A spatial rift opened in the room.
Noan stepped out first.
Right after, Yuna, Noralia, Vaelyth, and Monica appeared one by one.
The moment they left the snow-covered world, Monica immediately collapsed to her knees. She braced her hands against the floor, gasping for breath, her face pale as if all her strength had just been drained away.
Vaelyth was a little better off, but she too had to brace one hand against the wall just to stay standing. Her silver hair hung down, her lips slightly pale, but her gaze was no longer hazy as before.
Noralia hurriedly went to the two of them.
"Are you alright?"
Monica wanted to answer, but her throat caught. She lowered her head and looked at her own hand, then clenched it, opened it, then clenched it again.
This feeling was very strange.
Her body was still cold.
But within that cold, she could sense something she had not felt in a very long time.
The flow of time.
Her heart was beating.
Her breath was growing warm.
