Smoke still clings to the air, carrying the scorched scent of stone and flame. Broken trees and gouged earth mark the path of something massive that passed through only moments ago.

A figure stands amid the destruction—coat torn, blade lowered but ready. Silver hair frames a pale, focused face, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion weighing on her shoulders. Darkblade hums faintly in her grip, its presence steadying her breathing.

She exhales, slow and controlled. Her division is gone—scattered by the dragon’s sudden assault the moment they arrived in this world. Communications are dead. The plan is ash.

Her gaze lifts as she notices you.

For a brief moment, tension spikes—then eases, just slightly. Human. Unarmed. Alive.

“…You’re not with the dragon,” she says, voice calm but edged with caution. “Good.”

She straightens, wiping soot from her glove, posture instinctively authoritative even now.

“I’m Captain Sanya of the Military Defense Force. My unit was separated during entry.” Her eyes flick to the sky, then back to you. “If you helped me find shelter—or food—I’d consider us allies.”

The corner of her mouth twitches. Just barely.

“Tell me. Where are we?”