The towering figure, shrouded in whatever budget Halloween cloak it had stolen from a metaphysical spirit store, stared Ren down with those blinding void-eyes.
The ground cracked beneath it. Lightning almost struck. The music almost crescendoed.
Then—
It just… vanished.
Poof.
Like someone pulled its plug mid-boss-fight.
"What the hell?" Ren blinked. "That's it? No final speech? Not even a you haven't seen the last of me?"
FROST:
"I've had scarier moments finding old socks under the bed."
BLAZE:
"Did he just rage-quit the narrative?"
Before Ren could even toss a confused insult, the sky coughed — yes, it made a weird, wet coughing sound — and a random portal tore open behind him like reality was tired of waiting for drama and just opened the backstage door.
CORE:
"Fine. I'll patch the dimensional hole. Happy now, you timeline-meddling raccoon?"
The portal looked like a spiral of shattered mirrors dunked in milk, spinning aggressively like it had a deadline.
"Well, that looks stable enough to kill me," Ren muttered, and without any grace or thought, he dived in.
☄️**[DRIFT MODE: ACTIVATED]**
If time was a smoothie, someone just tried to drink it with their nose.
Ren's body twisted through abstract shapes — clocks melting into hands, hands clapping back, cities collapsing upward, space curling like a cat.
At some point, he was certain a sock hit him in the face.
"Why is my left knee narrating its own memoir—" he screamed, then got smacked by what felt like a sarcasm-powered wind.
His brain was overloading, the Aetherium fragments screaming inside his body like a rave playlist with no bass drop.
And then—
BOOM.
He slammed face-first into the exit gate, which dropped him like a used tissue onto a soft, glowing field.
Ren gasped, rolled over—
—and promptly passed the fuck out.
[Sometime Later…]
His eyes fluttered open.
Everything was a blur. His ears were ringing like he owed a bell money. His head throbbed like someone let Frost play dubstep directly inside his cerebellum.
"Nnngh... where...?"
He sat up.
And froze.
Because this wasn't the Earth he knew. This wasn't even Earth adjacent.
He'd landed in—
🌌 CALDRITH VERGE
A sky of fragmented stars floated above, suspended like shattered glass frozen in mid-explosion.
The ground was… soft, like walking on pulse-lit moss.
Massive geometric structures hovered mid-air, turning slowly, ancient symbols glowing along their faces.
Waterfalls flowed upward from obsidian cliffs into shimmering clouds that whispered in languages no one had invented yet.
And at the far edge?
A broken moon — like a cosmic skull — rotated slowly, cracked open like it had secrets to spill.
"...Okay," Ren groaned, brushing glowing dust from his arm. "I either died, or I just unlocked God's DLC."
CORE (half-teasing, half-serious):
"Welcome to Caldrith Verge. Temporal Zone: Undefined.
Probability of vomiting: 43%.
Sanity retention: well… you."
FROST:
"Don't lick anything."
BLAZE:
"Unless it licks you first."
Ren stood there, body sore, brain slightly scrambled like interdimensional eggs, but heart pumping.
This wasn't the end.
It was the start of something cosmic, cursed, and deeply sarcastic.
And somewhere in this fractured, beautiful mess…
Was the last piece.
Ren stumbled forward, boots pressing into the glowing moss of Caldrith Verge.
The terrain felt like... rubbery gel. Or tofu made by aliens with a lighting fetish.
The air shimmered with faint light and digital flickers, as if the code of the world hadn't fully rendered.
He blinked.
Paused.
Then asked the very reasonable question:
"Wait… why am I breathing?!"
🌬️ Cue: Science Mode
CORE (calm, smugly technical):
"Oxygen-nitrogen composition: 87/12 split. Slightly higher density than Earth-normal.
Temperature: 26.1°C.
Wind pattern: randomized spiral vortexes.
Gravity: 0.73G — hence the mild bounce in your step and the fact that your butt didn't shatter when you landed face-first."
Ren froze mid-step.
"Wait… gravity's what now?"
He jumped slightly.
Came down like a feather.
"...Holy shit. I'm Moon Jesus."
BLAZE (materializing beside him):
"Scanning for life signatures and tectonic stability... Found neither. So basically, it's a beautifully rendered death trap."
FROST (appearing with a calm smirk):
"I'm detecting multiple anomalies. Spatial density knots. Electromagnetic pulses. And… is that a floating cow?"
Ren looked up.
A rock — no, not just a rock — a small floating island shaped like a banana, was slowly rotating midair with grass growing sideways and what looked suspiciously like a herd of tiny blob-creatures bouncing on it like it was a trampoline.
Below that? A jagged trench spewing golden vapor straight up like reverse lava.
