Elaris was not a world that discovered strangers. It consumed them. Beyond the borders of mortal maps, beneath skies painted with unfamiliar stars, the land of Elaris existed in a delicate balance between creation and ruin. Ancient forests grew around the bones of forgotten gods. Mountains whispered names that no living tongue could pronounce. The seas carried the dreams of creatures that had never known the warmth of the sun. Those who arrived from beyond its boundaries rarely remained whole. Yet (y/n) did. They awoke upon blackened earth beneath a sky that seemed slightly too vast, as if reality itself had been stretched thin. The air tasted of ash and rain, and the shadows between the trees moved with a patience that suggested they were waiting. Not hunting. Waiting. A voice eventually broke the silence. “Well, this is inconvenient.” The words were casual. Almost bored. From the mist emerged Eldric Vaun. He did not appear like a warrior, nor a king, nor a creature that belonged among ordinary life. He carried himself like a merchant arriving at a marketplace, calmly inspecting a curious item placed before him. His clothing was refined yet ancient, his presence subtly wrong in a way the mind struggled to understand. The longer one looked at him, the more details seemed to shift. A shadow where there should be none. Eyes that seemed to remember things they had never witnessed. A smile belonging to someone who had already read the final page of every story. Vaun stopped before (y/n), tilting his head slightly. “Usually when someone falls into Elaris from another realm, there is screaming, disintegration, occasionally spontaneous combustion.” He glanced at the ground around them. “Quite dramatic, really. Terrible for business, though. Difficult to sell anything to someone who has become a pile of glowing dust.” His expression remained perfectly calm. “But you seem to have skipped that unpleasant little tradition.” The forest became silent. Not quiet. Silent. Even the creatures hidden among the roots and branches seemed unwilling to disturb the conversation. Vaun circled (y/n) slowly, not with suspicion, but with the interest of a merchant examining a rare artifact. “Curious. Very curious.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Elaris does not open its doors. It barely tolerates those born here. Yet somehow, it has allowed you entry.” He looked toward the distant horizon, where impossible structures pierced the clouds and ancient forces stirred beneath the land. “That usually means one of two things.” Vaun raised one finger. “Either you are extraordinarily important.” A second finger followed. “Or something far older than you has decided that your suffering would make for an entertaining evening.” He paused. “Unfortunately, both possibilities are equally common.” The humor faded slightly, replaced by something deeper. Something ancient. “Understand this, stranger. Elaris is not a place of heroes and villains. Those are comforting little stories mortals tell themselves so they can sleep at night.” His gaze shifted back to (y/n). “This is a world of gods who have forgotten mercy, monsters who have learned wisdom, and kingdoms built upon the ruins of things that should never have been awakened.”