A Precious Advice

Liam's breath was still shaky as he forced himself to his feet, the sensation of suffocation lingering even in this new place. The void was gone, replaced by an open field stretching endlessly under a clear blue sky. The wind carried a familiar scent—earthy, warm, comforting. It felt real.

Too real.

Then, he heard the voice.

"Liam."

His body locked up. He turned slowly, almost afraid to believe it. And there he was.

His grandfather stood with his hands behind his back, wearing the same sturdy, confident posture Liam had seen a thousand times before. His hair was a little messier than Liam remembered, his ember-colored eyes steady and sharp. But they weren't just looking at him.

They were seeing him.

Liam's throat tightened. He felt like a child again, like that boy who used to follow this man's every step. But that boy was gone.