In a compact chamber designed like a vintage radio booth, a man sat in front of a console outfitted with tangled wires and blinking monitors. A large microphone hung in front of his face, suspended from a flexible metal arm. He wore sleek over-ear headphones and dark aviator sunglasses that reflected the soft blue glow of the screens. The room was cramped, lined with aged acoustic foam and cables snaking underfoot. On the main monitor, a static-heavy image displayed an army of stone golems, frozen mid-charge on a rocky plateau.
A voice spoke through the headphones, "Why have the golems stopped?"
The man leaned into the mic and spoke with hushed urgency. "That sound—that's the juggernaut of the mountains. A skyborn predator. They ride the wind like waves and burn the air when they descend. And those golems? They're prey."
He then leaned back in his seat and mumbled to himself, "Come on, Recruit... hold it together."
He ran a hand down his face, visibly strained. They couldn't afford to keep losing people. Numbers mattered now—every survivor counted. If their plan was going to work, they needed to gather and classify every potential talent. Especially ones that have already shown talent like this one.
The man exhaled slowly, watching the figure on the screen as he dislodged from the ridge and began skidding down the cliff face into the clouds.
A voice cut through the tension. A woman stood at the door, clipboard in hand. "Progress on the new recruit?"
The man rolled his eyes behind the glasses. "Not great. He just fell off a mountain."
"K.I.A?"
"Looks that way. An altercation with a Titan-class. Can't do much about that. I'll report back if he survives."
She gave a curt nod and turned away. The heavy door closed behind her, sealing the sound back into the room. Outside, a long corridor stretched in sterile silence, lined with numbered doors—each one monitoring a different person.
Back inside, the man pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead, rubbed his temples, and sighed. Then, as the screen began to flicker with new colour data, he slipped the glasses back on and leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
Riley's hair streamed behind him as he skidded down the face of a jagged cliff on a slab of stone. Wind howled around him, numbing his hands and slicing through his damp clothes. Fog blanketed the world around him, hiding everything beyond the cold stone racing beneath him.
His fingers gripped the edge desperately, already raw and trembling. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on.
Then came the jolt. The slab slammed into a rocky protrusion. The impact jarred Riley loose, flinging him into the air. The cliff disappeared behind him, swallowed by fog. For a moment, he was weightless.
Then, impact. But not with stone.
Soft, powdery snow caught his fall like a cushion from heaven. He plunged into it, snow piling around him, cold rushing into every crevice.
"Oh hell, kid! How on Earth are you still alive?!" Proxy's voice exploded in his ear.
Riley lay still, stunned, the breath knocked clean out of him. After a minute of just staring up at the ghostly fog swirling above, he began to move.
It took effort, clawing his way out of the snowdrift, his limbs numb and sluggish. Once free, he rose unsteadily to his feet. Fog still blanketed everything.
"Hey, Proxy... where am I now?"
Static crackled. "I don't know. Not until the fog clears. Unless there's a landmark or something unique… I'm blind here."
Riley sighed. "Figures."
He turned toward what he assumed was forward or rather down. He had to get off this massive snow pile first. And so he began walking. There was no plan, just instinct and the desire not to be crushed by falling golem chunks.
The fog was thick enough to choke on. He could barely see more than a few meters ahead. Eventually, the snowy ground levelled out. And the snow quantity started to decrease.
Riley stumbled forward into the fog, his boots crunching softly over the frost-laced grass. Each step felt aimless, swallowed by the heavy, grey mist that hugged the earth like a second skin. He couldn't see more than a few meters ahead—just the faded outline of his feet and the occasional dark shape that may or may not have been real. The air was damp, cold, and unnervingly quiet, save for the faint rustle of distant wind brushing through unseen foliage.
His arms were scraped and sore, his hands still trembling from the cliffside ordeal. Falling from such a height, surviving by dumb luck and a heap of snow, his body hadn't caught up with the reality of it, and neither had his mind.
Everything felt muffled, like the world itself had sunk underwater. His thoughts wandered restlessly: Was this another part of Velura? Were there more creatures like the Oculus lurking nearby? He hoped not. He didn't even have a knife anymore.
"Where the hell am I now?" he muttered, his voice swallowed instantly by the mist. No echo. No response.
Then—crack.
His head collided with something hard.
"Ah—crap," Riley hissed, stumbling back and clutching his forehead. He squinted, trying to make out what he'd just walked into.
A tree.
He blinked a few times, rubbing the sore spot on his head as the bark came into focus—if he could even call it bark. The trunk shimmered faintly in the fog, its surface dark and slick like obsidian. What caught his eye next made him freeze.
The branches.
Faint wisps of blue light clung to them, dancing like fire—but without smoke, without heat. He slowly stepped around the tree, eyes widening as he took in the glowing limbs. The light flickered gently, casting a ghostly halo in the fog.
It was… burning. But not burning.
He reached a hand toward it, cautiously, expecting to feel warmth. There was none. Just a strange, electric stillness. The light licked at the edges of his vision like a memory he couldn't place.
All around him, the fog began to glow faintly too—scattered pinpricks of blue light shimmering in the mist, like stars swallowed by clouds. He turned in place, watching as the forest slowly revealed itself: more trees, just like the one he hit, stood tall and silent in the fog, each crowned with cold, spectral fire.
Riley's mouth hung slightly open, awe replacing fear—if only for a moment.
His earbud crackled to life.
"Oh," Proxy said with a spark of recognition in his voice, "now I know where we are."
Riley didn't respond, still staring up at the burning branches overhead.
"That tree you just kissed with your forehead? That's a Burning Tree. They only grow in Luraleth Wood. Which means… we're a lot closer to our destination than I thought."
Riley's awe flickered, replaced by a slow-forming frown.
"Wait… 'destination'?" he said, finally finding his voice again. "What exactly am I about to walk into?"
Proxy's pause was just long enough to be suspicious.
"Trust me, you'll want to see this place."
Riley stared into the fireless flames, the soft blue glow painting his face.
"Yeah… we'll see about that."