The evening descended upon the pocket world, its artificial moon casting a pale, silver glow across the twisted forest. Nero stood at the edge of a small clearing, his eyes scanning the terrain. He had found a spot sheltered by ancient trees, their branches forming a natural canopy overhead. The ground was soft, covered in moss and fallen leaves, a perfect place to rest.
He raised his hand, and the earth beneath him began to shift. With a focused will, he commanded the Law of Earth, shaping the soil into a deep, circular pit. The edges were smooth, the bottom even, a perfect basin. He called upon the Law of Water, and a stream of clear liquid flowed from his palm, filling the pit. The water was cool at first, but he summoned his Law of Fire, a gentle warmth spreading through the water, heating it to the perfect temperature. Steam rose from the surface, curling into the night air.
He had created his own private onsen, a sanctuary in the heart of the wilderness.
