Edward's eyes fluttered open—except they didn't.
He was awake, but everything around him looked wrong. The elven city stretched before him, yet it was different—distorted, as though submerged underwater.
Colours were pale and bleeding into one another, the once-vibrant greens and silvers reduced to a dull grey wash. Every sound was muffled—the soft hum of wind, the rustle of trees, even his own breathing felt distant, as if coming from behind glass.
He tried to move, but his body didn't respond. Or rather, it did, just not in any way that made sense. His legs didn't step. Instead, his body flowed, gliding effortlessly through the ground as though gravity had forgotten him. When he brushed against a wall, his arm slipped through it like mist.
"What…" he whispered—or thought he did. The words didn't leave his lips, but they echoed inside the silence all the same.
