The night pressed heavily on Neo-Pacifica, the artificial glow of the city casting long shadows across the empty streets. Layla wandered with no direction, the endless pathways winding like a maze through a city she didn’t yet understand. The vibrant energy from earlier, the clubs with their mechanical beats, had faded, leaving behind a city that felt vast and indifferent.

She had no money, no place to stay, and hunger gnawed at her. The realization weighed on her more with each step—this world was not like Harmonia. Here, everything had a cost, and survival wasn’t a simple matter of weaving what she needed from the threads of magic. She touched the ground as she walked, reaching out instinctively for the familiar hum of magic, but it was distant, faint, and far too weak to sustain her.

Her gaze swept over the glowing windows of apartments and cafes. Every place seemed closed off to her, part of a world where she didn’t belong. The pang of isolation cut deeper than her hunger. I should have prepared for this, she thought. I should have known Earth would be different. But the excitement of her journey had carried her this far, only to leave her standing alone, unsure of where to turn next.

Her steps took her into a park, a small patch of green nestled between towering buildings. She paused near a bench, staring at the soft grass lit by a flickering streetlamp. The temptation to simply lie down and let the night pass was strong, but something held her back. This world had rules, even if she didn’t understand them yet. She couldn’t afford to make mistakes.

The ache of hunger, once dull, grew sharper. It twisted in her stomach, a sensation she wasn’t used to. In Harmonia, food had been a creation, a manifestation of will and magic. But here, the magic was not strong enough to bend reality to her needs. She tried, once more, to call on the threads—reaching into the earth beneath her feet, but only a faint shimmer responded. She was weaker here, her abilities strained by the limitations of this world.

The city felt vast and indifferent, and for the first time, fear began to creep into her heart. She had been so sure of her purpose when she left Harmonia. Now, the weight of the unknown bore down on her. What if I’ve made a mistake? What if I can’t awaken the magic here?

She sat down on the bench, her head resting in her hands, trying to suppress the wave of doubt that threatened to overwhelm her. The mission seemed too large, too impossible. The city was too disconnected, too cold. How could she hope to reawaken Earth’s magic when she couldn’t even find a place to rest for the night?

Her thoughts spiraled, the loneliness of the night deepening her doubts. For a moment, it felt as though she had lost sight of everything. Harmonia seemed so far away now, and with it, the vibrant life and magic she had always known. Am I too far from home?

But then, a small flicker of hope surfaced. Beneath the fear, beneath the doubt, there was a spark of excitement—the unknown. She had left Harmonia for this exact reason, to explore, to discover what others had forgotten. This was why she was here—to bring back the magic that had been lost. The uncertainty was terrifying, yes, but it also held potential. This world is different, she reminded herself. But it’s not beyond reach. There’s still something here.

Before she could follow that thought further, a voice interrupted her reverie. “Are you lost?”

Layla looked up, startled. A woman stood a few feet away, holding a basket in one hand. She was older, with lines of exhaustion etched into her face, but her eyes were kind. There was no judgment in her expression, only concern.

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“I…” Layla hesitated. She didn’t know how to explain. “I don’t have a place to stay. And I don’t have money.”

The woman nodded as if she had heard this before. Without a word, she reached into her basket and pulled out a loaf of bread. It was still warm. “Here,” she said, offering it to Layla. “You must be hungry.”

Layla blinked, surprised by the simple gesture. For a moment, she considered refusing. Pride stirred within her, the desire to manage on her own. But the hunger in her stomach spoke louder. She accepted the bread with both hands, the warmth of it seeping into her fingers. “Thank you.”

She took a small bite, the taste of it filling her with relief. It wasn’t just the food—it was the kindness behind it. The woman sat down next to her, and together, they sat in silence. She didn’t ask any questions, didn’t pry into Layla’s strange circumstances. She simply stayed, as if understanding that sometimes all someone needed was quiet company.

The bread eased the ache in Layla’s stomach, but more than that, it eased the tight knot of fear in her chest. The night had felt endless, cold, and isolating, but this simple act of kindness had reminded her that not everything in this world was disconnected.

When the woman finally stood to leave, she gave Layla a small, knowing smile. “Take care of yourself,” she said softly. “This city can be a lonely place if you let it.”

And then, as quietly as she had appeared, the woman disappeared into the shadows of the park, leaving Layla alone again. But this time, the isolation didn’t feel as heavy. Layla remained on the bench, her thoughts quieter now, the bread’s warmth lingering within her.

She looked up at the night sky, the artificial lights of the city dimming the stars overhead. The fear hadn’t disappeared. She was still uncertain, still afraid of the challenges ahead, but there was a new resolve within her. This world had lost its magic, yes, but it hadn’t lost everything. There were still people here, still connections to be made. And maybe, in those connections, she could find the magic again.

As the hours passed, Layla leaned back, her body too exhausted to move, but her mind no longer racing. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to rest, even if only for a moment. Sleep came slowly, and with it, dreams. She dreamed of Harmonia—the soft glow of the skies, the vibrant hum of magic in the air. She could feel the threads in her hands again, weaving life and sound into existence. The magic there was alive, breathing in every moment.

But the dream shifted. She was back in Neo-Pacifica, standing on a street that stretched endlessly into the horizon. The threads of magic were there, but they were brittle, fragile, barely visible. Layla reached for them, her hands desperate to weave them back into the world, but they slipped through her fingers like mist. The city felt heavy, its progress and technology crushing the magic beneath its weight.

She woke with a start. The sky had begun to lighten, the first hints of dawn creeping in. The night had passed, but the weight of her dream lingered. It’s slipping away. The magic was slipping away, and she couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t afford to fail.

As the city slowly woke, Layla stood, her body sore from the long night but her mind clear. She had survived, and though the fear still lurked in the corners of her heart, so did the excitement of the unknown. The challenges ahead would be difficult, but she wasn’t done yet.

Before leaving the park, her thoughts returned to the woman who had given her bread. That small act of kindness had carried her through the night, reminding her of something important: magic wasn’t just about power or creation. It was also about the connections that bound people together—the moments of kindness that made the world feel alive.

The sun was rising now, casting a soft light over Neo-Pacifica’s skyline. Layla took a deep breath, feeling the cool morning air fill her lungs. The fear hadn’t disappeared, but it was quieter now. The unknown still stretched before her, vast and full of danger, but it was also full of possibility.

She would find the magic again. And when she did, she would show this world what it had forgotten.

End of Side Chapter