No one saw Elias the next morning.
His mother thought he left early. His teachers assumed he was sick. But Elias felt none of their absence—because he wasn't in their world anymore.
He was walking through Elyria barefoot, feeling grass under his toes, drinking in the warmth of a sun he had made himself. The creatures he designed nuzzled against him like loyal pets. The river reflected a version of himself that looked… happy.
Elyria shaped itself to comfort him.
If he was sad, skies softened.
If he was afraid, mountains stood taller.
If he was lonely, creatures gathered around him.
It was perfect.
Too perfect.
Days turned into weeks—but Elias didn't notice. Time inside Elyria flowed like honey, slow and sweet. He forgot hunger, forgot pain, forgot the sound of slammed doors.
He forgot the world that forgot him.