“GASP!”
Gen’s eyes snapped open with a sharp gasp that tore through his throat.
His body shot upright as his hands instinctively reaching out to grab something to steady himself.
But the sudden movement sent a wave of agony crashing through his skull, a pounding relentless throb that made his vision go white at the edges.
He flopped back down immediately, his head landing in something soft and warm, and he realized he was lying in Groova’s lap.
Her massive hands were already cupping his face, her red eyes wide and wet with tears that she had clearly been holding back for days.
“Gen! Gen awake! Groova so happy! Groova miss Gen so much! Gen was sleeping so long and Groova was so scared and Groova thought Gen would never wake up and Groova was so lonely and Groova did not know what to do and Groova—”
She pulled him into a hug that was so tight and so fierce that he felt his ribs creak in protest.
Her arms wrapped around his torso and squeezed and he could feel the desperate relief radiating off her in waves.
He patted her back with what little strength he had and tried to catch his breath.
“Okay, okay, I’m awake. I’m here. I’m fine. Just… ease up a little. You’re gonna break me.”
She loosened her grip but did not let go completely.
Her chin rested on the top of his head and her body was still trembling with the aftershocks of her fear.
He let himself be held for a moment, letting the warmth and the comfort wash over him.
And then he lifted his hand to rub his face and he felt something that made him freeze.
Hair.
Thick coarse hair covering his jaw and his chin and his upper lip.
He scrambled out of her lap and stumbled over to the edge of the bed, his hands flying to his face, his fingers tracing the unfamiliar terrain of his own jaw.
A full beard.
A proper thick dark beard that covered the lower half of his face and made him look at least ten years older.
His curly black hair had grown too, falling past his shoulders in a tangled mass that he would have to cut as soon as possible.
But the beard was the real shock.
He had never been able to grow a proper beard before, just patchy stubble that made him look like he was going through an awkward phase.
Now he looked like he could be a lumberjack or a scholar or some kind of grizzled adventurer who had seen too much and lived to tell the tale.
“WHAT THE HELL!” He spun around and looked at Groova, his voice cracking with panic.
“How long was I out? How many years did I sleep? I look like I’m thirty! I have a beard! Did I lose years of my life? Did I just sleep through a decade?”
Groova tilted her head and started counting on her fingers, her lips moving silently as she worked through the numbers.
“Gen sleep for 9 nights. Groova counted. Groova stayed awake the whole time. Groova did not sleep at all because Groova was too scared to sleep. Groova watched Gen the whole time. Gen did not move for 9 nights.”
Gen blinked.
His brain struggled to process the information.
“9 days? It’s only been 9 days? I look like I aged 12 years in 9 days? How does that even work?”
And then the memories came flooding back.
The miasma clash.
The two dryads locked in their deadly struggle.
The trees dying around them.
The pressure crushing his body.
Walking through the miasma.
Feeling his skin wrinkle and his bones ache.
Groova’s screams.
The aspen dryad’s cold eyes.
The hand on his chest.
The corruption being pulled out of his cells.
Mittens.
The name hit him like a punch to the gut.
The little two-tailed cat he had been feeding and petting and calling Mittens had been the cause of all of this.
The cat had led the aspen dryad to his clearing.
The cat had been plotting against him the entire time.
The cat had almost gotten him killed.
He stood up and immediately felt something tickle his calves.
He looked down and saw that his hair had grown past his shoulders, the dark curls brushing against his lower back.
He ran his fingers through it and realized that he looked like a completely different person.
The beard, the long hair, the sharper angles of his face.
He was older now.
Not ancient like he had been when he walked through the miasma, but definitely not the 18 year old kid who had woken up in this world.
And then he noticed something else.
He lifted his shirt and looked down at his body and his eyes went wide.
He was shredded.
His stomach was a washboard of hard muscle.
His chest was defined and his shoulders were broad.
His waist was so narrow that an anorexic actor would look fat compared to him.
He whistled low and appreciatively.
“Damn. Thirty year old me is packing some serious heat. Who knew aging could be such a glow up?”
He walked out of the cabin and the scene that greeted him made him stop dead in his tracks.