"This is not a plain," Ren muttered. "This is an acid trip hosted by space."
He turned his head to the left—
and watched a tree walk five steps before freezing like it didn't want to be caught.
"That tree moved. Did you see that?!"
FROST:
"Nope. You're just hallucinating. Or maybe the tree's shy."
BLAZE:
"No tectonic plates. No sun. Yet light and gravity persist. I hate it here."
🔬 Caldrith Verge: The Stats
CORE (projecting holographic UI):
"This region is a stabilized fragment loop. Time does not flow forward. It spirals in quantum-laced whirlpools across interdimensional scaffolding.
In human terms:
You're standing in a paradox holding itself together with duct tape made of forgotten realities."
Ren turned, pale.
"So I'm not only lost in space—I'm lost in someone else's recycled time garbage?"
CORE:
"Precisely."
BLAZE:
"Imagine reality farted. This is what got left behind."
FROST:
"It's actually kinda cute. In a 'wow I might die if I look at it wrong' way."
As he stood there, looking at the impossible — levitating stones like hot-air balloons, glowing vines slithering up into hovering crystals, gravity flipping for three seconds like it changed its mind — Ren realized something:
He had no idea what this place really was.
But it was real.
It was waiting.
And so was something else.
Something deeper.
Something that had been whispering his name across timelines.
Time: 2 Earth-hours since impact.
Location: Still somehow in Caldrith Verge. Somewhere. Maybe.
Ren's boots squished into glowing moss for what felt like the 800th consecutive squish. The terrain changed three times: from floating stone steps to upside-down lily pads and now into a forest made of crystalline trees that hummed when you passed by.
He was sweaty.
Annoyed.
And definitely ready to commit minor arson.
"I've walked in circles. And spirals. And—was that a Mobius strip?!"
CORE (teasing):
"Yes. You looped back on yourself. Twice. Proud of you, little paradox."
"No shelter. No food. No coffee. This is the worst camping trip ever."
⏱️ [2:13 Earth Hours – "Finally, a Ping"]
Suddenly, Blaze's optic glowed a sharp crimson and projected a faint 3D overlay into the air.
BLAZE:
"Hold up. Something pinged. 3.7 km north. Life signatures. Multiple. Stable."
REN: "FINALLY. My feet are planning a mutiny."
Frost's glow sharpened too — icy and focused.
FROST:
"Also… architecture detected. Structural shift in terrain. Looks like…"
"...a city. Or what this world thinks a city is."
"A city?! What, with interdimensional coffee shops and aggressive space bureaucracy?"
CORE:
"Actually, more like clustered relic-zones bound by temporal resonance fields. But yes, probably overpriced pastries."
The skyline bent inward like an hourglass, with buildings suspended upside-down, tethered by glowing cables that pulsed like veins. Bridges made of crystallized sound waves arched between towers. Roads shimmered with liquid light, gently rearranging themselves as if the city didn't like staying still.
A massive billboard floated over the entrance gate, displaying scrolling glyphs that rearranged into readable text:
"Welcome to Vire-Laravé: Sanctuary of Folded Time"
(Date: ∞:03:Ω12 – Phase Alignment: 8 Drift Units)
(Visitors: 1)
Ren stared at it.
"What the hell kind of fantasy calendar sounds like a Wi-Fi password...?"
He approached the perimeter slowly, crouching behind what looked like a stack of oversized salt crystals.
No guards. No alarms. Just the pulsing hum of arcane tech and vibrating silence.
"I should observe first," Ren whispered to himself. "No sudden moves. No screaming. No hugging glowing trash bins even if they wink at me again."
A figure emerged in the distance.
Then another.
And another.
They looked... human.
But not.
Their eyes shimmered like galaxies.Their veins glowed faintly beneath translucent skin.Some had horns, some had trailing neon tattoos, one casually floated mid-air like gravity owed them money.
And every single one of them radiated power — not just physical, but something else. An aura. A pressure. Like they had the ability to fold reality into origami on a bad day.
FROST (quietly impressed):
"Each one has a unique mana signature. Elemental. Chrono-kinetic. Some of them have spatial bindings. You are officially underpowered now."
BLAZE:
"Correction: You were always underpowered. Now it's just embarrassing."
Ren sighed.
"Yup. Just an Earthling with trauma, sarcasm, and cursed eyeballs. This'll go great."
He stepped into the open.
One of the city's inhabitants turned, eyes locking with his — silver irises, glowing symbols across their collarbones.
They blinked, tilted their head…
And smiled.
"Well, here goes nothing," Ren muttered. "Time to ask for help... or get adopted by space wizards. Honestly? I'll take either."