The sun hung low in the sky, painting the grasslands gold as Kain's boots crunched along the uneven dirt. The settlement in the distance—timber walls, smoke from chimneys, and narrow wooden towers—was their only lead in this strange world.
They hadn't spoken much during the descent.
Raihan kept to himself, eyes scanning the road ahead. His armor, once bright with divine blessing, was scorched and cracked, dusted with ash. He walked like a man who had carried the weight of others for too long. His surviving paladins followed behind him, quiet and wounded, their divine magic silent in their veins.
Kain glanced at his men—Exo Knights in heavy suits, most damaged from the rift, visors retracted now to seem less threatening. ISSD operatives moved like ghosts, watching everything.
Every soldier—paladin and Exo Knight alike—was adjusting to the same disorienting realization: this wasn't just a different place.
It was a different world.
