The sky held sun a soft orange glow—beautiful, gentle enough that the naked eye could gaze upon it without pain.
Along the riverbank, birds chirped as they skimmed the surface of the water, wings brushing ripples into existence.
"You see the sky?" Kali said, stretching his arms wide. "So vast. So free. It goes wherever it wants."
"Here we go again," Kalam laughed.
"Don't interrupt me," Kali snapped, poking him in the face. Then he turned to Ajay, eyes shining.
"Ajay… let's leave this place. Let's live somewhere free."
Kalam stiffened.
"Don't fill his head with false hope," he said quietly. "Or we'll end up like him-."
The words dropped like a stone into still water.
Silence.
Kalam's eyes widened as realization hit him.
Kali swallowed hard.
Both turned toward Ajay.
"I—I didn't mean that," Kali stammered. "Ajay, listen—"
"Ajay!"
"Ajay!"
"AJAY!!!"
Ajay jolted awake, his head snapping forward.
Instead of the hard ground, his face sank into something warm and yielding.
For a heartbeat, his foggy mind didn't question it. Then his hand moved instinctively, pressing down slightly as he tried to push himself upright—
And froze.
This wasn't pillow.
This wasn't earth.
The softness gave way under his palm in a way nothing else ever had.
Understanding hit him all at once.
His eyes widened.
He had leaned straight into Meera.
Ajay recoiled so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, his face turning a shade of red that rivaled the strange orange sky.
"I—I'm sorry!" he blurted, waving his hands frantically. "I thought you were a pillow! I mean—it was soft, but—no! That's not what I meant!"
Meera let out a soft, melodic laugh, clearly amused by his panic.
"It's alright, little one," she said calmly. "Certainly better than hitting a rock."
She tilted her head slightly, eyes glinting with curiosity.
"Now tell me—how are you feeling?"
"I feel… dizzy."
"That's expected," another voice said—older, deeper, carrying weight.
"First-time dimensional travel is harsh. Still, I didn't expect you to pass out. You're even weaker than I thought."
Before Ajay could defend himself, the Old Man gestured toward a small pile nearby.
"Eat. You'll need strength. We don't have the luxury of waiting."
Ajay froze.
"…Fruits?"
His eyes lit up.
Fruits were a luxury—things nobles ate, not children like him.
He grabbed them eagerly, stuffing them into his mouth, chewing too fast, nearly choking.
"Slow down," Meera said, worry creeping into her voice. "Chew properly."
Ajay obeyed, cheeks full.
Warmth spread through his body as his stomach filled—truly filled—for the first time that he could remember.
For the first time, he felt… content.
"You were starving to be able to eat all of it alone" the Old Man remarked, his tone teasing—but not unkind.
Ajay rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed.
"We'll hunt something more substantial later," Meera added with a chuckle.
Ajay finally looked around. "Where… are we?"
"Did you only just notice?" the Old Man asked, surprised.
They sat within a wide valley enclosed by jagged mountains and low shrubs. No tall trees stood here—only coarse grass swaying beneath a cold, unnatural breeze. The sky above was dim and unfamiliar, neither day nor night.
"We're in a dimensional gap," the Old Man said. "An access point to a Dungeon."
Ajay frowned, the words slipping past him.
"We'll explain later," the Old Man continued. "We can't stay exposed."
They approached what looked like an ordinary cave—but the moment Ajay stepped inside, the world changed.
The air grew heavy. Pressure pressed against his skin, thick and wrong.
They reached a hollow chamber and lit a small campfire. Light filtered through narrow cracks in the stone ceiling, just enough to keep the darkness at bay.
"Meera" the Old Man said, "stay with Ajay and gather wood. I'll hunt."
"Yes, Captain," she replied.
'So her name is Meera', Ajay thought.
She caught him staring and smiled.
"You can call me Meera too."
"But you're an elder," Ajay said earnestly. "In my village, calling an elder by their name is a crime. You get beaten until you beg for mercy."
A memory flashed through his mind—being thrashed just for calling Raman's son, who was only a year older, by his name.
Meera's expression softened. She patted his head.
"Then 'Miss Meera' it is. Shall we get that wood?"
As they walked, Ajay's questions spilled out.
"Why are we running? Who are the Watchers? What are dimensions? Where were we before—"
"Slow down," Meera said gently. "I'll answer what I can."
She climbed a tree with practiced ease, snapping branches by hand.
"There are three worlds," she explained. "Upper, Middle, and Lower. Each contains countless dimensions. We're in the Lower World, Upper Dimension. The deeper you go, the rarer magic becomes."
She jumped down as Ajay stacked the wood.
"The place you were taken from is the Spirit Realm. Separate from all others. You won't understand it yet—so remember that for later."
They returned to camp just as the Captain emerged from the shadows, dragging the corpse of a Saltus.
It resembled a massive grasshopper—seven feet tall, six huge legs pointed at ends, serrated limbs, thick chitinous armor.
"You caught a big one," Meera said. "This will last days."
As the meat cooked, the fire crackled softly, pushing back the dungeon's cold just enough to feel human. Shadows danced along the walls as Ajay stared into the flames, his stomach finally quiet.
For a moment, it almost felt safe.
The Captain broke the silence.
"We'll rest until the spatial pressure stabilizes," he said. "Once the distortion weakens, we move."
Ajay frowned. "There's no time here… how will we know?"
Meera pointed to the cave wall. Faint ripples shimmered like heat over stone.
"When those fluctuations slow," she said, "this place stops hiding us."
"That's when tracking begins," the Captain added.
He stared into the tunnel beyond the firelight.
"The first layer lies below. Once we descend, their sight dulls."
Ajay's stomach tightened.
This wasn't a shelter.
It was a hiding place with an expiration date.
"Listen carefully, Ajay," the Captain said, his tone grave.
"You cannot return—not now. A Watcher has noticed you. As long as it's aware of your existence, the outside world is unsafe."
He paused.
"I've seen what happens when they grow curious."
Silence followed.
"For now, you must remain within Dungeons. Even Watchers struggle to observe dimensional gaps—but don't mistake them for safety. Suspicion alone is enough for them to follow."
He met Ajay's eyes.
"So I'll be direct. I offer you a choice."
"Become my disciple. I will make you strong—strong enough that even a Watcher will hesitate."
Meera's eyes widened.
"Captain… we didn't discuss this."
He didn't look away eyes fixed on Ajay.
Meera knelt beside Ajay, her voice gentle.
"This is your choice. If you don't want this path, we'll still help you."
She placed a hand on his shoulder.
"We can guide you home. It won't be easy, and it will take time—but we won't abandon you."
The fire popped loudly.
"What she says is true," the Captain said calmly. "This is not a threat. It's an opportunity."
"So tell me, Ajay."
"What do you choose?"
Ajay swallowed.
"Home…?"
The word tasted distant—like something remembered through fog.