They didn’t remember falling asleep.

One second they were walking through the desolate ruins of Borderland, broken glass crunching under their feet, the next— —a flash of white light, a deafening roar in their ears, and a feeling like the ground itself had been ripped out from under them.

When they opened their eyes, everything was different.

Arisu was the first to break the stunned silence. "Uh… guys? Did we die? Is this heaven? It’s kinda spooky for heaven, not gonna lie—"

"Shut it," Karube snapped, looking around warily. His fists were already clenched, ready for whatever fresh nightmare waited.

"Great," Niragi muttered under his breath, dusting off his jacket. "Just what I needed. Samurai cosplay hell."

Tatta looked around, "Maybe it’s... another game?"

"Feels different," Kuina said, sharp-eyed. "Feels real."

Heiya was already halfway up a small ridge, scouting ahead with fast, silent steps. "Guys. We’re not alone," she called back.

And then they heard it. Footsteps.

But not the desperate shuffle of Borderland survivors. No, these were deliberate. Rhythmic. And somehow, despite their weight, eerily silent.. From the mist, a figure emerged - their sword gleamed at their side, and the very air around them seemed charged, alive.

It was a Hashira.

The group stiffened instinctively. Fight or flight kicking in. Chishiya, of course, was the first to react. He only smiled faintly, hands in his pockets, like this entire situation mildly amused him. "Tch. Not very welcoming, are we?"