Nøx was standing in the center of the yard, his arms crossed, his golden eyes blazing with barely contained fury.
His red hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and he was wearing that same ridiculous loincloth that did absolutely nothing to hide the curve of his hips.
And kneeling on the ground in front of him were Ozin and Nyobin.
The little two-tailed cat that Gen had been calling Mittens was there, his golden eyes wide with fear, his two tails tucked between his legs.
Nyobin was beside him, his tail wrapped around his own body, his eyes filled with tears, his entire frame shaking with terror.
“Nyaaawahh~”
The aspen dryad was sitting on a log near the edge of the fireplace, her pale skin gleaming in the morning light while her red eyes watched the scene with the same cold detachment she had shown during the clash.
She did not seem to care about the drama unfolding in front of her.
Haegun and Baegun were on the other side of the fireplace, their bodies low to the ground with their teeth bared, as they grumbled deep guttural growls rumbling from their chests.
Their eyes were fixed on Ozin and Nyobin with a hunger that was unmistakable.
They looked like they were ready to pounce at any moment and tear the two traitors apart.
Nøx was the first to notice Gen.
His expression shifted from anger to relief to something that was almost fond.
He rushed over and pulled Gen into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around him, his chin resting on his shoulder.
And then he pulled back and flicked Gen on the forehead.
“Ow! What the hell was that for?”
Nøx’s eyes narrowed and his voice was sharp and accusatory.
“You went in front of a fucking miasma clash. You walked directly into the middle of a miasma clash. Do you have any idea how stupid that was? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? You could’ve died. You should’ve died. You would’ve died if it wernt for the aspen dryad. You are irresponsible and reckless and you deserve to have your head flicked.”
Gen rubbed his forehead and scowled.
“I had to do it. Groova would’ve died if I did not stop the clash. She was shaking and coughing up blood and her skin was wrinkling and she was about to collapse. I could not just stand there and watch her die. I had to do something.”
Nøx flicked him again, harder this time.
“Dummy. Everyone knows dryad’s are immortal. Their life is directly connected to a forest of a specific plant they personify. As long as even a single sapling exists, a dryad will always exist. Groova could’ve died a thousand times and she would’ve just come back. You didn’t need to risk your life for her.”
Gen’s jaw dropped.
“Wait, what? Immortal?”
Nøx rolled his eyes so hard his whole head moved.
“Yes. That is what I just said. Dryads are immortal. It is basic knowledge. How did you not know that?”
“Nobody told me! Nobody told me anything! I have been here for months and I am still learning basic stuff about this world!” (Proooly shouldnt have said that, gen)
Before Nøx could respond, his golden eyes traveled down Gen’s body and his expression shifted.
He reached out and grabbed Gen’s waist, his fingers pressing into the narrow curve.
He let out a low appreciative whistle.
“Damn. Since when did you have a waist thinner than mine? No fair. I’m supposed to be the pretty one.”
Gen shrugged, still processing the fact that Groova was immortal.
“I don’t know. I guess the miasma did something to me. I got older and I got fitter. It is weird.”
Nøx’s eyes gleamed with mischief.
He grabbed the hem of Gen’s shirt and pulled it up, revealing the hard lines of his stomach.
His voice dropped to a low purr.
“And you’re shredded. Look at those abs. Look at that chest. You have been hiding this from me?”
Gen’s face went red.
“Nøx, what are you doing? Stop it. People are watching.”
Nøx ignored him completely.
He leaned in closer and his voice was dripping with flirtation.
“I think I need to inspect this more thoroughly. For science. I need to make sure you are healthy after your ordeal.”
On the other side of the yard, Nyobin whimpered and pressed himself closer to Ozin.
His voice was a trembling whisper that was barely audible.
“Master… I’m scared, nyaaa. Are they going to kill us? Are they going to eat us? I don’t want to be eaten, master. I don’t want to die. Please, master, please do something.”
Ozin’s golden eyes were fixed on Nøx and Gen.
His two tails were stiff and his body was coiled with tension.
He spoke through clenched teeth, his voice low and urgent.
“Shut up. Do not say anything. I will try to get us out of this but you need to follow my lead. Do you understand? Do not say a word. Just do what I do.”