The moment they stepped across the threshold of the ancient building, the world shifted.
There was no trap, no trigger, no sense of falling—only a soft, emerald light blooming beneath their feet. It flickered once like a heartbeat, then expanded in a quiet burst of brilliance, swallowing them whole.
By the time their eyes adjusted, they were no longer together.
Each found themselves alone—transported to an unfamiliar realm.
It was neither a cave nor a ruin.
The ground was soft and moss-covered, shaped like a perfect circle, and gave beneath their feet with the slightest step. It felt alive—springy and damp, like fresh earth after rainfall.
The air shimmered faintly with mana, laced with the scent of growing things. Earth, mint, rainwater.
Dozens of glowing sprouts protruded from the soil in neat rows—some standing perfectly still, others faintly twitching. Each emitted a soft, pulsating glow in varying colors, ranging from pale green to crimson and even ghostly white.
