For a few seconds, nothing happened. The silence stretched on, thick and unbroken, pressing against my ears like a suffocating blanket. The vast, endless void of black and purple remained still, the eerie glow of the massive moon casting long, unmoving shadows across the shallow water. I felt my heartbeat hammering in my chest, each thud echoing louder in my own head as I waited, my breath held in anxious anticipation.

  The dragon, still unmoving, remained silent for a moment longer. Its enormous form lay deathly still, like a statue carved from obsidian. Its dark scales gleaming under the moon’s silver radiance. The chains that bound its limbs were eerily quiet, as if even they had been swallowed by the strange hush that had overtaken the world.

  For a fleeting moment, I wondered if my ridiculous outburst had amounted to nothing, if I had simply screamed into the void with no answer, no reaction. Then, A ripple spread through the water.

  It started as a mere disturbance near the dragon’s claws, a tiny tremor in the still, glass-like surface that distorted the reflection of the sky above. But it didn’t stop there. The ripple expanded, slow at first, then faster, spreading outward in perfect circles as if something beneath the surface had suddenly awakened, sending unseen tremors through the strange, liquid-like ground.

  The dragon’s claws twitched. It was barely noticeable, a minuscule movement compared to the sheer size of the beast, but I saw it. The faintest flex of its talons, the smallest shift of its massive limb. The dark, jagged claws, tipped with a faint glow of purple, curled ever so slightly before relaxing again. It was a motion so subtle, so fleeting, that had I blinked, I might have missed it. But I hadn’t. I had seen it.

  And for the first time since I arrived in this strange place, The beast stirred.

  A deep, heavy exhale rumbled through the air, so low and vast that it sent vibrations through my very bones. The dragon’s enormous body, once so eerily lifeless, now shifted slightly, its muscles tensing beneath the dark sheen of its scales. The movement sent another ripple across the water, distorting the moon’s reflection even further. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. It was waking up.

  “I want to apologize!” I screamed, my voice tearing through the eerie silence like a desperate plea against the endless void.

  The moment the words left my lips, they seemed to hang in the air, heavy and uncertain, as if the world itself was considering them. My own voice echoed back at me, distorted by the strange, endless expanse of water and darkness. I felt my pulse pounding in my ears, my breathing shallow and ragged.

  The dragon’s glowing purple eyes flickered open.

  “Mashiro! Bery wake up!”

  A voice, high-pitched and frantic, pierced through the hazy fog of my mind. It rang out with urgency, filled with worry and desperation, as though the owner of that voice was on the verge of panic.

  Then, another voice, softer, more composed, yet still trembling with concern followed. “Miss Mashiro, please wake up!” It was gentle, but insistent, pleading.

  A third voice chimed in, this one far more relaxed, almost lazy, but with an underlying hint of amusement. “Calm down, you two. She’s just sleeping… probably?” The uncertainty in that last word sent a slight shiver through me.

  Slowly, my senses began to return.

  The first thing I noticed was the cold, an all-too-familiar chill wrapping around my body, clinging to my skin. It wasn’t the suffocating void of that strange dreamlike world, nor was it the overwhelming pressure of the dragon’s presence. Instead, it was crisp, fresh, and tinged with something… familiar. The biting touch of winter. Snow.

  Then came the sensation beneath my fingertips. The softness of grass, slightly damp yet firm, cushioning my hands as if nature itself had cradled me during my slumber.

  A soft glow pressed against my closed eyelids. It was warm, persistent. Sunlight. The golden rays spilled over my face, breaking through the darkness, gently coaxing me out of the abyss of unconsciousness.

  I took in a slow, deep breath. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and distant frost. It was so vivid, so real, so different from the eerie nothingness I had just experienced. With a great effort, I forced my heavy eyelids to flutter open.

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  I found myself lying on a patch of grass, the individual blades tickling my skin as a gentle breeze swept over me. The sky above stretched endlessly, a soft blue canvas dotted with wisps of white clouds drifting lazily. Sunlight filtered through the branches of nearby trees, casting dappled patterns of gold and shadow onto the ground around me.

  I slowly turned my head, my vision still slightly blurry from waking up so abruptly. As my eyes focused, I saw three familiar figures standing over me, Yuki, Yuzu, and Ai.

  Yuki had her arms crossed, her usual bored expression masking what I could tell was mild concern. Her snow eyes flickered with something unreadable, but she quickly looked away, feigning indifference. Her long white hair swayed slightly as the breeze passed, making her look even more like the lazy, unpredictable enigma that she always was.

