Devin gripped the stick like a lifeline, swinging it wildly at the mist wolf that paced around him. He yelled—half to scare the creature off, half to stop himself from spiraling into panic. He looked ridiculous, like a child trying to fend off a beast with a twig. But it didn't matter. He was alive. And, oddly enough, he felt awake for the first time in ages.
Sandra, barely conscious, crawled away from the confrontation. Her leg—no, what was left of it—dragged behind her like a severed rope. The wolf had mauled her, and Devin's hesitation had cost her dearly. Her hands trembled as she clawed at the mossy soil, each movement slower than the last. Her lips quivered as she whispered for help, but no one answered. No one would.
"Help..." she sobbed, her voice fading with each breath. Her blood pooled beneath her, the forest drinking her in like she never existed.
The wolf stopped circling. Its glowing white eyes narrowed. Then, without warning, it lunged.
Devin flinched—stick raised—but his body moved on instinct. He dodged to the side, though not without cost. The wolf's claws raked across his shoulder, tearing through fabric and skin.
He gasped, adrenaline flooding his system. But what came with it wasn't fear. It was something else. Something closer to euphoria.
The wolf suddenly recoiled. It stared at him—really stared—ears flattened, tail low. Then, without a sound, it turned and bolted into the shadows.
Devin blinked. "...What?"
He stood there, dazed, stick still clutched in his bloodied hand. His breaths were heavy, but his grin was wider than it had any right to be. "That's right... run," he muttered, his voice hollow.
Then he turned.
And saw her.
A woman knelt beside Sandra's motionless body. Her soft pink hair looked surreal under the pale purple sky. She touched the side of Sandra's neck, then let her hand fall.
"She cried for help until she couldn't anymore," the woman said quietly. Her voice was flat, but there was something beneath it. Sympathy, maybe. Or disappointment.
Devin stared, jaw clenched. He didn't know what to say. His mind raced with questions—Who is she? Where did she come from? Why is there a sword strapped to her back like some anime character?
He fumbled for something familiar. Reached into his jacket. Pulled out a tightly wrapped joint with trembling fingers and lit it, sucking in the smoke like it was oxygen. His bleeding shoulder throbbed, but he barely noticed.
The pink-haired woman stood up, facing him fully. Her emerald eyes were piercing, judgmental.
"Who was she to you?"
Devin exhaled slowly. "No one," he muttered. "Just met her here."
"You sure as hell didn't act like it." Her voice sharpened. "You risked your life for her."
Devin took another drag, eyes avoiding hers. "I didn't plan to," he said. "Just... happened."
"Don't bullshit me." She stepped forward, tone rising. "People like you don't just risk it all for nothing. What's your deal? Fame? Or your over-bloated ego?"
Devin scoffed, bitter. "People die every day. She's not the first. Won't be the last." He pointed at her sword. "Don't tell me you're squeaky clean either."
"I'm not," she said, firm. "I've killed. But I don't pretend I don't care when someone dies five feet in front of me."
Something in Devin cracked at that. He stepped closer, eyes narrowed. "You don't know a damn thing about me," he said, breath thick with weed. "Don't act like you do."
"No," she replied calmly. "But I know pain when I see it. And you're either running from it or trying to bury it in smoke."
He flinched.
She started walking away, blade shifting on her back with each step. "I don't have time for addicts with death wishes," she said over her shoulder. "If you want to live, you'd better start acting like it."
Devin stood there, frozen. Alone.
He looked down at the joint in his fingers, then at Sandra's body.
And for the first time in a long while... the high didn't feel good. In fact, it gave him clarity on what he had done. He had forsaken a human's life like it was nothing. He shook his head and dragged in more smoke—he wasn't going to change his philosophy over someone's death. People die every day.
He stood there over Sandra's lifeless body, contemplating whether or not to leave her be. He finally gave in to his intrusive thoughts to at least bury her. He didn't have any tools to start digging with, but he knew there were big leaves around.
He gathered as much as he could and used them to cover up Sandra's corpse. He went to and fro several times until her body was fully covered with leaves. He noticed the pink-haired lady staring at him from a tree she leaned on.
"Looks like you've got a heart after all," she said flatly, without life in her voice—but sarcasm could still be perceived in it.
"Piss off, would ya?" Devin scoffed, trying not to look into her eyes—not because they were rare and beautiful, but because he might give in to the emotions he was feeling.
He wasn't supposed to be feeling them. He wasn't supposed to be attached to humanity, so why... why did it hurt so much even if he didn't know her?
Devin took out the half-burnt joint from his mouth and threw it to the ground. He decided to blame it all on being high at the wrong time. He faced the tree the pink-haired lady leaned on and found her still there.
