He was dead!?
…except, that wasn't actually him, right? That was Rin! It wasn't even his body in the first place, so there was no way he was actually dead, right?
Right!?
Arin suddenly looked down at his arms. His own, familiar arms.
This whole time he'd been awake, he'd somehow failed to realize that his form was different again; it had gone back to being the familiar one he'd lived with nearly all his life. The one he'd been in every day, before he'd suddenly ended up in this world.
…so, was this his spirit, then?
Had the fall killed him? Had he died in Rin's body, and been kicked out of it?
Was he now a damned ghost!?
'Couldn't you have just sent me back to my own body, then!?' he suddenly yelled out loud, to no one in particular. 'Let me go! Since it's already like this, let me go back home!'
Of course, there was no response.
Who knew if he'd actually even made an audible sound just then?
'Damn it, damn it, screw it all!' he yelled, suddenly whipping around to kick at a random pile of leaves. He'd just wanted to vent some of his frustration.
Nothing happened.
He couldn't even touch the damned leaves anymore!
Arin sank to the ground, tightly shutting his eyes and covering his face with his hands.
What now, what now, what now…?
His mind was racing as he ran over everything that had just happened.
And in that moment, he suddenly realised two things;
Firstly, he wasn't entirely intangible. He could feel every part of himself as well as he usually did.
His elbows resting on his knees, his palms cool against his face, and even his hair - straight, and cut far shorter than Rin's - against his forehead.
More importantly, he was still solidly on a surface. Even though he couldn't physically interact with his environment, he wasn't sinking through the ground.
Maybe he could use that…
Secondly, he hadn't died from the fall.
This was still more of a guess, albeit one that he was almost entirely certain of. Well, it didn't matter too much either way.
The main issue was still that he was dead dead.
Arin sighed. He ruffled his hair, taking comfort in the familiar touch of his silky strands. Then, after a moment, he lifted his head and opened his eyes, looking around at the forest while still crouching.
The mostly bare, criss-crossing branches.
But that hadn't been the case with any of the vegetation he'd seen so far. The season was wrong…
The forest floor covered in a thick layer of leaves, as though they'd all fallen off almostat once.
And not just at the spot where he'd fallen. That seemed to be the case as far as he could see from here.
No grass, no disturbed birds, no chirping of insects.
No sound at all.
Except for the faint, soft puffs of breath coming from where Elara still lay.
No life at all.
It was as though…
Arin jumped to his feet. He hurried to a nearby tree, reaching out a hand to touch it. As expected, it went right through it.
He remained calm.
His feet were firmly planted on the ground. He could feel the surface, solid and reliable. As it should be.
As should the tree be. As should his hand be. As should the whole of him be.
Arin knew that relying on what he believed, or what made the most sense - as he'd done within the dream - wouldn't work here. Had that been the case, he'd never have failed at lifting up Elara when he'd first tried.
No. For this, he had to focus.
He pictured his own body, solid and tangible. He focused on where his feet stood on the ground, then tried to replicate the feeling all over himself.
When he touched something, there would be resistance. It would happen, because he could feel himself, in spite of the form he was currently in.
He tightened his other hand into a fist. He could feel his skin fold, his fingers curl, and his nails dig into his palms.
Pursing his lips, Arin slowly reached out the same arm with which he'd just tried to touch the tree.
He willed all the atoms, the molecules, the cells and tissues - that made up his skin - to solidify. To materialize.
He knew the feeling of touching something. It was so, so familiar. He just had to do it again. And -
He felt the rough bark of the tree trunk push against his fingertips.
…
Holy shit! He was a certifiable genius!
Arin threw his head back and laughed out loud. Then, without wasting any more time, he got a firm hold onto the trunk, and leaped forward to climb up the tree.
Only to fall right though it.
…
…
It took Arin a few attempts to master tangibility.
When he did, he finally clambered up to get to the highest point of the tree. From there, he slowly turned his head, taking in the view in all directions.
Dead trees. Only dead trees, for as far as the eye could see.
There were no visible gaps, and no sudden end to the bramble of bare branches.
That meant he really had successfully managed to carry Elara far away enough to not affect any human settlements.
Good thing he had.
Arin's guess had been correct. Quite clearly, the new-and-improved distortion didn't just pull people into a deep sleep, to trap them in a dream of normalcy as their bodies slowly wasted away.
No.
The upgraded final form of the distortion was much more straightforward.
It just instantly killed every living thing within a certain range, and trapped its likeness within its dream forever.