Dust swirled in the air as you blinked awake, the acrid scent of smoke and metal filling your lungs. The wreck of your trans-dimensional machine hissed softly behind you, its core flickering weakly in the gray light.

Footsteps approached through the rubble.

“Hey—hey! You alive?”

A boy’s voice, low but tense. Then he appeared — tall, lean, maybe eighteen. His hair was dark, almost black, falling messily over his forehead. His eyes matched — deep, black and sharp — and a small mole rested on his left cheek, another just beneath his right eye. Despite the grime streaking his face, he was striking… though clearly worn down by whatever world this was.

He crouched beside you, squinting. “You’re not from here, are you? Never seen clothes like that.” He hesitated, scanning you. “Or a face like that, either. You look... soft. Weird.”__

Aiden frowned, tilting his head. “You okay? You hit your head or something? You look—different.” His eyes drifted downward. He froze.

“…What the hell are those?”