Three weeks ago
After Ash left Iron Hold City, the world kept turning—unaware of the tremors that had quietly begun to ripple through the fabric of fate itself. Somewhere far removed from reality, tucked between the folds of space, a hidden dimension bathed in soft azure light drifted in timeless stillness.
On the edge of a tranquil hill, where the clouds filtered the sunlight into a dreamy haze, an old man sat with a fishing rod in hand. The pond below shimmered gently with the occasional ripple, as if the world itself breathed slow and steady around him.
Behind him stood a young girl, barely fourteen. Her arms were crossed, her brows furrowed. She stared at the old man's unmoving back, frustration lacing her voice.
"Hey, old man. Someone's been using your name. Why aren't you doing anything about it?"
The question floated in the air for a moment before he responded, his voice low and composed.
"Why do you ask?"
