Villain Ch 1899. The Bride's Liberation
Allen didn't know how long it lasted.
There wasn't a sense of falling or waking—just stopping.
Then—
Breath.
Cold air hit his face. Damp. Heavy. Forest-scented. The smell of moss and morning dew slid into his lungs like something half-forgotten but strangely grounding. Birdsong fluttered somewhere in the distance. Leaves rustled above, brushing against each other like quiet applause.
Dirt beneath him.
Real dirt.
He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against pale sunlight leaking through the treetops. The sky overhead was fractured by branches—green, alive, whispering. No smoke. No blood. No screaming walls or shattered glass.
He was lying on his back in the middle of the forest.
The same forest.
The one they had walked into hours—or maybe years—ago.
