A guard tossed a cloth pouch at Hank with a casual flick of his wrist."Five silvers per beast. Three today—split the fifteen how you like."
Hank caught the pouch, gave it a shake. The jingle of coins brought a grin to his face.
He poured them into his palm, counting them carefully before dividing them into three equal piles.
"Jeb—your cut." Hank slapped five coins into the older man's waiting hand.
Jeb's chuckle rasped like grinding stone as he tucked the silver into a small leather pouch sewn inside his belt.
"Here, buddy." Hank pressed another five silvers into Ryan's palm.
Ryan hesitated, turning the unfamiliar coins over in his fingers. His rough-spun tunic offered few hiding places—just sagging pockets stitched by someone with more haste than skill.
After a moment's inspection, he slipped the coins into a waist pouch barely large enough to hold them.
"Listen up!" A guard barked. "Two of you, haul the carcasses to the Renderyard.One stays to clean the wall."
Hank eyed the carcasses, then looked at Ryan and stated flatly, "You can't lift these. Stay and scrub the wall."
He bent at the knees, hefting the crimson lizard's carcass onto his back and securing it with a length of rope before slinging the Galebeast over one shoulder like a sack of grain.
He then reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pouch of bloodveil powder and tossing it to Ryan. "After you're done, sprinkle this where the blood was."
As guards lowered rope ladders into the city, Hank adjusted the weight on his back, tightening the rope securing the lizard before gripping the ladder. With the Galebeast still slung over his shoulder, he descended one-handed, steady and sure.
Jeb followed, a second lizard carcass strapped securely to his back with leather cords.
Ryan watched them disappear before instinctively glancing at his forearm.
[Survive and return: 00:01:03]
Relief washed over him. Just a little longer, and he'd be back in the real world.
Then, a thought struck him—Sasha. The dog had bolted earlier. Where was it now? If it wasn't nearby when the countdown hit zero, would it still return with him?
"Hey! Quit standing around and get to work!" a guard snapped.
Ryan scrambled for the bristle brush and bucket Hank had left behind.
BOOOOM!
A deafening thunderclap split the sky.
Ryan's head snapped up as lightning streaked across the sky. He suddenly realized—the moment he had entered this world, thunder had roared just like this. That couldn't be a coincidence.
His gaze dropped to his forearm.
[Survive and return: 00:00:04]
00:00:03
00:00:02
"Oi! Slacking again?" A guard's shout pierced the air—the last words Ryan would ever hear in this hellhole.
00:00:00
His body shattered into countless digits and symbols, scattering in all directions.
Then, once again, he plunged into the darkness, flickering with endless lines of code.
Time blurred—Ryan couldn't tell how long he'd been trapped in that void—until suddenly, he reformed.
Digits and symbols collapsed inward, solidifying into flesh and bone in a heartbeat.
Sasha materialized atop him, warm and whole, her weight pressing into his chest exactly as before.
Everything around him was exactly the same. His room. His desk. His bed.
A shuddering breath escaped him. "We made it," he murmured into Sasha's fur, fingers trembling as he scratched behind her ears. "Alive. Fucking alive."
After a moment, he carefully nudged Sasha aside, about to reach for his phone on the desk. Without thinking, he tried to stand—
Nothing happened.
His legs didn't respond.
Right. He'd forgotten. He was paralyzed.
A hollow ache spread through his chest as memories of the other world surged back—running, leaping, the wind against his skin. No wheelchair. No limits.
Now - gone. Like it never happened.
Ryan let out a quiet sigh. Whatever. At least I'm alive.
He rolled himself to his desk and grabbed his phone.
The phone screen displayed the time: 00:00.
Ryan's breath hitched as he stared.
Seconds later, the numbers changed—
00:01.
"What the hell?" The words tore out of him. "That was a full hour over there!"
Sasha whined as his grip tightened on the phone. The math didn't add up. Unless...
Had it all just been a dream?
Ryan frowned, straining to recall every detail of that other world. The memories were too vivid, too real—there was no way it had all been just a dream.
Then, it hit him. The app.
Snatching up his phone, he tapped the [Another World] icon. That damn walnut-shaped symbol—he'd never thought much of it before. But now? Now he was sure.
It was a Lumin Core.
The screen loaded. No countdown this time. Just a glaring red message:
[Sorry! System under maintenance and updates.]
Ryan stared at the crimson text,his confusion deepening. The app was still there, yet that didn't prove anything.
Everything in that world had felt real.
But now? Everything here was calm, normal—as if he had never left this room at all.
He clenched the phone until his knuckles whitened. He had no way to prove any of it had actually happened. The line between reality and illusion blurred, leaving him adrift in a strange limbo.
He exhaled sharply, giving his head a small shake. Focus. Stay calm.
Lifting his arm, he checked his forearm—where the countdown had once been. Nothing. No trace of it. As if it had never existed.
Sasha chose that moment to barrel into him. Her paws batted at his arm, tail whipping the air with idiot joy.
Ryan let out a quiet chuckle, running a hand over her fur.
"Good girl," he murmured. "Go to sleep. Let me think."
Sasha kept batting at Ryan's arm, her persistence wearing his patience thin. With a sigh, he pushed her away—only for her to lunge back, tail wagging furiously. Then, out of nowhere, she spat out something that hit the floor with a sharp clink—a small, gleaming gold object.
Ryan's heart slammed against his ribs. His breath hitched.
"This… is an Another World gold coin?"
He lifted it gingerly, fingers running over the intricate engravings. The design was unmistakable—the same swordsman emblem as the silver coins he had collected in the other world. But this one was heavier, its craftsmanship far more refined.
A rush of exhilaration coursed through him. He had no idea how Sasha had managed to bring it back, but that didn't matter. The coin was real. Proof that it hadn't all been a dream.
Sasha's tail thumped the floor, her whine climbing to an excited aroo! She batted at his arm again, as if demanding praise
Ryan scratched behind her ears, a rough laugh escaping him.
"Good girl."
Ryan eyed Sasha, curiosity gnawing at him. He lowered his voice as if expecting an answer. "Where the hell did you even go over there? And how did you drag this back?"
He turned the coin over in his fingers, its weight solid, undeniable. "Seriously, what did you get up to? This is a gold coin. I scrubbed city walls for five silvers."
Sasha, of course, didn't answer—just tore around the room like a hurricane, launching herself onto the bed before skidding back to the floorboards, her tail whipping like a metronome gone wild.
"Yeah, yeah." Ryan gave a helpless laugh, patting her on the back. "Enough showboating. Go on, get to bed."
With some effort, he herded her out the door and shut it behind her. Finally alone, he sat in his wheelchair, absentmindedly rolling the coin between his fingers, his thoughts a tangled mess.