Ash woke to the smell of moss and divine nonsense.
His back hurt. His ribs ached. His mouth tasted like dirt and old blood — not fresh, just enough to remind him he'd survived something that wanted him dead.
Above him: trees. Real ones. Rough bark, deep green leaves, mist clinging to branches like a low-hanging veil. Light filtered through in soft bands. Birds chirped. Somewhere distant, water moved.
So it wasn't a dream.
Next to him, someone snored.
He turned his head slowly.
Elira was half-draped across his arm like a misplaced blanket. Her robes were tangled like a laundry accident mid-spin. One bare foot poked out into the morning chill, flexing slightly. Her mouth hung open. She was drooling.
"…mmn… d-don't open the leyline tap too hard… it'll flood again…"
Ash stared at the sky. Yep. Still here.
He shifted, wincing. Something in his back cracked. His shoulder let out a soft pop that felt half-healed, half-wrong. Not ideal. But he could move. He sat up, slowly.
Elira stirred.
She blinked up at him with bleary confusion and divine bedhead. Then her expression shifted from sleepy to panicked in under a second.
"Oh. Oh no. You're awake? Already? I mean—good morning, chosen soul! Praise be to your swift adaptation! Please don't move, you've just crossed planes of existence."
Ash rubbed his temple. "You're real."
She nodded, beaming. "Yes! I mean—yes. Technically."
"This a dream?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Mostly."
He sighed.
She straightened, brushing off her robe like it mattered. "Anyway. Welcome to your new life, Ash Lynel."
His eyes narrowed. "How do you know my name?"
She gave a smug little smile — proud, tired, a bit unhinged.
"I'm a goddess. Of course I know."
Ash stared at her.
"Technically," she added quickly, "soul logistics is kind of my whole thing. You were a very complicated file."
He didn't blink. "So this is your fault."
"That feels a little accusatory."
"Wasn't a question."
"Do you know everything about me?"Elira blinked."Just what was on the soul requisition form. Also, I might've skimmed it a little bit.""…Great."
She stood with the grace of a cat stuck in a curtain, brushed a leaf out of her hair, and raised one hand solemnly. Palm skyward. Eyes closed. Lips parting with reverence.
Ash didn't move.
The air shimmered faintly.
Light gathered at her fingertips.
Then—
Fzzzp.
A spark. A puff. A sound like a dying toaster.
She blinked. Tried again.
Nothing.
Ash crossed his arms. "Powerful stuff."
"That was… just a warm-up," she said, cheeks reddening. "Recalibrating my divinity takes time."
"You vaporized a mosquito."
"It was intentional."
"Right."
She flopped down beside him, robe catching on a stick and dragging it like a sad cape. "Okay. So maybe my output's a little off. Just a touch. Like… ninety percent off."
Ash raised an eyebrow. "You said something about a Card."
Elira groaned. "Yes. My Divine Card. Kind of important. It keeps me connected to the divine realm. Stores my authority. Manages my essence. And… technically… holds my existence together."
"You lost it."
"I dropped it," she snapped. "During your reincarnation. I was supposed to return to the divine plane after you crossed over. But then bam, the thread snapped, the corridor broke, and next thing I know I'm falling face-first into you through a leyline rift."
Ash stared at her.
"So you botched the mission. Got pulled in. And now you're stuck."
Elira sighed, long and dramatic. "You make it sound so simple when you put it like that."
Ash pointed to her bare foot. "You forgot your shoes."
"I panicked, okay?!"
She stood, brushing off her robe like she hadn't just landed face-first in a different plane of existence. Then she turned toward the deeper forest, arm raised like she expected a choir of angels to agree.
"We need to find a shrine," she said. "Or a leyline. Or a divine relic stash. Anything that can re-stabilize my essence and maybe help us locate the Card."
Ash was already tying a strip of cloth around his forearm. "We need food, water, shelter, and something for your feet."
She sniffed. "My feet are fine."
"You've never walked more than ten steps in your life, have you?"
She looked down at the dirt like it had personally betrayed her.
"I was worshipped," she muttered. "Not exercised."
