[Location: Realm of Iofiel]
It came without warning.
One moment, Grimm stood within the clarity of memory, so structured and contained it was, almost obedient in how recollections should be. The next, that structure gave way, dissolving into something that was less bound. The world shifted beneath him without resistance, and he found himself once again standing within that familiar place.
The ground stretched out in a vast expanse, covered in flowers that did not belong to any world he knew. Their glow was almost restrained but constant—petals emitting a small radiance. Above, the sky was endless, scattered with distant stars that felt closer than they should have been, as if the distance between things here did not obey the same rules.
It was silent, but not empty.
It was familiar, but not his.
Grimm stood still for a moment, letting that familiar air settle into him. There was no tension in his posture.
Then the voice came.
