A sudden flash of blinding light engulfed Arya, forcing him to shield his eyes. The world twisted around him, the forest, the monsters, even the sounds of the battle—all disappeared into a dizzying swirl of color.
When the light finally faded, Arya opened his eyes. The familiar forest was gone. He was standing alone in a shadowy grove, surrounded by towering, dark trees. Mist curled along the forest floor, and the faint scent of damp earth filled the air. Silence hung heavy, broken only by the occasional distant rustle.
"…I think… we were all teleported separately," Arya muttered, his voice echoing softly in the quiet. He glanced around cautiously, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The soft crunch of leaves under his boots was the only sound, and even that seemed amplified in the eerie stillness.
