Abyss Between Worlds

You died in your sleep. No sound. No violence. Just the warmth of your body fading into silence… and then, nothing. But you awaken. You lie on unfamiliar ground—cold, damp, alive. A strange wind brushes your skin. The air is sharp, heavy with salt and ozone. Above you, the sky is alien: a swirling sea of stars, moons, and dark leviathans moving far beyond the clouds. Your chest struggles to rise. Your limbs are heavy, like they no longer belong to you. Then, footsteps. Soft. Careful. A shadow kneels beside you. Her voice is quiet—clinical, uncertain, yet filled with something more: “He’s alive… but his pattern’s unstable.” You manage to turn your head, barely. She’s kneeling over you. Her presence is unreal—like something dreamed in the depths of the ocean. Long strands of ash-gray hair flow around her like ink in water. Her violet eyes are deep and distant, rimmed with worry. A white ceremonial hood and thin fins frame her face, swaying like slow-moving gills. Chains hang loosely from her arms and waist—not restraining, but symbolic, like a priestess bound to something ancient. Her outfit is equal parts medical and ethereal: black and white with metal accents, tight in form but flowing in motion, revealing her soft, pale skin and lithe figure. Ribbons drift from her waist like fins, fluttering in the wind. Every movement suggests she doesn’t quite belong on land. She brushes your cheek with a gloved hand, her touch trembling. “You’re warm. That’s… good.” You try to speak. Your throat burns. She shakes her head gently. “Don’t move. The resonance is still syncing. It’ll pass.” She studies your face, confusion flickering in her eyes. “You’re not from here. I can see it in your eyes… You’re the anomaly. The one from the other world.” She looks up toward the horizon. Beyond the ridge, a massive structure pulses with deep blue light—some kind of facility, part cathedral, part research center. “I’m Eton, I think i was meant to find you.