The first thing Haruto learned about cities was that they were loud.
The second thing he learned was that nobody cared.
A merchant shouted about fresh fruit.
A blacksmith argued with a customer.
Children sprinted through the streets.
Somewhere nearby, a dog was losing an argument with a cart.
Nobody stopped.
Nobody stared.
Life simply continued.
After weeks in the Sea of Glass, it felt overwhelming.
Haruto found himself walking slightly behind Lyra.
Not intentionally.
The woman simply moved through crowds with frightening efficiency.
People stepped aside.
Merchants greeted her.
Several travelers nodded in recognition.
She clearly belonged here.
Haruto didn't.
Not yet.
Belial walked beside him.
Looking around suspiciously.
"TOO MANY PEOPLE."
"There are definitely a lot."
"HOW DO THEY ALL KEEP TRACK OF EACH OTHER?"
Haruto paused.
"...good question."
The goat narrowed its eyes.
"I DON'T TRUST IT."
That wasn't reassuring.
Eventually the streets became narrower.
The market noise faded.
The buildings changed.
Less decorative.
More practical.
People still moved through the area, but at a slower pace.
A neighborhood instead of a marketplace.
Lyra finally stopped.
Before them stood a three-story stone building.
A wooden sign hung above the entrance.
The paint had faded years ago.
Yet the words remained visible.
**The Hearth Rest.**
Haruto blinked.
"...an inn?"
Lyra looked at him.
"What were you expecting?"
"A castle."
Belial snorted.
"HE CAN'T EVEN AFFORD BREAD."
Fair.
Painfully fair.
The innkeeper looked up as they entered.
An older woman.
Gray hair.
Sharp eyes.
The type of person who could probably win a war using only disappointment.
She immediately noticed Lyra.
"You're late."
"I know."
"You said three days."
"I know."
"It's been six."
"I know."
The woman sighed.
Clearly this conversation had happened before.
Then her gaze shifted toward Haruto.
A pause.
Then Belial.
A longer pause.
"...Lyra."
"Yes?"
"Why is there a goat?"
Belial looked offended.
Again.
Haruto was beginning to notice a pattern.
The innkeeper continued.
"Why does the goat look smarter than some of my customers?"
Belial immediately liked her.
"I KNEW THERE WAS A REASON I CAME HERE."
The woman blinked.
Then pointed.
"It talks."
"It does."
"It shouldn't."
"It does that too."
The innkeeper rubbed her temples.
Then pointed toward a table.
"Sit."
Haruto sat.
Belial climbed onto a chair.
Nobody stopped him.
A dangerous precedent.
The innkeeper disappeared briefly.
Returning with food.
Actual food.
Not dried supplies.
Not desert rations.
Food.
Soup.
Bread.
Meat.
Steam rose from the bowls.
Haruto stared.
The smell alone nearly killed him.
Lyra noticed.
"...when was the last time you ate properly?"
Haruto thought.
Then stopped thinking.
Because he genuinely didn't know.
"That's concerning."
"I've heard that before."
Belial was already eating.
Somehow.
Nobody knew where the bowl came from.
Nobody wanted to ask.
Haruto took his first bite.
Then froze.
The room disappeared.
The city disappeared.
The conversation disappeared.
For several glorious seconds—
only soup existed.
Belial glanced over.
"...he's gone."
Lyra nodded.
"Completely."
The innkeeper looked amused.
"Traveler?"
No response.
"Traveler."
Still nothing.
The woman snapped her fingers.
Haruto blinked.
"What?"
"You looked like you were having a religious experience."
"...maybe."
The room erupted with laughter.
Even Haruto smiled.
For the first time in what felt like forever—
he wasn't surviving.
He wasn't searching.
He wasn't chasing a mystery.
He was simply eating dinner.
And somehow—
that felt stranger than crossing worlds.