He stirred from his slumber to discover Syl perched at their table, surrounded by a lavish spread of fish, meat, and water.

“How long have I been out?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep. A weightiness lingered within him, the kind only a profound sleep could induce.

“An entire night and day; the suns are setting again,” she responded, her tone infused with a soft, underlying smile.

“Just for that short trip?”

“Short? You were delirious for the entire day.”

“Delirious? I can only remember fragments. We were sitting here and…” His words faltered, a deep blush suffusing his cheeks.

“We stayed here, half the day, until I persuaded you to ascend to the deck.”

“No!”

Her lips curled into a mischievous grin.

“Yes. After you transformed on deck, you started laughing uncontrollably; Zach had to intervene to bring you back to your senses. We finally started flying, you nearly led us off course across the boundless sea. Remember I said, 'how big can it be?' It seemed infinite, while teetering on the edge of becoming lost.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!”

“There’s no need! It unfolded in the most ideal way. Your response was unparalleled.”

She attempted to conceal her smile, but it was evident that she was in a cheerful mood. Standing up from the bed, he observed her, intrigued by her reaction. Taking a seat across from her, he reached for a glass of water, drinking it down in one go.

“Unparalleled?”

“You spoke solely of love and ángeles. Ordinarily, such experiences provoke more hostility and anger.”

A reflective pause overtook her, her gaze turning inward.

“What is an ángeles?” she eventually inquired.

“It’s a messenger for the highest God. They are good and wise and in most stories, beautiful.”

Her smile widened.

“So, you claimed that our actions during the trip don’t reflect our true selves,” Immanuel observed, his gaze narrowing thoughtfully.

She poured him another glass as she spoke.

“I offered that as a comfort. It holds some truth. Everyone carries hidden anger and fears. Maybe a violent event, or a particular color or shape, awakens a memory. These thoughts can engulf your mind. Yet, you transformed into something akin to a devoted follower of the Gods.”

“I think I did see a God.”

He tried to grasp the fleeting memory or sensation, yet it remained elusive, akin to remembering being in a lot of pain. You know it was terrible but thinking about it does not recreate the pain, luckily so.

“Is this akin to what religious people feel at times? I'd embrace God if it meant feeling that sans substances. Do the substances even matter?” he mused.

“Maybe some people are born with the ability to see the divine perspective?” He asked aloud.

Syl regarded him with a tender smile.

“This warrants deeper contemplation, or perhaps none at all,” Immanuel surmised for the time being.

“Care to soar?” she proposed.

“Absolutely.”

Venturing outside, Immanuel realized he was only wearing his underwear.

Closing his eyes, he felt the essence of the Voyager.

Upon reaching the deck, he beheld the ocean under the setting suns and momentarily grasped the profound truth again. The sea transcended a mere collection of molecules; it wasn't a lifeless entity. It existed as a sentient, divine force. For an instant, he perceived the world through this enlightened lens. He felt small before this majestic entity that pulsed with the rhythm of the waves. And then, the epiphany faded. The ocean reverted to water, its movements not self-initiated but influenced by external forces—gravity, wind, their ship.

“Are you well?” Syl inquired, her warm smile unwavering.

“Yes, just... thinking about yesterday,” he replied.

Activating his transformation, he felt the energy course through him, welcoming his alternate form like a familiar companion. His physique altered, his features reshaped, his feet and hands transformed. His undergarments tore as his hips contorted.

Gazing downward, he observed his claws. The transformation was familiar in concept, yet now he fully embodied it. He executed a light jump, testing his muscles. His body felt agile. Unfurling his wings, he observed the world, his neck flexing in unfamiliar ways. Flapping his wings, he sensed the lift. The world's hues appeared enriched, revealing shades and colors previously unknown to him. He treaded cautiously across the deck, his claws producing a distinct tap. Even the sounds had transformed; the sail's flapping was louder, more resonant. He inhaled, discerning the scents of water, wood, and steel beneath his claws.

He explored the texture of his tongue, coarse against the interior of his beak. Shaking his head to dispel the odd sensation, he felt the feathers of his mane ripple in response.

He placed a claw on the railing, bracing for takeoff. But as he pushed, his claws skidded on the steel. Instead of leaping gracefully, he stumbled backward, striking his beak against the railing.

Syl's laughter echoed melodically.

Turning to her, he playfully ignited his core to its fullest intensity. Power surged through his being, casting his feathers in radiant golden hues. His mane expanded around him. In a swift, mock-threatening dash, he fixed his gaze on her, peering down the length of his beak.

“Hmmm, how regal,” she remarked, lightly caressing his beak with her hand. She leaned in, planting a gentle kiss upon his beak.

“You are formidable,” Syl murmured, locking eyes with him.

“Exercise caution. They will hunt you down for whatever you are,” he felt her fingers delicately stroke his mane. “Now, take flight.”

Observing her, he noted subtle changes in her appearance. Her skin bore a slightly altered hue, her eyes were green with an indefinable tint. He nudged her gently, pressing his head against her shoulder.

“Go, soar,” she encouraged again with a smile.

