The engine of Fenric’s "Beretta" roared, the sound reverberating off the cobblestones as they sped back toward the outskirts. The main street was still active, though the earlier frantic energy of the celebrations had begun to wane, replaced by the low, steady hum of a populace heading indoors. As Fenric navigated the winding roads, the biting cold of the air was cut by the warm, amber glow spilling from tavern windows.

  ?High above the towering silhouettes of the city, the moon hung in the sky. It was brighter than the one Kuro knew, and unmistakably larger. Shadowy craters marred its surface, dark continents that seemed to stare down with a serene, almost conspiratorial smile at the unlikely pair below.

  ?They eventually arrived at Fenric's home, a structure that stood in solitary defiance of the town's architecture. Unlike the familiar timber and brick buildings they had passed, this dwelling was a rugged fortress. It was constructed of massive, roughly hewn stones stacked with a primitive, brutalist precision. It felt less like a house and more like a bunker, the singular, laborious creation of its owner.

  ?"I apologize. This is all I can offer," Fenric said, killing the engine. "I’m a Half-Beast, and... as long as there’s a roof, I can work with it Kuro interjected, cutting off the apology with a dismissive wave. "I’ve slept in worse places than this."

  ?Fenric offered a warm, slightly strained smile and ushered him inside. The interior was sparse. "I have only one room, so I’ll take the sofa in the hall."

  ?"I don't mind the hall. I’ll take the sofa," Kuro assured him, eyeing the sturdy-looking furniture.

  ?"Right. Sorry, but..." Fenric hesitated, sniffing the air tentatively. "Before you roam all over my place, why don't you take a bath? You smell like... well, a long journey."

  ?"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Kuro grumbled, though he couldn't deny the layer of grime coating his skin.

  ?Fenric pointed out the way to the bath, located in the garden behind the house. Kuro gathered his things, but as he stepped out into the chill night air, paranoia—a soldier's oldest friend—seized him. He couldn't leave his gear unattended, not yet.

  ?While Fenric busied himself inside, Kuro slipped toward the edge of the woods bordering the garden. He found a dead tree with a hollowed trunk, obscured by shadows. Glancing back to ensure he wasn't being watched, he tucked his trusted rifle and the bayonet inside. He paused holding the black cylindrical box—the source of everything that had happened to him. He shoved it deep into the wood, guessing Fenric’s sharp nose might smell the gunpowder or the strange aura of the box, but it was a risk he had to take.

  ?He returned to the garden patio, keeping only his right glove secured. He placed his remaining earthly possessions and the Horn Sword on a small table beside the patio door, then handed his travel-stained clothes to Fenric, who was waiting to wash them.

  ?Kuro made his way to the wooden tub which sat steaming in the open air. He sank into the hot water, a groan escaping his lips as the heat penetrated his worn muscles. Above him, the silent, wheeling stars looked down, alien and beautiful.

  ?I can't believe how much I needed this, he thought, a deep, primal weariness finally catching up to him.

  ?Slowly, carefully, he peeled the glove from his right hand. He raised his palm to the starlight. There, in the center where he had crushed the strange black feather, sat a mark—a black, thorny spiral, like ink spilled and cursed into existence. He didn't know what it was, but his deepest instincts screamed at him to hide it. As he stared at the chilling brand, it seemed to twitch, inching slightly downward toward his wrist. A sudden shiver that had nothing to do with the cold racked his body. He quickly pulled the glove back on, hiding the curse away.

  ?He dried off and clothed himself in the items Fenric had provided—a loose shirt and joggers that were slightly too small, pulling tight across his shoulders. When he returned inside, he found Fenric standing by the table, examining the Horn Sword with a look of intense curiosity.

  ?Dinner was meager—a bland, dry bread. "That’s all I can offer for the night," Fenric apologized.

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  "No shit," Kuro scoffed. He tore off a chunk with his teeth, silencing the Half-Beast. "It’s food. Eat."?, though the offer of a drink brought a genuine smile to his face. He drank deeply, the alcohol hitting his empty stomach hard, and finally collapsed onto the hall sofa. Sleep didn't just come; it took him hostage.

  ?Dead silence.

  ?Kuro was standing in a dark place. He was naked. Aside from his own body, nothing was visible—only a crushing, velvet blackness. He tried to move his hand, but the perspective was wrong; he walked some distance, yet reached nowhere. He opened his mouth to shout, but the sound died in his throat.

  ?Then, a dark mist flowed across the floor like a sentient river, consuming his feet. He didn't panic; he couldn't. He looked up to the source. A clouded, towering figure moved silently through the void. A pair of dark red eyes peered through the mist, watching him in absolute silence. Kuro couldn't make out what he was looking at, but a primal terror, older than language, seized his heart.

  ?Then came the scream.

  ?It wasn't just a sound; it was a physical force, loud and terrifying enough to shatter minds.

  ?Kuro woke up gasping, sweat drenching his borrowed clothes. A cold dawn was creeping relentlessly through the single, thick-paned window, casting the room in the color of old pewter. He couldn't remember the details of the nightmare, but the feeling remained—the echo of that scream. The first time he had felt true fear was facing the bear in the forest, but he had believed he could kill the beast. This... this was different. He wasn't sure he could kill this.

  ?Fenric had already left. His heavy leather boots were gone from the doorway. Yet, the house, for all its solitude, felt perceptibly less tense without his reserved presence.

  ?Despite the nightmare, the night had passed uneventfully. For the first time since waking up abandoned in that desolate forest, Kuro felt genuinely rested.

  ?He found breakfast already laid out on the heavy stone table. It was simple, yet surprisingly hearty: a thick chunk of dark, coarse bread, a generous portion of salted meat—clearly goat or perhaps some bovine creature, leaner than the animals Kuro remembered—and a steaming cup of something bitter and strong. He didn't question the offering. He ate every bite, feeling a profound warmth spread from his core as the hot brew worked its bracing way through his blood.

  ?Outside, the small town was slowly, purposefully waking up. The sounds of daily life were muffled by the thick stone walls of Fenric’s fortress.

  ?As he ate, Kuro finally scanned the room properly. It was a strange mix of the primitive and the intellectual. A "caveman house," as he dubbed it, but one wall featured a desk cluttered with books by the window—the only window in the house.

  ?His eyes drifted to the wall facing the sofa. A large, dark, rectangular slab was mounted there. A television? Kuro squinted. No... a mirror? It was too black, too matte. Considering the cold climate, it was probably a heating machine, or perhaps some magical artifact.

  ?Once famished no longer, he went to check on his uniform. He found it neatly folded on the desk by the window. It was clean, dry, and pressed as if by a meticulous hand. Even the tear from the forest had been stitched with expert precision. Beside it sat his hat, worn and battered from the journey, but brushed clean.

  ?Kuro frowned, touching the fabric. "Did he cook my uniform or what?" he muttered. It seemed impossible to dry thick fabric so thoroughly in a cold house without a hearth. "It seems dogs are useful in every world."

  ?Ignoring the mystery, he donned the familiar fabric. The clothes were a necessary anchor to his disappearing identity. He resolved to stick with them for the rest of his journey. Placing the hat on his head, a strange sense of satisfaction flickered through him. After so long, the uniform felt good. The metallic smell of blood had vanished, replaced by the scent of clean soap. He secured his remaining possessions inside his coat: the lighter, the cigarettes, and the pocket watch that had ceased to tick the moment he arrived in this world.

  ?Knowing Fenric was still out, Kuro slipped out the back door and headed toward the edge of the woods. He needed to ensure the rifle and the box were safe.

  ?He found the hollow tree undisturbed. Both items were there, but as he pulled the rifle out, his heart sank. The wooden stock was filled with an alarming number of new cracks, spider webbing through the varnish. He let out a deep, worried sigh. The weapon was his lifeline, and this world was slowly rejecting it.

  ?He secured the items and headed back inside, only to find Fenric had returned.

  ?The Half-Beast was moving with quiet economy, busying himself with small, domestic tasks—sharpening a knife, perhaps, or stitching a loose seam in a piece of leather. He glanced up as Kuro entered, acknowledging his presence with a brief, amber-eyed nod. He had the unmistakable look of a man who had been awake hours before dawn.

  ?"Good morning," Fenric said, his voice rough, as if unused to speech this early. "Readying for an adventure, I see. Don't forget the Mosrel Sword." He gestured to the table. "I can't believe you use a precious horn as a sword."

  ?"Yes," Kuro replied, walking to the stone table. He picked up the drill-like weapon, feeling its weight. "But first, I’d like to know more about this world you speak of. High Beasts? The first city, Loz-edna? Whatever details you have."

  ?Kuro met Fenric's gaze, dropping his voice to a tone of feigned confusion. "It’s to make me remember my past, of course"

  ?A genuine smile, faint but distinct, crept onto Fenric’s face. He seemed to understand the game they were playing. Kuro didn't have amnesia, and Fenric likely knew it, but the lie was a comfortable bridge between them.

  ?"Of course," Fenric conceded, pulling out a chair. "Why don't you take a seat? Let's begin."