Neptune's senses returned in fragments—first the sound of crackling fire, then the faint scent of ash and dust. His eyelids felt heavy, but he forced them open.
The broken, dry earth greeted him like an old enemy.
He groaned and pushed himself upright, every muscle protesting. His arm throbbed, his legs trembled from exhaustion, and his throat burned as if he'd swallowed sand.
That's when he noticed the campfire a few feet away.
Instinct kicked in. He scrambled sideways in a burst of movement, nearly collapsing under his own weight. His pulse raced.
A figure sat on a rock before the fire.
She lifted her hood. Long, dark-blue hair spilled over her shoulders, catching the light. Her eyes were violet, clear, and unnervingly bright—locked on him with quiet curiosity. A grey cloak draped over polished silver armor that gleamed faintly in the firelight.
She was beautiful. The kind of beauty that could distract you… or get you killed.
And for some reason, Neptune couldn't quite figure out her Rank or Tier. The flow of her Core energy felt… off. And somehow twisted.
She didn't move. Didn't reach for a weapon. If she'd wanted him dead, he'd never have woken up.
Her hand flicked suddenly and something was thrown toward him.
Neptune tensed to dodge—only to catch a plastic water bottle.
He didn't hesitate and twisted off the cap and he drank greedily, the cool water washing the fire from his throat. It tasted impossibly fresh.
"What's your name?" she asked, her voice flat but with a strange awkwardness beneath it.
Neptune wiped his mouth. "Are you a Corrupted?"
Her answer was immediate. "No. I'm human, like you. What are you doing here? This is one of the most dangerous, restricted areas in the Aether. You do know that… right?"
"I was sent here through a Gate Corruption," Neptune said, his voice hoarse. "I'm in the army—General Neptune. Division Three, Western Frontline."
She studied him as if weighing his words, then hesitated. Her lips parted, closed again. For some reason, a faint blush crept up her cheeks.
Neptune's brow furrowed. What is with this girl?
Finally, she spoke. "Sorry. I… haven't talked to another human in a long time. I'm from the Castle of Tears. I'm a wanderer."
"The Castle of Tears?" Neptune's eyes narrowed. "How did you get into the Aether? That place is in the Drowned Islands, the only human settlement here."
"I was born in the Aether." She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.
Born in the Aether? That wasn't possible… was it?
"So… you're from Earth, right? Sent here through a Gate Corruption?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.
Neptune grimaced. "Yeah. Do you know how I can get back to Earth?"
Her tone softened, but it carried no comfort. "Through a Gate. But the only safe one… is... well it's broken."
Neptune's heart sank. He already knew the answer before she said it, but hearing it out loud carved the hope out of him.
"Broken?" His voice was rough. "The Gate's at the Castle of Tears, isn't it? How far are we?"
"We're in the Burned Lands. If you survive the journey, it'll take about four months."
Four months. His fists clenched. Four months in this wasteland without supplies, without allies—unless…
Neptune's mind turned, already shaping a dangerous plan.
He met her eyes. "If we're both still alive by then… you're taking me there."
The girl tilted her head, a slow, knowing smile touching her lips for the first time.
"Maybe," she said. "If you can keep up, I'm on my way back to it anyway."
"Call me Nay," she said with a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
"It's nice to meet you, then… Nay."
"You look pretty beat up. I have a Core ability that can heal wounds."
She hopped down from the rock and approached him with an easy stride.
"Fine."
From Nay's palm, a shimmering blue sphere burst forth and shot toward him. Neptune didn't resist as the bubble expanded around him, swallowing him in its cool glow.
[Health Restored.]
The throbbing in his arm faded to a dull ache, and the sting of shallow cuts was gone entirely. He exhaled slowly, tension draining from his shoulders.
"Thanks," he murmured, his voice carrying a note of relief.
"So… your Core is probably healing-based, right?" he added, though it didn't seem like the most logical specialization for surviving in a place like this.
"It's based around healing—and ranged combat." She nodded matter-of-factly.
That made more sense. A little.
Suddenly, from somewhere far off in the wastes, a scream ripped through the air—sharp, guttural, and distinctly inhuman. The sound echoed against the sandstone cliffs before fading into a heavy, suffocating silence.
Neptune's hand instinctively went to his side, fingers brushing the empty sheath where his katana should have been. A faint grimace crossed his face, the memory of the shattered blade still fresh. He flexed his fingers, feeling the absence of its weight as if part of him had been stripped away.
Nay's eyes flicked to the sheath, lingering for just a heartbeat too long before she looked away. "That came from the east," she said evenly, as if the scream hadn't unsettled her in the slightest.
He studied her for a moment. She seemed… prepared. Not just in the casual confidence of her stance, but in the way her gaze swept the horizon, as though she was searching for something specific—someone specific.
"You're not from around here, are you?" he asked, more to fill the silence than anything else.
Nay smiled faintly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You could say that. I've been wandering the Burned Lands for a while now."
Her voice carried no trace of fear, no uncertainty. It was almost as if she had known this was exactly where she needed to be.
Neptune glanced toward the direction of the scream again. "If that's a Corrupted, it's not small. I've fought enough to tell."
"We should move," she said quickly, already stepping past him. "Lingering after a sound like that… never ends well."
He followed, though part of him bristled at being led. Still, something about her presence felt… oddly familiar, like a fragment of a half-forgotten dream.
If she noticed his scrutiny, she didn't show it. Her expression was calm, even as the distant wind carried the faint, clicking rhythm of many legs moving in unison.