The moment Arios, Lucy, and Liza stepped into the mist, the world closed around them like a living cocoon. The air shifted from crisp mountain wind to thick vapor heavy with humidity and warmth. It clung to their skin, softened their breathing, and bent sound in strange ways. Footsteps no longer echoed. Voices dimmed to whispers even when spoken at normal volume.
The mist was not merely fog.
It felt intentional.
Alive.
Arios kept his hands linked with the girls, Lucy on his right, Liza on his left, refusing to let even the strange gradation of this environment separate them. Every shift in pressure, every subtle tremor beneath their boots, carried weight.
The crater's interior stretched before them, but visibility was limited to no more than a few meters. The ground sloped downward at a gentle angle, formed of smooth, dark stone. No plants grew here, no insects darted past. Even the distant cry of birds—constant in the ridge—had fallen silent.
Only one thing remained:
