[Location: ???]
It wasn't every day you saw some delicate-looking kid casually rip the arm off a grown man in full armor.
She had seen some strange things before—things people wouldn't believe even if you swore on your life. Still, this one was new.
"...Passed out already?" Mikoto muttered, glancing down at the unconscious man slumped over in a small pool of his own blood. The severed arm lay a few feet away, fingers twitching slightly, either from nerves or something else.
Mikoto pressed the tip of his sabaton lightly against the man's face and gave a small nudge, just enough to confirm what he already knew. No response. The guy had either blacked out from the shock or the pain.
He picked at his ear with his pinky, completely unimpressed. "That's no fun," he sighed, casting a glance at the girl still standing with her rapier out, box clutched tight against her chest.
"You want to end up like him?"
Her shoulders tensed for a second, but to her credit, she didn't flinch. Instead, she slowly lowered her blade, giving it a lazy twirl before sliding it back into its sheath.
"I'll pass," she said with a small, sheepish smile. "Thanks, though."
Her tone was light, but she didn't take her eyes off him.
"You don't look the part," she added after a moment. "No offense, but with that armor, I figured you were with the Queen's Guard. But after seeing that…" She glanced at the unconscious man. "That kind of strength? You've got to be a Nil."
"...A what now?"
Mikoto blinked. The word meant nothing to him. Another reminder that this wasn't his world—maybe not even his universe.
She noticed the confusion and gave a small shrug. "Right, guess you're not from around here. That would explain it."
There was a pause. A breeze picked up, brushing strands of white hair across Mikoto's pale face. He didn't seem in any hurry.
"But hey," she said, carefully shifting the box under one arm. "We're not enemies, right?"
"That depends," Mikoto replied evenly. "Don't do anything stupid, and I won't kill you."
His tone was calm—too calm. Like he wasn't trying to threaten her, just stating a rule.
Oddly enough, She smiled again. It wasn't mocking. More like amused. Maybe even relieved.
"Well, that's fair enough," she said. "Gretel. That's my name, in case you're wondering. You can think of me as a traveler. Or a courier. Depends on the day."
"Mikoto," he said, eyes flicking back up toward the cloudy sky. It looked like it might rain soon.
Gretel tilted her head a little. "Mikoto, huh… Not a name I've heard before. Doesn't sound local."
She watched him for a moment longer, studying his posture, the way he held himself. He didn't look lost, but there was something distant in the way he stared off into the sky. Like he was somewhere else entirely.
"You out here alone?" she asked.
Mikoto didn't answer right away.
"Sort of."
"That's a 'yes but don't ask more' kind of answer," she said with a smirk. "Fair enough."
She adjusted her grip on the box and took a slow step closer, careful not to spook him.
"If you're not from here, and you don't have a place to go… there's a village up in the mountains. It's quiet. I go there sometimes when I need to lay low or rest. You can come along, if you want."
Mikoto didn't respond at first. He seemed to be thinking. Not just about her offer, but something else.
("She didn't react to the arm thing at all,") he thought. ("No fear. Just interest. That's not normal. She reminds me of the Ancestors… mana, but something else too.")
Still, he needed to get his bearings. Relying on Arcane Ascendance to brute force his way through another realm wasn't a great plan. If there was an easier path, he'd rather find it. And if this really was a different universe…
"Alright," he said eventually. "But I want some information first."
Gretel raised a brow. "Shoot."
"What's this world called? And where exactly are we?"
She blinked at the wording.
"…World?" she repeated. "That's a bit of a big question."
He didn't say anything. Just waited.
"Well, technically, the old scholars and starwatchers call this realm Álfheimr. Bit of an odd name, but it stuck. People seem to like it." She shifted her weight slightly. "Right now, we're in the Heart Kingdom. Or, more accurately, the outskirts of it. We're so far out, we're basically right on the edge of Quadling Country."
"…Quadling," Mikoto muttered, expression unreadable.
"Yeah. Funny name, I know." She smiled again, a little more casual this time. "But you get used to it."
He let out a soft sigh and gave a small nod. "Alright. Lead the way."
She turned toward the dirt trail without a word, and he followed behind, steps light and quiet despite the weight of his armor. They didn't say much as they walked. But every few seconds, Gretel would glance over her shoulder, still curious.
He didn't seem real.
--------------------
[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: Heart Kingdom Outskirts]
It didn't take long before the narrow thread of mountain trail revealed itself between fractured rocks and scattered weeds. The path wound upward, running through the cliffs, thin and uneven—barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Gravel shifted beneath their feet with each step. Below, the slope dropped steeply, scattered with stone and shadowed by the clouds above.
Mikoto moved in silence, his sabatons clicking softly against the rock. Ahead, Gretel took the lead with an ease that surprised him. She wasn't timid about walking in front of someone she'd just met—someone who had, moments ago, torn a man's arm off like it was made of wet paper. That alone told him something. Either she was confident enough in her own strength to risk it, or she was a fool. Mikoto leaned toward the former. She carried that rapier like it wasn't for decoration.
He didn't mind the silence, though. If anything, he welcomed it.
("At least she isn't trying to make small talk.") Mikoto exhaled quietly through his nose, grateful.
But with that quiet came space for his thoughts to drift—something more annoying than conversation. The wind rushed past his ears, and yet it couldn't drown out the thoughts clawing at the edges of his mind. Inevitably, they circled back to Octavia—to the truths she had thrown at him.
An incarnation.
It should've been world-shattering.
He should've been frozen in existential crisis, unraveling who he was. But instead the words that haunted him were simpler.
("That bitch said the Angel I'm tied to was worse than her.") His brows drew together faintly. The memory of her voice lingered. ("She wasn't saying it like an insult. More like a fact.")
He gazed off the trail, watching how the land stretched into a cold, vast nothing. Mountains clawed into the sky. In the distance, far below the rising mist, a city shimmered—so far it looked more illusion than real. It pulsed with a strange emerald hue.
("The way she was wording it made it seem like she herself was a scumbag. So Lucifer maybe? If she's some twisted version of him, then what does that make me? The thing that's supposedly worse than her?") He touched a gauntleted finger to his chin, his armor creaking gently with the motion. ("Why the hell am I even entertaining this? She could've been lying through her teeth just to mess with me... make me doubt myself. She seems the type.")
A voice broke through his thoughts.
"You seem to be thinking pretty hard," Gretel said over her shoulder. Her tone wasn't prying, just curious.
Mikoto didn't answer right away. His red eyes flicked up to meet hers, finding her watching him with a faint tilt of the head, her long hair catching in the wind.
"…It's none of your business."
She didn't seem to take offense. Instead, she slowed her pace until they were walking side by side, matching his steps without missing a beat.
"You remind me of my brother," she said with a gentle smile. "He used to get that same look when something was eating at him. Wouldn't say a word about it, either. Thought keeping it all in made him strong."
There was a pause. Something flickered in her eyes but it passed as quickly as it came.
"I guess it helped him survive for a time. Maybe that's what matters."
Mikoto glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She wasn't being fake. That much he could tell.
"…Tch." He looked away. "You offering me a lecture?"
"Not at all," she said, shaking her head. "Just making conversation. Besides, I figured we're about the same age. Couldn't hurt to be friendly, right?"
He arched a brow. "You always offer friendship to guys who maim people?"
Gretel laughed softly, eyes bright. "Only the ones who seem like they've got reasons behind it."
"…Huh." He wasn't sure what kind of answer he was expecting, but that wasn't it.
"You're special," she added, matter-of-fact. "It's not just that strength, or that speed. You don't move like someone normal. And…"
She hesitated, then said it bluntly.
"You look too perfect. It's weird. Pretty, almost unnatural."
Mikoto stopped walking. He blinked once, expression twisting into annoyance.
"…You done?"
She held up her hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying what most of everyone else will be thinking."
"Keep talking like that and I'll throw you off the mountain."
She laughed again. "Fair enough."
They fell into a more comfortable silence. The air thinned as they climbed higher, sharp in the lungs.
"Ah—look," Gretel pointed ahead suddenly. "We're almost there."
The path widened slightly, flattening into a small plateau marked by old wooden posts and a stone marker inscribed in a language Mikoto didn't recognize.
And ahead it lingered.