"What are you still doing here? I remember telling you to piss off," Devin said, without malice or rage in his voice this time. He was just trying to find something to distract him from the emotions.
"Unlike you, I'll honor the dead person's last wish."
"Which is?" Devin raised an eyebrow.
"To save you. She probably knew she wasn't going to survive, but she wanted someone to save you. She was brave," the pink-haired lady said and bent her head down a little bit.
"Thanks, but I don't need your saving. I'm safe. See? No monsters attacking." Devin raised his arms boastfully.
"Unfortunately, I don't let people die while I'm around just because they smell like burnt garbage or look like a dying raccoon," she said.
"So you're just going to stalk me?" Devin asked with a flirty tone that caused her to give him a revolted expression.
"Ew. No." She backed off a step. "I'm giving you a chance to follow me until you find your way home or piss me off."
"Alright. What's your name? If it's Sakura, I'm gonna go crazy." Devin moved closer to her but kept a reasonable distance between them.
"Excuse me?" She raised an eyebrow, accompanied by a disgusted look.
"I mean, what's your name?"
"Aquafinn. 'Sah-kuura' in my dialect means trash can." She walked through the forest, cutting down the branches in her path with her unsheathed sword while Devin simply followed from behind.
"Haha. Good one." Devin laughed as he followed behind.
---
Back on Earth.
In a white office that could pass off as a living room—or the other way around—a woman sat on a fancy turnaround chair with a clipboard in hand. She tapped along the sides, not out of nervousness but out of boredom. She checked her silver wristwatch, then back at the clipboard, which she marked with a pencil.
She stared at the clipboard once again.
Patient: Devin Cardenas
Session #: 16 Absent
Presenting: Risk-seeking behavior, emotional detachment, suspected substance abuse, low but possible psychopathic tendencies.
Notes: Increased hostility when discussing familial loss. Denies trauma, but body language indicates otherwise.
Intervention: Introduced basic CBT model. Limited engagement.
Plan: Monitor for escalation; assess readiness for referral.
Then she added it into a file.
"I wonder what's his excuse this time around." She sighed, then took off her glasses to rub her nose bridge.
---
"What do you mean you've been here for a long time?" Devin stared at her like she had just told him his date of death. "Wait, then how did you get here? Mine was a mistake, but you look prepared."
"I have a way home. But you—probably a stray rift brought you here." Aquafinn kept walking, her ash-grey cloak fluttering slightly behind her, her black boots crunching over cracked roots and leaves.
"You know so much about this place. Where are we?" Devin rushed to her side.
"In a forest, dumbass." She kept her tone flat.
"That's not what I meant. Wait—did you just use sarcasm? You do have a sense of humor." He laughed, but she didn't even show a single shred of emotion on her face as she walked. Her demeanor killed the conversation immediately.
The trees were getting scantier at this point. They were already facing a plain stretch of land with little to no trees. In a short distance, they could see architecture, but it wasn't discernible from their position. They moved forward.
It was a town... or what was left of one. The structures were humanoid in design—stone walls, metal rooftops, and wooden windows—but the proportions were too off. Too wide or too low. It was like an alien tried mimicking human settlement.
"Is this..." Devin began.
"Dead." Aquafinn cut him off before he could ask any questions. Devin followed.
As they wandered the silent town, Devin examined everything—rusted tools left in place, children's toys half-buried in the dirt, murals on buildings that glowed faintly when touched. He stopped once at a stall with decayed fruit still clinging to a wooden basket. The color was long gone, replaced by a dull gray fuzz.
"Who lived here?" he asked.
She didn't answer. Or she didn't know either.
They reached a plaza near the center. There, a fountain still stood, dry and cracked, its centerpiece a statue of a humanoid figure holding up a spiraling star. It looked vaguely celestial, like some god of a black hole or something.
Aquafinn set her sword down beneath the statue and began preparing a camp from materials she pulled out of nowhere.
"You're just… staying here?" Devin asked.
"No safer place for miles," she muttered.
"Wait. Where are those things coming from?" Devin asked the bigger question.
"You mean my Pulse space?" she asked without sparing him a glance.
"It is probably an inventory system thingy, right?" Devin tried, using his knowledge of a few fictional books and games.
"A Pulse space is a pocket inside your inner realm. It's complicated to explain to someone like you." She finally set up the camp, not worrying about sharing the same tent with Devin, as survival was far more important than shame.
"I'm not trying to be a burden," he said eventually. "I just… can't go back to the way things were. Even if I could. The world's dull. Numb. This place—this chaos—it makes me feel something."
Aquafinn didn't look at him.
"You're an idiot," she said.
"Yeah. But I'm your idiot now."
"Ew."
The wind picked up, and the night sky fluttered.
She finally spoke again, more quietly this time. "Get some rest. We leave at dawn."