The new world breathed.
There was no other way to describe it. The earth shifted slowly, as a breath pulled out across minutes. The air above was unfrozen but colored in shades that responded to presence—when he moved, it changed.
Blurred violet shifted to soft blue. Darker gold shifted into bleeding crimson. And in the distance, a shape hung like a forgotten moon, pulsating with memory.
"This place…" Nyra spoke softly, respectfully but hesitantly. "It doesn't react to anything."
"It reacts to us," Kaito replied. "Or at least, it soon will."
They stood atop a ridgeline formed not of stone, but of woven strands of light and shadow—pieces of ancient system code stuck in the real-time.
The wind was thick with residual information, dancing on the edge of perception like an unfinished memory.