He ascended to the upper deck, feeling the wind embrace him. Instead of jumping, he executed a flash, a demanding feat that drained over half of his core. Materializing mid-air, he flapped his wings, riding the warm updrafts to ascend. Spiraling upward, he let out a powerful screech, the sound resonating through his throat and head, his entire mane vibrating in unison.

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Soaring higher, he witnessed the suns blush crimson in the distance. In a burst of joy, he screeched again. Retracting his limbs, he streamlined his form, banking left and right, navigating varying air currents.

The ship diminished to a mere dot below. He then plunged like a meteor, accelerating rapidly. His eyes remained unwatered, shielded by some unknown protection. Descending swiftly, he swooped behind the ship, spreading his wings to counter the force, the G-force straining his neck. Igniting his core, he zoomed past the vessel. Engaging his focus ability, time seemed to slow. He caught sight of Syl and Zach.

Immanuel saw Syl pressing a fist against her lips, yet it did little to conceal the broad smile spreading across her face.

Once more, he ascended to greater heights before plummeting down. This time, as he neared the deck, he extended his wings and angled his body downward, braking sharply. He executed a flawless landing on the deck with minor adjustments.

Transforming back, he felt his beak reshape into a mouth and his paws revert to hands and feet. The world's colors shifted to their usual palette.

In a playful gesture, he scooped Syl up by her waist, lifting her effortlessly. She beamed down at him as he descended the hatch, heading towards their room.

Overwhelmed with joy, he yearned for her company. Entering the room, he gently set her down before the bed.

“Syl,” he started, searching for the right words.

“Syl, I…”

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, resting her head against his.

“Do you want this?” he whispered back.

“I want this,” she said in a whisper.

With a tender motion, he removed her robes, revealing her figure. He pressed his bare form against hers, sealing their connection with a kiss before gently guiding her onto the bed. She retreated playfully while biting his lip.

He began to kiss her neck, slowly descending.

“We’ll take it very slow,” he murmured softly. “We’ll take it very, very slow.”

------------

Lying together, Immanuel felt Syl’s naked body intertwined with his. Her legs wrapped around his hips. As he made a gentle attempt to rise, she murmured in half-slumber, “Don't go.”

He smiled, reclining again, enveloped by the profound sense of completeness. The thought of departing from this world in such a state seemed peaceful, everything in perfect harmony. He had no obligations, no quests; everything was as it should be. He lay there, grinning contentedly.

----

Syl, still in the embrace of sleep, had her arms around his neck, her face nestled against his chest. After their passionate lovemaking, she lay there, a tranquil figure against him. He was reluctant to succumb to sleep, not wanting the night to end. Gently disentangling himself from her embrace, he gazed at her in the dim light. She looked utterly beautiful, curled peacefully on their bed.

He strode onto the deck, his steps measured and deliberate, making his way to the ship's bow. The sails billowed above, a symphony of wind and canvas. There, at the ship's forefront, he lit his pipe, the glow briefly illuminating his thoughtful visage.

A wave of guilt washed over him. In the whirlwind of surviving, adapting to this new world, forging alliances, and eluding death, he had scarcely spared a thought for his former life. "What would they think, seeing me here?" he wondered, gazing at the stars. "Are they still out there? Are we even in the same cosmos?" A resolute conviction filled him. "I'll find a way back," he affirmed, drawing deeply on his pipe, watching the smoke scatter in the wind. "I'll do whatever it takes to endure here, but I will return one day."

Syl approached silently, pressing close against him. He smiled at her presence. “Syl,” he acknowledged.

“More,” she whispered into his ear, her words tinged with newfound discovery.

Despite his thoughts, Immanuel couldn't help but smile. “Syl, there’s something important I need to discuss with you and Zach,” he said, his tone shifting to seriousness. Sensing the gravity, Syl moved to stand beside him.

They made their way to the bridge where Zach was dozing in the captain’s chair.

“We’re bound to crash into something someday,” Immanuel remarked, exhaling a sigh.

“Zach!” he called. The young boy stirred, stretching languidly before fixing his gaze on Immanuel and Syl.

“I have something crucial to share with both of you,” Immanuel stated, settling down behind the glass so they could see the starlit sky.

“I’m not sure how to begin…”

He looked at them for a moment.

“I’m struggling to find the right words…” Immanuel trailed off, his voice laced with a mix of uncertainty and resolve.

Immanuel paused once more, his eyes lingering on them, gathering his thoughts.

"I'm not originally from this world. I grew up on a different planet. A world with only one sun, devoid of magic, and without monsters," he revealed.

Zach, still shaking off sleep, looked puzzled, his brown curls bouncing as he shook his head.

"A different planet?" Syl echoed, her eyes drifting towards the starlit sky.

"What do you think all those lights in the night sky are?" Immanuel prodded gently.

"Suns like ours," Zach responded, now more alert.

"Good. It would be a longer explanation if you believed they were holes in the firmament," Immanuel quipped, a brief smile flickering across his face.

Their curiosity piqued, they turned their attention back to him.

"Those lights are indeed suns. Many of them are orbited by planets. There are more suns in the universe than there are drops of water in the sea or grains of sand on all the beaches of this world. I come from one such planet."

