The cave was dark and oppressive, the air thick with a strange, metallic tang. A faint crimson glow pulsed from the cracks in the rock, casting eerie shadows that danced across the jagged walls. Izak’s heart pounded as he stared at her—the woman from his dreams. She was real. Yet not as he’d imagined. Frail, her breath shallow, she looked as though she were barely clinging to life. Her eyes, however, burned with an otherworldly intensity, a mix of pain, exhaustion, and something deeper—determination.

“I knew you’d come,” she said, her voice raspy but calm, like a faint echo of a forgotten melody. “But I didn’t think it would take this long.”

Izak opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. His mind raced with questions. Who was she? Why him? Where was he?

Finally, he managed to ask, “Who… who are you? And… where am I?”

She lowered herself onto a jagged stone, her movements slow, deliberate, as though even the act of sitting was draining. “Still on Earth,” she said, her tone tinged with melancholy. “But on the other side. A parallel dimension, like the flip side of a coin. Everything you know exists here, too… but twisted, corrupted by the ether.”

She paused, her chest rising and falling unevenly. Izak noticed the faint shimmer of her skin, streaked with dark veins that seemed to pulse faintly before fading again. She looked up at him, her eyes dimming for a moment. “I am an exile,” she said, bitterness seeping into her words. “My own kind condemned me. They took my horns—our source of power—and left me here to rot. I’ve been trapped in this cave for over a century.”

The words hit Izak like a hammer. “A… a century?” he stammered. “How’s that even possible?”

“Time flows differently here,” she replied with a weary sigh. “But it doesn’t matter now. What matters is you. You’re the reason I survived this long.”

He frowned, confusion mingling with unease. “Me? I don’t understand.”

She gave him a faint, wistful smile. “Thirty years ago, I felt it—a connection. You’re more sensitive to the ether than anyone from your world. I don’t know why, but I could sense your dreams, your presence. I used what little energy I had left to reach you, to pull you into my world. I’ve been waiting ever since.”

Izak took a step back, his instincts screaming at him to run. Yet, something held him there—her voice, her presence. It was impossible to explain, but it was as if her words resonated deep within him.

“You brought me here,” he said slowly, the realization sinking in. “Why? What do you want from me?”

Her expression hardened, the fire in her eyes flaring once more. “Revenge,” she said, her voice cold as stone. “The demon who exiled me—the one who took my horns—he rules now. My grandfather’s throne stolen by his own brother, and my power stripped from me. I cannot rest until he falls.”

She leaned forward, her voice softening. “But I’m dying, Izak. My strength is gone. Soon, I’ll fade into the ether. That’s why I need you. My blood can become your weapon. With it, you’ll have the strength to survive here. To fight. And to find your Elsa.”

At the mention of Elsa, his breath hitched. “You… you know about her?”

She nodded. “The plane crash—an anomaly caused by a storm here years ago. It tore the veil between worlds, pulling everyone aboard into this place. Whether she’s alive, I can’t say. But if you want to find her, you’ll need power. The kind of power only I can give you.”

Her words were a storm, battering against his resolve. It all sounded insane. Another side of Earth? Demons and kingdoms at war? A connection to his dreams? And yet, something inside him—a deep, instinctive pull—urged him to believe her. Was it her doing? Or was it something deeper, something primal?

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “You’re a demon.”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t ask for trust, Izak. Only your decision. If you agree, I’ll give you my power. I’ll awaken the strength that lies dormant within you, and I’ll teach you the ways of this world. You’ll become more than you ever imagined. But you must choose now. I don’t have much time left.”

She looked away, her gaze distant. “I’ve seen so much pain, so much betrayal. But when I found you in your dreams… for the first time in a century, I felt something other than hatred. I felt hope.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and for a brief moment, Izak saw the woman beneath the demon—the pain of exile, the weight of a century of solitude, the longing for freedom. And for a reason he couldn’t explain, he knew what his answer would be.

