An uneasy truce settled between them.
John stood still, his breath shallow, while the hefty insect-like beast remained nestled on his outstretched palm. Neither moved nor spoke. The forest, vast and indifferent, stood silent around them—a cathedral of ancient trees watching over the unlikely pair. The only sounds were the occasional rustle of unseen leaves and distant cries of nocturnal creatures.
The silence stretched, taut and uncertain, until the creature finally broke it with a calm mental whisper.
"By the way, your name is John, right?"
John blinked, startled by the sudden voice in his head. "Yes," he replied, his voice quiet and guarded.
The insect's mental tone shifted, carrying a note of curiosity.
"Why didn't you kill me? All humans know how dangerous I am… how dangerous my herd is. If even one of us falls into their hands, they worship it like a god, just to tame it. But with you… something was different. When I was tamed by you, I saw no joy in your face. Why?"
John hesitated. The memory of their encounter was still fresh—the adrenaline, the confusion, the raw instinct. He hadn't thought beyond survival.
"Look," he began, voice low, "you're actually the first beast I've ever tamed. And I swear… I don't know anything about beast tamers."
The creature didn't respond right away. It seemed to pause, as though digesting this truth. When it finally spoke again, the sharp edge in its voice had softened.
"Oh… that's why I didn't see any greed in your eyes."
A beat.
"There was innocence. I could see it… You weren't trying to control me. You were just trying to save my life."
A strange warmth bloomed in John's chest. He hadn't intended to form any bond. He hadn't even realized it had happened. All he'd done was act—to protect, not to possess. He hadn't considered power, nor gain. Just survival. And compassion.
As if sensing the shift in his thoughts, the creature gently stirred in his hand.
"I'm tired," it murmured silently. A wave of fatigue, not entirely his own, swept over John. And then the creature grew still, curling gently into his palm, as if it had simply… fallen asleep.
John stood frozen, unsure what to do next. But before he could act, the world around him began to change.
The oppressive darkness of the forest lifted, the towering trees dissolving into fading mist. Pale rays of dawn spilled across the scene—and then, in a blink, it was gone.
He was no longer in the forest.
Sterile white walls surrounded him.
He blinked again, confused.
The forest had vanished, replaced by the familiar starkness of his hospital room. The chair beneath him was cold. The dull hum of machines buzzed faintly. For a moment, he wasn't sure what was real.
John jerked upright, his pulse racing. He grabbed his phone and tapped the screen. The date blinked back at him.
He exhaled sharply.
"Thank God," he breathed.
"Just one night. It's still daytime here… not two days like last time."
Last time, he had lost precious time—days swallowed by that other world, time stolen from the one he knew. The realization had haunted him since. But not today. Today, he had made it back.
He rose from the chair, eager to leave the confines of the sterile room, to find Luna and tell her everything. But the chair beside his bed—her usual spot—was empty.
A sudden chill crept up his spine.
Where is she?
Before he could even call out, the door's latch clicked.
He turned, heart pounding.
Dr. Thomas. Dr. James. And Luna.
They stood in the doorway, their faces unreadable. And somehow, the air in the room felt heavier than before.