Standing, a wave of frustration and anger over his circumstances washed over him.

"I had a life there. A wife and a child." He glanced at Syl, who met his gaze with a look of understanding and compassion.

"One day, as I was preparing dinner, suddenly, I found myself in a stone chamber, face to face with a strange being. There was immense pain and confusion. This being transferred memories to me, imparted languages, and I now believe, passed on his core to me, possibly as his final act."

He paced along the window, his friends waiting patiently for the rest of his story.

"I eventually found my way out of his house, for lack of a better word, discovered armor, a sword, and this dimensional space." He showed them the small red tattoo on his wrist.

"And then, I stepped out into the great plains. Alone, terrified, utterly bewildered..." His voice trailed off, a distant look in his eyes as he relived the memories.

"And I believe this planet might be a kind of training ground. A more advanced civilization could have constructed these dungeons and brought humans here. Since humans originated from my planet, someone must have transported them here, just as I was brought."

Syl, deep in thought, said, "Perhaps the Gods aren't confined to this planet. They could create life, but if that were the case, there should be humans on every planet around every star." She frowned slightly.

Zach grabbed a red bottle from under his chair – the one he had taken from the rats. He took a swig, his face contorting at the taste, then passed it to Immanuel.

Taking a sip, Immanuel found the liquor strong yet pleasantly herbal, reminiscent of liquorice. He settled next to Syl and affectionately kissed her forehead. Zach snuggled up beside them as Syl absentmindedly took a swig, her gaze still fixed on the stars.

Immanuel continued, "There's a theory from my world, backed by a lot of evidence...”

"...In nature, evolution is a constant. It's not just about mixing blood with cores like in the sect; nature itself is always experimenting. We've traced the evolution of humans back to pir earlier ancestors, who walked on all fours. Humans weren't created in their current form; nature is perpetually experimenting, with successful experiments thriving while others die."

Immanuel took another swig, handing the bottle to Zach. They lay there in contemplation.

“Humans must come from our world because we found all the earlier experiments, so why are there humans here and who brought them?” He finally added.

"Neasha is always creating life..." Syl said hesitantly.

"...I'd like to see some of those earlier forms of life," she mused.

Zach, softly speaking, asked, "Who took you from your world?"

Immanuel replied, "The Chimera. His name was Acleafor, the Progenitor." He showed them the letter, which Zach admitted he couldn't read.

"He must have been incredibly powerful to transfer his core to you," Syl noted thoughtfully.

"I wasn't a cultivator in my world; I was just a normal person," Immanuel clarified, feeling the effects of the drink already. He took another deep swig, enjoying Syl's gentle touch.

"There must have been something unique in your blood, a potential for cultivation, which is why he chose you," Zach said with certainty.

Immanuel chuckled at their discussion, "This is not really how I thought this talk would go.”

Syl, pausing her strokes, took a thoughtful sip from the bottle. "Why should life be exclusive to our planet with so many others out there? I'd love to explore them." .

Zach, with a hint of excitement in his voice, added, "There would be new enemies to vanquish and dungeons to conquer."

"If you truly wish to return to your planet, I'll help you," Syl said softly in his ear.

"We will," Zach echoed, placing Syl’s hand on his side, asking for pets. She complied, smiling.

“What is the name of your wife and child?” Syl asked.

“My wife’s name was Amy and my child Florence.”

They were all silent, processing everything that was said, drinking from the bottle.

"Syl, how old are you, really?" Immanuel suddenly asked. She never reacted the way he thought she would react.

"I've celebrated numerous rain cycles in the sect, but I've never counted them."

"More or less than a hundred?" he prodded.

She laughed, a sound clear and genuine. "I don’t count them," she repeated, taking another drink and gently stroking his arm.

Zach, lying comfortably on the couch with his head in Syl’s lap, remarked, "With so many worlds and paths to power, there must be countless immortals out there."

"Not all planets have magic," Immanuel interjected.

Zach stretched out, his tone confident, "Magic is everywhere."

"We'll find our way to the stars," Syl declared, pulling Immanuel closer.

"Let's just make sure we don't crash into the next island we come across," Immanuel joked.

Zach, pondering the vastness of the universe, sat upright. "More stars than grains of sand on a beach? That is what you claim? It's not true. You can't possibly count them."

He jumped up and pretended to grab a handful of sand from the floor. “Imagine having to count only one fistful of sand. Even that is nearly impossible. And how many fistfulls are there on the beach we left? And how many on the coastline we sailed passed when we started our journey?

"It's more of an estimation. You count a small section and extrapolate. So you count one fistfull then measure how many fistfulls there are in a small part of the beach and go from there. Always multiplying."

Syl added, "We use a similar technique for estimating Vlas populations in the subtunnels."

Zach, still incredulous, walked over to grab another bottle of liquor. "Could you fly to the stars?" he asked after a moment.

"We'd need a spaceship for that," Immanuel clarified.

"They had flying ships in the city," Zach mused.

"That they did," Immanuel agreed.

“Se we just have to find another big city and steal one.” Zach said, opening the next bottle.