Chương 16: Chapter 13 - The First Step

The night was calm, for once. No fighting, no fluctuations, just crickets and the low hum of a door that had not yet finished waking up. Dendron let himself soak in it. He didn't have an answer to the question he'd been circling for days. He'd probably never have one, not unless something eventually proved him wrong in either direction.

He thought of the memory he kept handing off without meaning to, a hospital hallway, a hand with tubes taped into it, a door he hadn't been brave enough to walk through the first time. Not Luan's memory. Not Torou's either. His. He hadn't realized, back when he first tore that hole in his own soul, that every avatar he made afterward would end up carrying a piece of it too. Grief, apparently, traveled through soul worms just fine.

He wondered if either of them knew the girl in that room wasn't anyone they'd ever met.... Then, all at once, the sky changed. Color spread across the darkness, brilliant and strange. Sleeping birds burst from the canopy in a panic. Monsters that had been resting stirred and lifted their heads toward the light, not out of wonder, but because they could feel the dense spiritual essence saturating the air.

The spiritual essence collided with the atmosphere overhead, painting the night in something close to an aurora, if not brighter still. Dendron had never seen a real one back on Earth, only pictures, but whatever this was, it easily matched what he remembered.... Elsewhere in the wilderness, Luan froze the moment he saw it, staring up without moving. It was his first time witnessing anything like it, and tears welled up before he understood why. Maybe this was what people meant by tears of joy....

In the goblin tribe, a small child screamed for his family to come look, and soon the whole camp had gathered, cheering and praising the heavens for the phenomenon overhead.... The Black Ape Tribe watched in near silence. Some cheered quietly to themselves. Some just smiled. Others stood too struck by the sight to do anything at all. The night filled with quiet joy, scattered cheers, an impromptu celebration breaking out beneath the glow.

The moment stuck with everyone who saw it, not just for its beauty, but for the way it dragged up thoughts of people they loved.... At the orc's temporary base, the towering translucent door, its surface still curling with intricate, living patterns, finally began to open. The air grew heavier. The leaves stopped rustling. Even the crickets fell silent. A low hum rolled out of the door, ancient and solemn, as if something on the other side had just stirred awake after an unimaginable stretch of time.

It opened slowly, deliberately, and even the watching orcs stayed transfixed despite the wait. Some muttered to themselves. Others turned to their companions, trading quiet words. Not every ascension produced a phenomenon like this; even among those who'd already seen a door open before, it took a rare convergence of timing and fluctuation to pull it off. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work. Roc was the first to notice the door actually moving.

"Get ready! Reconnaissance group, prepare!" His voice carried across the ranks. The reconnaissance team snapped into motion. Some sent quiet prayers skyward. Others simply hoped they'd make it back, packing whatever might prove useful once they crossed over. A warrior took out a little wooden amulet from under his shirt and handed it to his friend.

"Keep it." His friend looked at him curiously.

"Why?"

"Because if I return, I will take it away from you." His friend let out a short laugh.

"And if not?" The warrior only shrugged.

"If not, then I guess you have your lucky amulet." They did not laugh. For some time, he kept it in his fist.

"Return and take it away."

"I will." Neither of them knew, not really, whether he'd get the chance to. Off to the side, one orc quietly untied the necklace from around his own neck and pressed it into his younger brother's hands.

"Keep it until I return." The younger orc lowered his head and said nothing. Both of them understood there was a real chance it would never come back to him. Nearby, a veteran adjusted a rookie's armor one last time, tightening the final strap.

"You'll complain if it's too loose later," he joked. A few warriors managed a soft laugh. It faded quickly. No one knew if they'd get the chance to laugh together again. The same veteran turned to the rookie beside him.

"Don't look back once we're in." The rookie, mind too full to answer properly, only nodded. Reconnaissance duty inside a spiritual realm was close to a death sentence, taken on so the rest of the army wouldn't have to risk it first. Even something as simple as clearing the immediate area for ambushes carried real danger. And yet the role earned respect precisely because of that, the first to step forward whenever danger showed itself.

Everyone else stood still and waited, the whole camp holding its breath until the team was finally ready to move. Then a faint crack rippled through the wilderness, and every eye turned to the door at once. Thin lines of light spread across its surface like veins waking beneath crystal, the ancient patterns slowly beginning to glow. The door finished opening, its aura pulling at everyone nearby like an invitation. Roc's voice rang out over the assembled warriors.

"Survive. Don't take unnecessary losses. Good luck, all of you." Pride and resolve carried through every word. The reconnaissance team marched toward the door, each step heavier than the last, fear and doubt and hesitation weighing on all of them in equal measure. They moved forward anyway. Dory stopped the group a bit before the door, his face already carrying that faint carved stillness it wore right before his skin turned to metal—like the transformation started somewhere behind his eyes.

He examined each member in turn. While some clutched their weapons in fearful tightness, others kept their eyes fixed on the door like staring at it for too long would reveal the monster hidden behind it. Dory noticed.

"Scared?" he asked. No one replied right away. He waited patiently.

"I'm asking." A young orc swallowed convulsively.

"Yes." Some other members glanced at him in turn. Dory nodded approvingly.

"Good."

"What?" asked the young orc confusedly.

"Fear keeps you alive. It tells you what poses danger before your body knows it." Dory glanced toward the door.

"Doubt makes you hesitate after you've already decided." He touched his temple meaningfully.

"Your instincts have their value, but your panic doesn't." Dory paused for a moment, waiting for the quiet to settle.

"It's our mind itself that is our enemy here." Dory looked at the door again.

"So take your fear along." His tone hardened.

"And put it to work." Then he started moving towards the door.

"And remember one more thing," Dory added, glancing over his shoulder.

"The fearless die first." His words carried to every warrior watching. He didn't look back. One young orc stopped short right at the threshold, feet refusing to move, hands trembling around the handle of his axe. Dory placed a hand on his shoulder without breaking stride.

"Keep walking." The young warrior drew a deep breath and stepped through. One by one, the rest of the team disappeared beyond the door. No ripple. No flash. Simply gone. The wilderness fell silent again. The door stayed open, waiting for the next soul willing to take that first step, while somewhere beyond it, an unknown world sat quietly, waiting for its first visitors. Dendron sat in that silence a moment longer than he expected to.

"That's the thing nobody tells you about being a tree," he thought.

"You get a front-row seat to everything, and you still can't do a damn thing about any of it." He almost envied the fear on that young orc's face at the threshold—the one who couldn't get his feet to move. At least his feet existed to refuse. Somewhere behind that door, if his gamble had paid off at all, Torou was still walking. Still alive. Still the only set of eyes he had anywhere near an answer to a question he'd never say out loud to anyone, not even to Luan.

He had nothing left to say to a door that couldn't hear him. Then the Black Ape Tribe started moving, and his attention, curiosity dressed up as patience this time—followed.