  Yuzu, on the other hand, was much more expressive. Her bright, wide eyes were filled with relief as she practically bounced on her feet. “Mashiro bery wake up!” she cheered, her dark black hair swishing with every excited movement. Her small hands clutched the hem of my sleeve as if afraid I might disappear again.

  Ai, ever the calm one, knelt beside me with a gentle smile. “Miss Mashiro, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said softly. Her pure white hair shimmered in the sunlight, and her cool, snow-like aura felt soothing. Even though she looked composed, the way she held her hands together tightly gave away her unease.

  I tried to sit up, only to realize how heavy my body felt. My arms tremble slightly as I pushed myself up, and my head swam with the remnants of whatever had happened before. My voice came out hoarse, but I managed to ask the only question I could think of.

  “…What happened?” I blinked, my mind still sluggish as I tried to process what they were saying. The last thing I remembered was… the dragon. That overwhelming presence. The suffocating darkness. The strange voice speaking in cryptic words. And then, silence. A silence so deep it swallowed everything. Had I really just… fainted? That didn’t feel right.

  Yuzu, meanwhile, was still clinging to my sleeve like a lifeline, her puffed-up cheeks making her look like an angry hamster. “Mashiro bery suddenly faint! Yuzu bery worried!” she huffed, her ears twitching with frustration.

  “Sorry, sorry…” I mumbled, rubbing the back of my head. “I guess I, uh, overdosed on dramatic tension?”

  Yuzu did not look impressed. “Mashiro overdose on dummy juice.”

  Ai, who had been silently observing me like a scientist examining a weird bug, nodded sagely. “That… might actually be accurate.”

  I gaped at them. “Excuse me?!”

  Ai, unbothered, continued with her explanation. “The dragon flew toward us, but as soon as it reached us, it disappeared.” She paused, her brow furrowing slightly. “At the same time, you collapsed. It was almost as if—”

  She hesitated, choosing her words carefully.

  “—as if the dragon took one look at you and decided, ‘Nope, not dealing with this nonsense,’ and left.”

  I frowned. “…That can’t be right.”

  Yuki, who had been standing off to the side, let out a long, dramatic sigh, tossing her long white hair over her shoulder with the flair of someone about to deliver a Shakespearean monologue. “Yeah, and you didn’t wake up no matter what we did,” she said lazily, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. “I even tried slapping you.”

  I jolted upright so fast that I nearly gave myself whiplash. My head spun, but that was nothing compared to the sheer betrayal coursing through my veins. “You what?!” My voice cracked halfway through, but the sheer horror in my tone was undeniable.

  Yuki, completely unfazed, merely shrugged with an infuriatingly casual air, as if she hadn’t just confessed to committing first-degree assault on my unconscious body. “Didn’t work,” she said, as if that justified everything. Then, with a perfectly straight face, she added, “So I tried kicking you.”

  “YOU WHAT?!” I repeated, my voice climbing an octave higher, reaching levels of sheer disbelief I didn’t even know I was capable of.

  “Relax, relax. Just a little nudge.” Yuki smirked. “With my foot. In the ribs. Repeatedly.”

  I turned to Ai, my last beacon of sanity, my only hope in this cruel, Yuki-infested world. “Did she actually?!” My voice was filled with desperate, pleading disbelief.

  Ai, in all her deadpan wisdom, simply nodded. “She actually.”

  I gasped, clutching my ribs in pure reflex, as if I could somehow shield myself from past attacks through sheer willpower alone. My mind reeled at the thought of Yuki casually using my unconscious body as a training dummy. “You guys are the worst!” I finally declared, feeling the sheer injustice of my situation settle deep within my soul.

  Yuzu, who was still pouting and gripping my sleeve like an angry little gremlin, huffed again, her fluffy ears twitching. “Mashiro bery deserve,” she muttered under her breath, puffing out her cheeks.

  I groaned and flopped back onto the grass, staring at the sky in defeat. “I swear, the dragon was less scary than you three…”

  Yuki grinned. “Aww, thanks.”

  “That wasn’t a compliment!”

  Ai let out a long sigh, finally breaking her usual composed demeanor. “Miss Mashiro,” she said, rubbing her temple, “Yuki didn’t actually kick you.”

  Yuzu, who had been quietly observing the chaos, nodded sagely. “Mashiro bery gullible.”

  I grabbed a fistful of grass and dramatically threw it into the air. “I can’t believe this. I trusted you people!”

  Ai sighed again. “Honestly, I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to figure it out.”

  Yuki smirked. “And the answer was ‘too long.’”