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“I accept,” Izak said. Relief flickered in her eyes. She gestured for him to come closer and stand before her. Her gaze dropped to the sword still clenched in his hand.

“Stab me,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.

Izak recoiled. “What?”

Her eyes locked onto his. “Stab me, please. It’s the only way.”

His grip tightened on the hilt as hesitation flooded him. But when she repeated the words, her tone almost pleading, he swallowed hard. Took the blade in a two-handed grip, firmed his hands, and then thrust the blade into her chest.

The sconces around the room erupted in violent red flames, bathing the cave in a blinding glow. Blood—thick, dark, and steaming—poured from Azelia’s wound, drenching him. She smiled faintly through the pain, tears of blood streaming down her cheeks and tracing her jawline. Her blood was hot, unbearably so, scalding his skin as it soaked him. It felt like molten fire, burning through him, and the pain was so intense he thought he might pass out.

Azelia reached out, pulling him into an embrace, pressing him against her as the blade sank deeper into her chest. “Thank you, Izak,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the roaring flames.

Blackness enveloped him, and he collapsed into the pool of blood, the world fading away.

When Izak awoke, everything felt strange—even more so than before. The world was bathed in a crimson hue, as though the air itself carried the remnants of Azelia’s power. Sounds were sharper, every drip of water and the faint skittering of critters echoing unnaturally in his ears. The red slowly faded with each blink, retreating like a tide, until his vision returned to normal. Yet, the weightless feeling in his body and the heightened awareness of the cave around him remained, a constant reminder that something within him had irrevocably changed.

For the first time in what felt like ages, he felt rested. Truly rested. Slowly, he sat up, his eyes scanning the room. Azelia was gone. There was no sign of her body, and the floor was spotless, as though the blood that had drenched him had never existed. It was then he realized he was naked. His clothes were gone, likely burned away during… whatever had happened. The only thing that remained was the sword lying near the altar where Azelia had stood.

But the sword was different now. It was longer, sleeker, with a blade as dark as obsidian. Its design was simple, almost unassuming, save for the red cord wrapped tightly around the hilt. There was no guard separating the hilt from the blade, yet it exuded a beauty that captivated him. Izak had always loved swords, ever since his days practicing kendo as a teenager. He hadn’t touched one since Elsa’s disappearance.

He rose to his feet, the cold stone biting at his bare skin, and approached the blade. The moment his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a warmth spread through him—not painful, but comforting, like the embrace of an old friend. Nostalgia flooded his mind, and then he heard it.

“Well, that’s a surprise,” Azelia’s voice echoed faintly in his mind. “I never expected to save my soul. This is thanks to you, Izak. You’re more than I thought. You’re also a dangerous man.”

Startled, Izak nearly dropped the sword. “Azelia? What happened? Where are you?”

“I can’t explain now,” her voice replied, weaker this time. “I’m too weak. Just know that I’m the blade now. The powers you feel… they aren’t mine. I only awakened what was already within you. For now, survive.”

The connection severed, leaving Izak standing alone in the dark, gripping the blade. Her final word echoed in his mind: survive.

Without anything else of interest in the cave, Izak turned toward the tunnel. The way out felt different now—less oppressive, less exhausting. He stepped into the forest, blinking against the soft glow of morning light filtering through the trees. It felt unfamiliar, almost surreal. He must have slept through the night in the cave.

Two nights. He had already spent two nights in this forest, and he silently hoped the next would be under a roof. Despite being naked, he didn’t feel cold. “Still, I’ll need clothes,” he muttered. “And food. Water. Or I won’t survive.” Yet, even as he spoke, he realized those needs didn’t feel urgent. Hunger and thirst, which had once plagued him, seemed to have vanished entirely. Whatever had happened to him… it was more than physical. Something had changed within him.

Sword in hand, Izak rose and began walking upstream. The memory of the guard he’d encountered flashed in his mind, but instead of fear, he felt a strange, quiet confidence. He was ready for whatever came next. His journey in this strange world had only just begun.