Another fight, another death.

The crescent-headed humanoid exhaled, the sound low and laden with something that hovered between boredom and weariness. His sharp, yet disinterested gaze swept across the familiar expanse of the crystal room. He recognized every shimmering surface, every fractured reflection it offered—he’d seen it countless times before. Too many times, if he was honest. Gloved hands buried in the deep pockets of his pants, he stood there, rooted, contemplating how deeply he craved a reprieve. Not a brief interlude, but something substantial. Something to strip away the monotony that seemed to coil tighter around him with each passing cycle.

Then he remembered. The beach. It lay at the foot of the mountain on which The Afterlife rested, quiet and unspoiled, just beyond his reach—until now. A break. Yes, it would be perfect.

He didn’t waste another moment lingering in the suffocating glow of the crystal room. His boots tapped against the polished tiles as he descended the endless staircase, his pace neither hurried nor slow but deliberate. The cool air shifted the closer he got, the faint scent of saltwater and damp earth curling around him. The faint hum of waves greeted him before the full expanse of the beach finally stretched out before his tired gaze. Peaceful. Serene. Exactly what he needed.

But then, his footsteps faltered. Someone else was there.

It wasn’t a glance he could brush off. The figure stood out starkly against the muted palette of the shore, a presence that demanded attention despite their stillness. Wayne’s brow furrowed slightly as he took in the sight, unease prickling faintly beneath his skin. How had he not noticed this before? He knew this place, felt its rhythms, its silence. Yet, here was an anomaly that somehow slipped under his awareness.

His first instinct was simple: leave. Whoever—or whatever—they were, it wasn’t his problem. He had no intention of intruding, nor did he particularly care to find out why they were here. He could find another stretch of beach.