In a place wrapped in endless fog, silence hung like breath held by the world itself. A girl appeared, draped in a white dress, her hair flowing like mist, white as snowfall with strands of deepest black. Her eyes glowed a soft, radiant green, untouched by time.
With each step she took, the fog drew back, folding away like curtains unveiling wonder. Around her, lifeless flowers stirred awake, blooming as if drawn to her presence, gentle colors bursting from stillness.
She reached a withered tree, ancient and bare. As her hand touched its bark, life bloomed through it like a forgotten song remembered. Leaves unfurled, branches arched skyward, and the tree stood tall once more, crowned in vivid green.
Then, the fog melted. Light filtered in, soft and warm. Everywhere, flowers swayed in bloom. Streams trickled like laughter reborn. The world became a dream of color, scent, and calm—a secret garden awakened.
And at the center, she stood in silence beneath the great tree, her green eyes glimmering like dew at dawn.
"W–Where am I? What is this place… and who is that girl? Am I dreaming?" Eryx whispered, his brown eyes scanning the surreal garden from afar. He watched the figure in white, her presence too vivid for a dream. "No place like this exists in our world. It has to be a dream… right?"
"No," a soft voice replied—unexpectedly close. "You're mistaken. This place does exist… on a forgotten edge of Essentia."
The girl with glowing green eyes and flowing white hair stood beside him, her gaze fixed on the great tree alive with shimmering leaves.
Startled, Eryx tried to stand, but collapsed. Again and again he struggled, only to fall each time. Panic crept in. "What's happening…? Why can't I move? Am I… am I dying?"
"Don't be afraid," she said gently. "This is the world that awaits all living beings before death. But it is also a place where miracles can bloom… where a second chance is possible."
Eryx clenched his fists. "Fine. I get it now. Just tell me what I need to do to survive… to return."
He paused, voice lowering. "Though, honestly… It's not like anyone's waiting for me. My family… they died because of that cursed god."
Then his tone hardened, eyes burning. "But I'll still have my revenge. I'll kill her with my own hands."
"…Is that so?" the girl murmured, turning her gaze to him. "Very well. I will awaken you once more. Let's see what you're truly capable of. Will you be worthy of his power… or merely a broken boy chasing vengeance?"
Eryx stared at her, questions rising like tides in his chest. Who is she? Why is she helping him? And—most of all—whose power have I been chosen to wield?
The girl with white hair walked in silence, her gaze fixed on the towering tree cloaked in lush green. Without turning, she spoke to Eryx, her voice soft but firm.
"Before you ask who I am, I'll tell you. But once I do, there will be no more questions. The rest… you'll come to understand in time."
Eryx exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "Alright, fine. Then who are you? Tell me."
"I am Layla," she said, her tone calm, resonant. "The god of darkness. Though some call me the daughter of the God of Freedom."
She paused, her gaze drifting to the rustling leaves above. "Forget everything for now. It's time for you to return—to awaken in the mortal world."
Eryx blinked, struggling to take it all in. "The God of Freedom… the one who created this world?" His voice trembled between awe and disbelief. "No wonder you're so—"
He paused, then added under his breath, "So beautiful."
His eyes didn't leave her. "What do I have to do?"
"Nothing," she said. "It's not yours to carry."
She raised her hand and pressed it gently to his chest. The fingers unfurled, and with a subtle flicker of light, they passed into him.
Eryx gasped.
His eyes flew open. His breath caught—tight, sharp, as though an unseen force were squeezing his lungs. His mouth opened to speak, but the pain stole his voice. He convulsed, trembling.
"I'll see you in the other world… Moretti," Layla whispered, her hand slowly withdrawing.
As her fingers left him, his body began to dissolve into the air, fading like dust caught in the wind.
"AHHHHH—!"
Eryx jolted awake, screaming, gasping. "I can't breathe—I can't—"
His chest heaved as he sucked in air, panic giving way to groggy awareness. His eyes darted around until he found a young elf girl sleeping on a chair beside him—blonde hair cascading down her shoulder, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
"Where… Where am I now?" he whispered. "Am I… out of that dream?"
Slowly, he tried to stand. He reached out toward a jug of water on the nearby table, but as his fingers brushed it, the pot slipped from his hand and crashed to the floor.
The elf girl snapped awake.
"You idiot!" she scolded, rushing to his side. "You're still recovering—don't push yourself."
She steadied him, helping him sit back down. Then she poured him water, holding the cup to his lips until his shaking stopped.
As he looked around, Eryx realized where he was: a grand, palatial chamber. Rich crimson cloth draped over a canopied bed where he had lain, bound to the four posts like a royal cocoon. On the wall, a large portrait caught his attention—a girl with white hair, her hand resting solemnly on a figure cloaked in swirling black mist.
His breath hitched.
"…Layla," he muttered. "That's her—the girl from my dream. What's her painting doing here?"
"So," the elf girl said, smiling faintly, "you met her in the world of consciousness. No wonder you woke so quickly."
Eryx turned to her, eyes sharp now. "Who are you? Where am I?"
The girl's expression shifted. After a pause, she replied softly, "My name is Mariya. I'm the leader of this land."
She held his gaze.
"This is the Underworld—the realm of devils."
—Chapter 4 ends—