Suddenly, a blinding flash ripped through the sky—white-hot and deafening. BOOM! The sound rolled like thunder, vibrating through the ground. Orimo and Ryuki were thrown off balance. The world spun.
When they opened their eyes, they were no longer in the palace. Everything was silent. Birds didn't sing. The wind barely whispered. They were on an unknown island, its shore shrouded in mist, the waves slapping against jagged rocks.
Ryuki: "What… happened?"
Orimo: "I… I don't know."
From the edge of the tree line, a man appeared. His face drained of color, his eyes wide with terror.
"He's from the Malevolent Generation!" he screamed, before turning and vanishing into the dense foliage as if swallowed by the forest itself.
Orimo's brow furrowed. "What's going on with him?"
Ryuki scanned the island cautiously, her hand hovering near her sword. "No idea… but we need to be careful."
Orimo took a step forward, the sand crunching beneath his boots. "Well… let's go."
The forest loomed ahead—dark, tangled, and alive with unseen sounds. Shadows twisted between the trunks, and a faint, almost imperceptible hum vibrated through the air, as if the island itself were watching them.