It had been two weeks—two whole weeks—since Nathan had found anything remotely interesting to do.
Things had mostly calmed down, or were being handled by Max and UNIT. He hadn't joined Ben's trio on that Forever Knights mission, which ended up being just a bunch of tin-can cosplayers kidnapping a cartographer who happened to look like a dragon.
According to Raphael, his boring days were entirely his own fault, as he hadn't been doing much of anything. But even she approved—after all, the Orion incident had put a lot of eyes on him. If not for Raphael's interference, he would've been plastered all over the news.
He had, however, gone on a date with Gwen.
It wasn't anything dramatic—just a quiet outing while Ben was off with Julie and Kevin was elbow-deep in his car. They went to see Transformers: Dark of the Moon in theaters. Obviously Nathan's idea, but Gwen didn't protest.
In his last life—he called it that now—he'd lived up to 2025, but never got the chance to watch a Transformers movie on the big screen. So, he scratched that off the bucket list.
As for the Shop? It had been spitting out either unaffordable artifacts, cursed trinkets, or pure junk. Five new items each day, and none of them worth the trouble. Yup, five—because Aleha was still showing up daily, each time slightly different but somehow still the same.
He had kept up with Jessica too, chatting every other day. She was doing better now—still a little paranoid about Hydra tracking her down, but recovering from the two weeks she'd spent isolated in that facility.
But today… today the Shop had something good.
{The Shop
Everything can be bought here, as long as you can pay for it—and are lucky enough to see it on display.
Display resets in: 23:59:12
Dew of Nightsun Bloom:
A single drop of dew collected from a flower that only appears when the sun rises at night. A concentrated essence of starlight and nightshade. Drinking this can trigger enlightenment; mixing it into any liquid boosts that liquid's effect by 2 to 100 times.
It can purify an entire lake, heal a wound, or remove possession.
Note: Effects are limited to Solar System-level influence.
Price: Rations for 52 able-bodied men, enough to last 150 days.
~~~
Status Screen:
A holographic, isolated system that provides High-Omniversal information about yourself and Low-Multiversal insight about others.
Price: Spend one day at Bahlzi Resort and write an honest review. (Your stay is fully covered.)
~~~
Essence of the Outsider:
Contact will slowly turn you into an Outsider—a being of Paradoxes and Contributions. You may no longer be you, but you'll become something greater.
Note: Final line may be considered marketing, not prophecy.
Price: Your Origin.
~~~
Maker's Cube:
Contains codices of all living genetic codes and basic multiversal laws.
Price: Replace the Eternal Prisoner in their Void Prison.
~~~
Pumpkin Gun:
Fires pumpkin bombs. Non-lethal… mostly. Can do serious damage at close range.
Price: Make 100 people laugh by performing as a jester.
~~~
Aleha – The Last of the Darkest Void Phoenix:
Summon Aleha to your realm. She will turn you into a Phoenix of the Dark Void—a lesser race than the Darkest Void Phoenix, but still immensely powerful. Aleha will not hit you unless you ask. She'll also teach you how to be a good phoenix if you fulfill her demands.
Price: A letter of apology to Aleha for making her suffer.}
Nathan's eyes lit up as he focused on the Status Screen. That kind of system was always useful.
"If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles."
The quote had never felt more appropriate.
[Affirmative. It is a crucial item. It will also allow me to better utilize All of Creation. However, it is advised that you prepare yourself—the price may not be as simple as it seems.]
"I know, right? Why would someone give away something so valuable for just an honest review?"
Then his gaze shifted to the Dew of Nightsun Bloom. The utility alone made it an instant contender. Nathan was especially intrigued by its ability to enhance other liquids—like the vial of Hypno's Tears he'd been holding onto. He hadn't used it yet, waiting for someone to analyze or upgrade it. But now, he could do that himself.
Well… after buying a ridiculous amount of food. But that was the easiest part—he was a billionaire hotel tycoon, after all.
As for Aleha's offer to turn him into a Dark Void Phoenix… yeah, Nathan was tempted. Who wouldn't be?
But Raphael reminded him that higher-ranked bloodlines or races often came with inherent dominance—and sometimes even control—over lower ones. Accepting might mean giving someone else power over him. That was a hard pass.
So, reluctantly, he declined.
Over the next few hours, he made some calls and pulled a few strings—then secured a ridiculous amount of food. Enough to feed a small army. He traded it all for the Dew of Nightsun Bloom.
Afterward, he rang up Gwen and Jessica—the only two people who'd probably miss him if he suddenly disappeared. He let them know he might be going somewhere for a bit. Vague enough to avoid questions, but clear enough they'd worry less.
With that out of the way, he decided to get a good night's sleep before his little adventure.
The next day, he selected the Status Screen.
And just like that—he vanished.
The first thing Nathan noticed was the silence—not the empty kind, but the serene kind, like the world had collectively exhaled and chosen peace.
Then came the rest.
