Seijirou opened his eyes, shielding them for a moment against a brilliance that felt cleaner than any light he had ever known.
When his vision cleared, he found himself standing on a wide, meticulously paved stone terrace on the very peak of a mountain.
Before him, a set of ancient stone stairs, worn smooth by the passage of countless invisible feet, led down toward a small, humble village nestled in the valley below.
He looked around in a daze. The scenery was breathtaking—a lush, vibrant tapestry of greens and golds that felt more "real" than the world he had left behind.
A gentle breeze, smelling of pine needles and wild lilies, brushed against his skin, and the warm rays of the sun felt like a comforting embrace.
Everything was... peaceful.
There was no scent of rot, no sound of screaming, and no weight of corruption.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
The voice was like a low-tuned bell, melodic and carrying an ancient resonance.
"Yes. Very much so," Seijirou replied softly.
