We walked in silence for a while. Not awkward silence—just the kind where neither of us knew what to say.
The forest changed as we moved. The trees stretched taller, and some glowed faintly like lanterns. A silver mist hovered close to the ground, not thick enough to block the view but just enough to feel wrong.
At one point, I swear I saw something move between the trunks—a blur of shadow with too many legs—but when I looked again, it was gone. Elira didn't react. Either she didn't see it, or she was used to worse.
"Is this forest safe?" I finally asked.
She gave me a dry look over her shoulder. "No."
Cool.
Eventually, we reached a small rise. Elira crouched low and motioned for me to do the same. Below us sat a stone outpost—about the size of a two-story inn—with tall fences, watchtowers, and a central beacon pulsing with blue light. A few figures moved along the walls, armored and alert.
"There it is," she said. "Caelum Outpost. One of the last safe checkpoints this close to the Riftline."
I stared. "It looks like a fortress."
"It is a fortress."
I swallowed. "So what's the Riftline?"
Her expression turned serious. "The tear between this world and everything else. Beyond it is the Void Scar—where the rules break. Physics, magic, time. Nothing stays normal out there. And sometimes… things crawl in."
"Things?"
She didn't answer. Just stood up and started walking again.
We approached the gate. A guard spotted us and called out something in a language I didn't recognize. Elira replied calmly, flashing a metal insignia from her belt.
A few moments later, the heavy wooden gate creaked open. The smell of smoke and hot metal drifted out. Inside, people bustled—soldiers, engineers, healers. The place buzzed like a military camp on caffeine.
Someone else walked up—older, broad-shouldered, and clearly in charge.
"Elira," he said. "You're late."
"Blame the Gate," she replied. "It dropped a stray."
He turned his gaze on me. Sharp eyes. Gray beard. Armor that looked more practical than ceremonial.
"This the stray?"
I raised a hand weakly. "Uh. Hi. Kaito."
"Commander Rhys," he replied. "You got papers?"
"Papers?"
Elira coughed. "He's clean. I checked. Gate-born, no gear, no mark. Memory seems intact."
Rhys looked me up and down. "You sure you're human?"
"I'm starting to wonder that myself."
He grunted. "Fine. Take him to Assessment. If he's unstable, we'll know."
"Wait—unstable?"
But they were already walking.
A few minutes later, I was sitting on a cold stone bench while a woman with glowing gloves hovered her hands over my head. Runes blinked softly in the air.
"Elira wasn't lying," the woman murmured. "No signs of possession. No distortion in the soul-thread."
"Soul-thread?"
"Think of it like... a fingerprint for your existence. Yours is strange. Almost like…"
"Like what?"
She hesitated. Then:
"Like something cut you out of your reality with surgical precision."
My mouth went dry. "Is that bad?"
She didn't answer.
She just handed me a thin strip of paper with strange writing on it and said, "You'll want to keep this. It proves you passed initial assessment."
Then she added:
"And Kaito? If anyone asks who summoned you…"
"Yeah?"
"Tell them no one."