He stood at the edge of a valley so beautiful it felt like it had been carved out of a dream. Towering mountains encircled the land, their snow-capped peaks catching sunlight like polished crystal. Wisps of cloud drifted lazily between them, glowing golden in the late afternoon light. The valley itself was a rolling sea of green—lush grass so vibrant it almost shimmered.
Wildflower beds bloomed in spiraling patterns across the landscape, their colors impossibly rich: blues that rivaled sapphire, reds that pulsed like heartbeats, whites like fresh snow. Trees stood like ancient guardians, their leaves glinting with hints of silver and gold, casting dappled shadows across the soft earth.
A gentle breeze danced through it all, carrying with it the scent of blossoms, clean water, and something more… something sacred.
Nathan turned slowly, taking it in, eyes wide with awe. He didn't say anything at first. Couldn't. This place wasn't just beautiful—it was perfect.
Even Raphael, silent in his mind, seemed momentarily caught in stillness.
"…I feel like I just walked into the background of an RPG cutscene," Nathan murmured to himself. "But like… a really expensive one."
[Accurate. This location contains divine-level natural formation and likely high-order spatial anchoring. The ecosystem is deliberately shaped—by what or whom remains to be seen.]
As if on cue, a voice, soft as wind over water, spoke behind him.
"We've been expecting you."
Nathan turned—and promptly forgot how to breathe.
She stood barefoot in the grass, the soft rustle of flowers seeming to part in deference to her steps. She was tall, graceful, and breathtakingly beautiful in a way that felt almost surreal. Her skin was moonlight-pale, her long silver hair flowing like a cascade of starlight. Her eyes shimmered with hues of indigo and violet—like galaxies behind glass.
But it was her ears that marked her as… not quite human.
They were long and elegant, sweeping upward from the sides of her head, curving slightly toward the sky like delicate horned branches. Not threatening—no, not at all—but ethereal. Ancient. Other.
"You may call me Lysara," she said, smiling gently. "And you are welcome here, Nathan."
He blinked. "I… this place is—uh—wow. I mean, really. Wow."
Her smile deepened with amusement. "Most visitors say something similar. You may stay here as long as you wish. Take in the view, speak to the mountains… or, if you prefer, bathe in the Lake of Moonlight."
She extended a graceful hand toward a glimmering path of flowers winding toward the trees. "The lake will fill you with energy and clarity. It cleanses not only the body, but the mind, soul, and spirit. All curses, ailments, and evil eyes… washed away like dust."
Nathan glanced toward the path, then back to her, still half-dazed by the scenery—and now her presence.
"…That sounds… amazing, actually."
"Then take your time," Lysara said, eyes warm. "The lake awaits whenever you are ready."
Lysara began walking, and Nathan followed.
She moved with practiced grace—each step deliberate yet effortless, like someone who had walked this same path across centuries. Her presence reminded Nathan of a perfect concierge, one who didn't just serve, but anticipated. There was no arrogance in her bearing, just timeless poise—as if she had spent millennia perfecting the art of welcoming guests.
They passed under low arching trees, their leaves whispering above like wind-chimes made of silk. Birds chirped, distant and serene, adding quiet harmony to the natural melody around them.
"I hope the transition wasn't too disorienting," Lysara said gently. "Travel to this realm can feel… abrupt to some."
"No complaints," Nathan said, still looking around. "This place is unreal."
"That's a compliment we often receive," she replied with a soft smile.
The trees opened ahead, revealing the lake—and it took his breath away all over again.
The Lake of Moonlight lived up to its name. Its waters were utterly clear, like liquid crystal, and yet a soft, silvery glow rippled beneath its surface. The light wasn't warm like the sun, nor bitter like winter—it was cool in the way a summer night is cool, when the heat has finally died and peace takes its place.
It looked… cleansing. Not just clean—pure.
Lysara turned to him, hands gracefully folded. "Would you prefer privacy for your bath? Or shall I assist you in disrobing?"
Nathan blinked. "That's… direct."
"I have served many guests from many realms," she said calmly. "Some prefer solitude. Others require help. It is no trouble either way."
Her tone was so serene, so professional, that it almost threw him off more than the offer itself.
He hesitated only a moment before raising his hand. "Uh—I'll take privacy. But… thank you."
"As you wish," she said, stepping back and giving him a courteous nod. "There is a small alcove of woven branches just beyond that rock, should you wish to store your garments. I shall wait nearby."
Nathan undressed in silence, folded his clothes neatly, and stepped toward the lake. The air around it felt different—as if the boundary between the world and something deeper blurred here.
Then his feet touched the water.
He gasped quietly. It was cool—not cold—but that kind of cool that kissed the skin, chased heat from the bones, and told you to relax.
He waded in, slowly, until the water reached his chest.
Then he sat.
Time seemed to shift.
The lake's light wrapped around him, not blinding but steady, like moonlight resting on his skin. He felt the tension in his shoulders melt. His thoughts—loud, jumbled, always running—slowed to a calm drift. Every ache from his travels, every bruise, every burden he hadn't even realized he carried… vanished.
