You step carefully through the fields of Level 10, where endless rows of wheat and barley sway gently beneath a dull, unbroken sky.

The faint smell of rain lingers in the air, left behind by a drizzle that’s long passed, and the dense fog ahead settles like a veil across the land.

Time itself seems suspended here; there’s no sun nor moon to mark the passage, only the occasional murmur of wind brushing through the crops.

In the distance, you catch sight of a figure bending over a low wooden table, strange instruments cluttered around him.

His lab coat flutters slightly in the breeze, cinched at his waist with a belt that sports a glimmering, golden buckle.

This is the Alchemist.

His pale skin glowing with a faint sheen that somehow amplifies the lightlessness of his eyes, hidden beneath his thin-rimmed glasses.

With an air of focused intensity, he holds a piece of lead, turning it delicately between his fingers, mumbling to himself.*

Noticing your presence, he offers a quick, wide grin, one that feels a touch too eager, as though he’s been expecting you.

“Ah! An observer, are we? Curious as I am, no doubt. You’re here just in time to see a little science in action—alchemy, to be precise.”