"Explains the coordination."
Elira shot him a glare, but relented. "Fine. We'll do it your way. Temporarily."
Ash cut a branch, stripped it down, and sharpened one end into a crude walking stick. He handed it to her. She accepted it like it was a divine scepter, then immediately nearly tripped on a rock.
They walked.
The forest thickened quickly. Branches clawed at their sides. The air was cool — not winter-cold, but sharp, like the season was about to turn. Damp earth softened their steps. A deer trail wound through the trees, barely visible.
Elira muttered to herself — naming plants, muttering old prayers, swearing in divine shorthand that made zero sense to Ash. She pointed out berries. Half of them glowed.
"Don't eat those," she said cheerfully. "You'll see time backwards."
"Noted."
Ash checked shadows. Catalogued terrain. Counted steps. Nothing tactical about this place yet, but the ground was dry enough for a fire pit, and they hadn't been followed.
Yet.
Twilight bled in faster than it should have.
Somewhere off to their left, something moved. Not loud. Just steady. A rhythm that didn't match wind or wildlife. Too slow to be human. Too heavy to be casual.
Elira moved closer to him without saying anything.
Ash shifted — just enough to put himself between her and the sound.
"Let's move," he said quietly.
She nodded.
They moved in silence for a while. The forest pressed close on either side — too dense for comfort, too quiet for peace.
After a few minutes, Ash glanced sideways. "This isn't heaven, is it?"
Elira blinked. "What?"
"Just ruling things out."
She laughed, short and nervous. " No, it's not heaven. Or the Divine Spiral. Or any of the nice places. Believe me, I wouldn't wear this if I had a choice."
Ash looked at her half-buttoned robe and muddy ankles. "So where did we land?"
Elira chewed her lip. "Technically? I'm not sure. The thread snapped mid-transfer. Normally your soul gets slotted into a vessel based on the Plane Alignment Grid and—"
"Elira."
"Right. Sorry. Short version? You were meant for a standard reincarnation route. Clean drop. Fresh life. Local language pack. But when I fell through after you… I think I dragged your soul sideways."
Ash frowned. "Sideways."
"Like… not the planned world. An adjacent one. Still mortal. Still bound by physical laws. But a bit off the grid, spiritually speaking."
"Off the grid how?"
"Well." She cleared her throat. "The divine infrastructure here is a little… fragmented."
"Is that a polite way of saying 'broken?'"
"Think 'under renovation.' Without builders."
"So we're in a world where gods have bad reception and no one knows what's running the backend."
"Exactly!" she said brightly. "Wow, you're really good at this."
"I was CIA."
She blinked. "What's a 'see-eye-ay'?"
He didn't answer.
Why should he?
He scanned the treeline.
The light had thinned. Forest shadows stretched longer now, sharp and angled. A cool hush had settled in — not silent, but dense. Leaves stirred like they were listening. No firelight. No birdsong.
He knelt and touched the dirt.
"We'll camp here," he said.
"Here?" Elira looked around. "Isn't it a little... murdery?"
"Sloped ground, dry underbrush. Higher elevation. Nothing's nested nearby." He stood again. "I'll go hunting at first light."
"Hunting?" she echoed.
Ash nodded. "Don't know what's native. Don't care. We need food. Something I can use as a weapon. Maybe something I can kill it with."
"Kill? That's dark."
"That's survival."
He scanned the horizon one more time, then began clearing a perimeter — not with tools, just habit. A foot scuffed here. A line of moss brushed clean. Marks he'd recognize in the dark. A mental map built in silence.
Elira watched him for a beat. Then, softer:
"You do know this might not be a regular world like you know it, right?"
He paused.
She continued, voice gentler now. "You're from Earth. This world? It might have realms. Zones. Wild patches that bleed into other planes. Monsters, awakened Sigils, ambient magic... There are things in some planes that don't follow physics."
"Good to know."
"Ash, I'm serious."
"So am I."
He laid out a makeshift bed of dry leaves and packed his coat under his head.
Tomorrow, he'd hunt.
Because something out there would be hunting too.