They sat close, knees almost touching, voices lowered as if the forest itself were listening.
Renkai was the first to speak. "Alright. Let's assume the worst," he said, glancing around. "We walk, and the scenery doesn't change. No tracks, no landmarks, no horizon shift. That means this place isn't space the way we know it."
Lira nodded slowly. "It feels… curated. Like a dream that doesn't want us to leave."
"Or a test," Renkai added. "I don't like tests."
Lira smiled faintly. "Neither do I. But we've passed stranger ones."
She closed her eyes for a moment, reaching inward—not to her elements, but to her sense. "When I focus, I don't feel resistance. I feel… redirection. Like every path bends back on itself."
Renkai frowned. "So brute force walking won't work."
"No," she agreed. "If this world loops intention, then movement without purpose keeps us inside the loop."
