Dimension Walker: The Veiled Paragon

The forest shimmered with ghostly light, each leaf glowing in hues of soft blue and faint emerald, casting slow-moving shadows along the mossy ground. Fireflies the size of pebbles floated lazily around them, occasionally pulsing with light like breathing stars.

Norian walked ahead, gesturing with his hands as he spoke animatedly.

"Okay, so picture this—there's this guy, right? Normal on the outside, socially awkward on the inside, probably hasn't seen sunlight in three years—but! He's a god when it comes to games and anime."

Garuda followed behind, listening with the intensity of a soldier receiving war orders. His tail wagged enthusiastically. Occasionally he clapped, or exclaimed, "What?!" as if Norian were revealing some ancient cosmic truth.

"So these people—'otakus'—they're like devoted cultivators but for fiction,"

Norian continued.

"They collect figures, posters, limited edition cards—things with no actual use, but with immense... spiritual weight. Sometimes they even pretend to be the characters, wear their clothes, speak like them. That's called cosplay."

Garuda let out a reverent breath.

"Your world sounds... terrifying."

"Only mildly,"

Norian grinned.

Then, the mood shifted.

A flicker of orange light—warm, sharp, and completely out of place—cut through the steady rhythm of bioluminescent hues around them.

Both of them halted.

Garuda's posture straightened immediately. He rolled his shoulders with pride, as if returning from a campaign.

"Looks like we're here,"

He said, his voice filled with anticipation.

Norian's eyes narrowed as he nodded.

"Let's go."

But they barely took a step before Norian threw an arm out to stop him.

"Wait. Stop."

Garuda turned, frowning.

"What? What is going on? Something wrong?"

Norian's voice dropped.

"Yeah. We don't know how they'll react when they see me."

Understanding dawned in Garuda's eyes, his expression turning thoughtful. He gave a short nod.

"Right."

Norian looked at him.

"Before we go in… tell me. What are they like? Personality-wise. Are they aggressive? Mild? Like your people, or... different?"

Garuda shrugged.

"They're warriors unlike us. This is a village—tough, yes, but not blood-hungry. They're used to dealing with danger, but they don't pick fights. And since I'm with you, there shouldn't be a problem."

He tapped his chest.

"I know the two heads of this tribe. There's history there. Good history."

Then he looked toward the flickering fire in the distance.

"Also, unlike us who operate at night, these ones are dayfolk. They sleep now, work during the sun."

Norian nodded slowly.

"Makes sense. You guys have the advantage—trees, elevation, seclusion. They have none of that. The only protection they've got are those makeshift wooden walls."

Garuda gave a light snort.

"Those walls are stronger than they look, you know."

Norian gave a faint smile.

"Maybe they were. But now… it's a piece of—"

He caught himself.

Garuda's eyes narrowed slightly.

"What do you mean?"

Norian waved a hand, trying to cover it.

"Nothing. Just… an idiom. You don't need to worry about it."

Garuda didn't push. He just grunted and kept walking.

They made their way deeper through the glowing foliage until the forest began to part.

A clearing opened ahead, torchlight spilling outward like spilled paint across the ground.

There it was.

The village.

Surrounded by a circular wall of sharp, interlocked logs bound with dark green vines. Crude wooden huts clustered within, some bearing marks of repair, others still smoldering with the ghost of old fire. 321 people lived here.

Bigger than Garuda's cave village.

Norian dropped into a crouch behind a thick bush, keeping low.

Garuda turned and frowned.

"What are you doing?"

Norian motioned him forward.

"You go first. I'll follow."

Garuda squinted.

"Why?"

Norian's voice dropped into a whisper.

"You go in and convince them not to kill me on sight. They look... dangerous."

Garuda let out a small cough, halfway between a laugh and an exhausted sigh.

"Fine,"

He muttered.

"Wait here."

He rolled his shoulders once more, took a breath, and walked toward the firelight—like a veteran returning home.

*****

✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢

✶ Dimension Walker ✶

✧ The Veiled Paragon ✧

⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰

✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢

*****

Garuda strode toward the firelight, tail swaying behind him like a banner of confidence.

More precisely, he approached the two guards standing rigidly by the gate—lizardmen draped in rough leather, their scales marked with black paint, torches mounted on long bone shafts flickering beside them.

Norian, still crouched in the bush, narrowed his eyes.

As Garuda stepped into their view, the guards reacted instantly. Spears lowered in unison, tips gleaming orange in the torchlight. One of them hissed sharply in warning.

Garuda paused, raised both arms slowly, palms open and tail flopping in what Norian guessed was the lizardman version of I come in peace.

The moment stretched. Then, one of the guards narrowed his eyes, stepped forward—and recognition flashed in his features. The spears relaxed.

Garuda took a few more steps and began... something. A sequence of movements that looked like a mix between a bird stretch, a tribal salute, and a ceremonial itch. Norian blinked.

'Was that... a greeting?'

Then they started talking.

From the bush, Norian couldn't hear the words, but he could read the body language. Calm at first. Familiar. Safe.

Then Garuda pointed toward him.

The moment he did, both guards turned to look in his direction.

Norian stiffened.

The guards didn't look pleased. They shook their heads—firmly, almost instinctively. One of them said something that made Garuda frown.

The other added a gesture, a wave of the hand followed by another firm shake of the head. Garuda dropped his arms, shoulders slumping.

He nodded reluctantly, gave what looked like an apologetic motion, and turned back, tail dragging slightly behind him.

He approached the bush again.

Norian, still seated, leaned slightly forward.

"What did they say?"

Garuda scratched the back of his neck, claws raking through rough scales.

"Well... they said they can't let us in right now."

Norian's brow furrowed.

"Why not?"

"They said… everyone's asleep. And opening the gate for an unfamiliar creature—their words, not mine—is dangerous at night. Especially with no one else awake to back them up if something goes wrong."

He shrugged helplessly.

"We have to wait until dawn. When the village wakes up."

Norian sat quietly for a moment, absorbing that.

"...Fair point,"

He muttered.

"I guess I'd be cautious too, if I were them."

He exhaled slowly and looked toward the flickering gate again.

"Still, it's good they didn't outright reject me."

Garuda gave a small nod.

Norian dusted off his pants, stood up with a stretch, and said,

"Well, since we've got time to kill… let's continue our conversation. Otaku culture, chapter two."

Garuda's eyes lit up like a child offered candy.

"Really? Sure!"

"Then let's find a comfortable tree,"

Norian said, glancing around.

"We'll settle in and talk there."

Garuda nodded eagerly. Without a word, he bounded into the underbrush and vanished with a rustle of leaves and a flick of his tail.

Norian stood in the fading edge of the firelight, then turned his gaze upward at the glowing canopy above. Quiet. Alive. Waiting.

He adjusted his scarf, muttered under his breath,

"Sleeping villagers. Suspicious guards. Giant forest glowing like a mood lamp. And I'm explaining anime tropes to a reptile warrior."

He smiled faintly.

"Yeah... sounds about right."

And with that, he followed Garuda into the forest.

-To Be Continued