[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: Rumpelstadt]
A faint exhale ghosted through the filters of his helm — a weary sigh.
("Three weeks, and I've made little progress. Hm.")
The thought drifted through his mind as his gaze — filtered through faint lenses — followed the dim expanse of the overcast sky. The light above was colorless, and almost mournful, as though the skies had been drained of life.
("This realm… I've been here before, haven't I?")
He tilted his head slightly, as though trying to remember something distant — a faint pull of déjà vu.
("Well, no matter. I suppose I'll continue using the name Dante for now.")
The decision carried little weight. Names were just placeholders, after all — fragile identifiers in a realm that seemed to forget its own history.
He finally turned his attention from the dull heavens to the world around him.