His limbs felt lighter, like they belonged to someone freshly reborn. His breathing slowed. His mind cleared.
"Holy hell," he muttered, eyes closed. "This place is dangerous. I could fall asleep here for a week…"
He didn't. But he soaked in that peace for nearly an hour, unmoving, unbothered, just being.
And when he finally rose, droplets of liquid light falling from his skin, he felt… new.
By the time Nathan had dressed and returned from the lakeside, Lysara was waiting once more, standing beneath a flowering archway woven from silver-leafed vines. She looked untouched by time, posture perfect, smile faint but ever-present.
"Feeling lighter?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Like I left a few years of stress in that lake," Nathan replied, rolling his shoulders with a satisfied sigh. "I'm half-convinced I could run a marathon right now."
"That sensation is common," she said. "You are cleansed, body and soul. Now, would you care for breakfast?"
His stomach answered before he did.
Lysara led him through a short pathway into a glass-walled pavilion overlooking the valley. A single table stood at the center, adorned with silk runners and translucent porcelain, yet somehow it didn't feel pretentious—just... perfect.
Before he could sit, Lysara asked, "Do you have any particular cravings this morning? Preferences in taste? Sweet, savory, something nostalgic, perhaps exotic?"
Nathan raised a brow. "Is 'surprise me' a valid answer?"
"It is," she replied, "though I do find it more engaging if my guests make at least some choices. Allow me to narrow it down."
She lifted one hand with a subtle wave, and two dishes shimmered into view, hovering as illusions between them.
"Would you prefer the Waywrn Egg Omelette, made from eggs laid once a century beneath moonstone trees and infused with a soft umami savor and hints of dream-herb? Or the Golden Apple Nectar, a liquid breakfast drawn from fruit said to grow in lands where time flows backwards—light, energizing, and gently euphoric?"
Nathan stared for a moment, considering.
"I'm definitely more of an omelette guy," he said. "Besides, time-flavored fruit sounds like it might make me younger or forget calculus."
"An excellent choice," she said, and with a gesture, the illusion faded. "Please, be seated."
He sat.
A moment later, the dish arrived—not carried, not conjured with flourish, simply there, as though it had always been waiting for him. The omelette glowed faintly with an iridescent sheen, folded perfectly, and garnished with a sprig of something lavender-blue. Beside it was a tall, crystalline glass of water so clear it seemed like a trick of the eye.
He took a bite.
Fluffy, rich, with a savory depth that felt like comfort food and fine dining had a child together. It was simple, yet... divine. He had no other word for it.
Lysara watched politely until he finished, then spoke.
"Now that your spirit is settled and your body nourished, might I recommend a few activities you may find suited to your temperament?"
"Activities?" Nathan asked, wiping his mouth. "You mean like… entertainment?"
"In a sense. This realm exists not only for rest, but reflection, discovery, and joy."
She extended her hand, and soft floating images appeared around her.
"There is the Wishing Fishing Well, where what you catch is sometimes more than a fish. The Lost Land Castle, a place of riddles, mirrors, and forgotten memories. The Train of Life, which runs a single loop but shows many lifetimes… And for the more indulgent guest, there is our Wine Tasting Spiral, offering vintages harvested from planets and realms long gone."
Nathan blinked slowly. "That is... a lot to take in."
Lysara offered a soft smile. "This is only a brief sample. You are, after all, an honored guest."
Nathan had never imagined joy could feel like this.
The days—or were they weeks?—bled together in a haze of golden sunlight and starlit skies, each one melting into the next like brushstrokes on a masterpiece painted by the cosmos itself. Time no longer felt linear. There were only moments, and each one was perfect.
He soared across sapphire skies on the back of a sky-dragon, its scales reflecting clouds like a living mirror. He danced beneath moonlit trees that whispered lullabies in languages older than sound. He fished at the Wishing Well, laughing when the catch turned into a song instead of a fish. He sipped sparkling wine that held the taste of nostalgia he couldn't quite place, watched flowers bloom and wither in seconds as though time bowed for beauty.
At the Lost Land Castle, he crossed bridges of mist and explored ancient halls filled with shifting murals. On the Train of Life, he stared out at a landscape of stars and meadows, letting the steady rhythm of wheels lull him into the deepest peace.
People came and went—strangers who smiled, laughed, even danced with him. Yet by the time he turned away, he could no longer remember their faces or names. Each interaction existed in a beautiful bubble, intact and isolated. The only presence that remained consistent was her—Lysara, his ever-patient, ever-warm guide. Her voice was a constant current, gentle and grounding, offering suggestions, asking his preferences, ensuring his comfort.
He was happy. So deeply, purely happy.
Only once, as he stood barefoot in a field of tall, glowing grass, watching the sun dip below twin mountain peaks, did something flicker at the edge of his mind. A voice. Calm. Wise. Familiar. A presence not of this place.
He blinked.
But the thought slipped away like mist between fingers, lost before it ever had a name.
He smiled again.
And let the breeze carry him into the next perfect moment.