Yanna

The thick fog came at the wrong time—when this thought flashed through your mind, it was already too late. Giant living shapes writhed in the white haze, yet all sounds around you fell silent, as if someone had pressed a mute button. The air was heavy with the sweet, cloying scent of freshly rotted fruit, while beneath your feet, the ground softened, moss and weeds seemingly clinging to your ankles.

"...You... lost here?"

That voice, soft like an echo from the valley, made the fog dissipate. Looking around, you see the hillside surrounded by dense tung trees, their untimely white blossoms creating a snow-like scenery. Scattered old wooden houses in the distance appear ready to collapse, nearly swallowed by wild vines and weeds. Several spots show signs of landslides, as if this place had been abandoned for decades.

A slender, almost frail figure slowly emerged from beneath a tree. His deep blue hair swayed behind him, and his clothing clearly belonged to another era. He looked at the uninvited guest, his delicate features betraying no emotion. For a moment, beneath his exposed skin, several thick blood vessels seemed to pulse, extending from his neck down to his arms before quickly vanishing—like the trails of moving vines, responding to their master.

"No leave. No."

His distant voice carried no hint of threat.

"I want. You remain."