; we both just woke up without any recollections of why we got here."
Rover spoke finally, voice low but clear, carrying the rawness of hope, "Help us."
I felt the tension in her words, the weight of someone stranded and vulnerable, and I mirrored it in my own posture—shoulders slightly slumped, hands visible but relaxed, movements unthreatening. I stepped a little closer to Rover, letting my presence signal protection without dominance. "We… we don't know where we are either," I said quietly, my voice trembling just enough to show honesty, "and we… we don't know if it's safe out here. Please… we need help."
The two figures froze, golden light catching the edges of their silhouettes, muscles taut but not aggressive. My heart thudded, but I forced my breathing to be slow and steady; everything I'd learned about reading people, about diplomatic approaches, and about signaling non-threat clicked into place. Eyes soft but attentive, small gestures to show openness and voice calm but raw enough to convey distress.
The taller figure's voice cut through, calm and controlled, "Who are you?"
I inhaled slowly, choosing words with care, projecting sincerity without desperation. "I'm Jeff, and this is Rover," I said, letting my gaze sweep their stance, showing I wasn't hiding anything.
Jeff gave a small, reassuring nod toward Rover, letting her know he had control over the immediate situation and that she wasn't alone. "It's alright," he said softly, "we just need some help and some guidance. That's all."
The taller figure's stance relaxed slightly, shoulders loosening. "You're safe for now," the voice said, calm but cautious. "But why are you here? Where did you come from? "
Chixia stepped forward, her own tension easing as she spoke. "You can call me Chixia, and this is Yangyang. We're in the Gorge Spirits, on the outskirts of Jinzhou, Huanglong."
Jeff let his posture stay open, leaning just enough to signal cooperation without forwardness. "Thank you," he said, voice quiet but clear. "We… We don't know why we're here. We woke up here, the same as each other. That's all we can remember." My gaze flicked to Rover, golden eyes searching mine for a cue; I offered a subtle nod, a silent signal to stay calm and follow my lead.
Yangyang's gaze swept over us, sharp and assessing, lingering on the crisp white of my button-up shirt, the casual black slacks, and the scuffed sneakers that had clearly done more walking than fashion demanded. "Your attires doesn't seem local," she said, her voice steady but curious, tilting her head as if trying to read more than just the fabric. "Are you both roving travelers from Afar or someone returning home? "
I shifted slightly, hands visible but relaxed, letting the casual normalcy of my clothes speak for me. "Neither, really," I said slowly, letting my voice carry just enough uncertainty to seem honest but calm enough to avoid triggering suspicion. "Like I said, we just woke up here. We don't know where we are or how we got here."
Then suddenly Yangyang's eyes swept toward the fractured horizon. "The wind has brought us a warning: the Etheric Sea is converging. A new Tacit Field is forming."
Chixia glanced at her gourds, shaking her head. "That means it could get dangerous soon. Our gourds are out of service because of the Etheric Sea's influence—we can't send or receive messages for help. We better hurry to meet Baizhi at our gathering spot and get out of here."
She leaned slightly toward Rover, softening her tone. "Guess you guys can't recall a thing, but don't worry. If you have questions, we can talk as we move. Yangyang and I will give you the full scoop, every little detail, from the get-go."
Rover's gaze flicked to me, uncertainty written across her face. I stayed close, posture relaxed but protective, offering a quiet reassurance that it was safe to speak.
Yangyang's voice was gentle and careful. "Rover… Can we call you that, what an unusual name?"
I mirrored her choice naturally, stepping lightly beside Rover, voice low and even. "That's fine.I don't remember my actual name yet so we go with what works."
Chixia's face brightened, relief flashing across her features. "We shouldn't stay here though. If you both don't have other plans, how about leaving with us? "
Rover exhaled, tension easing slightly. "Yes… let's go, we plan to follow your guy's lead anyway" she said, her voice tentative but certain.
Chixia smiled, warmth in her expression. "Oh, that's great! Let's go together."
Just as planned. I told myself that, but my chest still thumped a little too fast, hands loose at my sides, body open but tense, letting them see I wasn't a threat while knowing I'd be useless if this went sideways. I can't fight my way out here yet—not in this world, not against whatever's lurking in these ruins. I have to rely on them, Rover, Yangyang and Chixia, and that thought knotted my stomach, a humbling experience and almost nauseating feeling for sure.
Rover's tense, golden eyes are sharp, but she's trusting me enough to follow my lead, and that's what I need—her focus on me and my focus on not screwing this up. Every word, every gesture counts. I let my gaze sweep the area, slow and careful, showing I notice everything but without threatening anyone. I edge slightly behind her, letting her presence act as a living shield, a buffer I can lean on. Not even subtle about it, not ashamed either, and I can admit it to myself: I'm relying on her, on her strength, on the fact that she's more capable than I am, and on her plot armor—whatever keeps her alive keeps me alive too. This is the only way I can survive for the time being. I give her a small nod, just enough to say, "Stay calm, I've got this," even though I feel more exposed than ever.
Yangyang's eyes flick over me, taking in the scuffed sneakers, the casual shirt, and the slack of my posture—curiosity, not hostility—and I silently thank whatever luck brought that. I need them to see we're just lost, just vulnerable, and that's exactly the truth. My voice will be soft, carrying honesty without sounding weak, because if I waver, if I show the slightest bit of weakness, it could all bite me in the ass.
I'm relying on them, not the other way around. I'm not going to be pretending I can handle this alone like some cringy, edgy motherfucker and pretending I'm some hero. I'm just a normal dude who got yeeted out of his home planet. I'm not fucking special; I have no system and cheat like those protagonists who must not be named. wearing clothes that scream casual, standing behind a girl who can handle herself in ways I can't even begin to comprehend. And right now, that's enough. That has to be enough. Because if I falter, if I have a misconception of me being more than I am, the world will swallow me whole and say, "I don't think so," and there'll be no one to call mercy, no one to buffer the fall. I let my spine straighten just a fraction, letting the weight of truth anchor me—maybe that's my edge, maybe that's my shield: knowing who I am and knowing who I rely on and trust is enough for me to keep moving forward even if the odds are against me.