"Wow," Gael muttered, still half in disbelief, "and just like that, I've got a game interface."
He brushed dirt off his hands and fell into step beside the Grey Wizard, who walked calmly as if none of this were unusual.
"Hey, old man," Gael said, glancing over. "How exactly did you 'pull me through the gate'? I didn't even see a gate anywhere."
The Grey Wizard chuckled, amused by Gael's confusion. "Ha! The 'gate,' as you call it, is not where you were standing."
He lifted his staff and pointed toward the horizon. High above, nestled among the dim twilight clouds, a faint blue star shimmered—soft, pulsing, alive.
"It's there," he said quietly.
Gael squinted, shading his eyes. "That? That's not a gate, that's a star."
"Perhaps," the wizard replied. "Or perhaps it's the light of a door already closed."
Gael stared at it, unsure if the old man was being poetic or deadly serious. "You're really bad at making this sound less creepy, you know that?"
The Grey Wizard smiled faintly. "Good. Then you're still thinking like one who hasn't forgotten what fear is."
Gael squinted up at the faint blue star glimmering high above.
"You're telling me I came out of that? That's insane! How did I even survive—space, or whatever that was? And how did you get up there to pull me through?"
The Grey Wizard followed his gaze, staff resting lightly in his hand.
"Ah… the Blue Star," he said softly. "It's been a long time since that light shone so vividly."
"How long?" Gael asked.
"Roughly five thousand years," the wizard replied. "The last time it appeared, the scholars of the old world called it the Path of the Beyond—a bridge between realms. A passage, nothing more. It opens for but a moment, and only to those who seek it, knowingly or not."
Gael frowned. "So it's… like a doorway in the sky?"
"Precisely," the wizard said, nodding. "A doorway, not a god, nor a curse, nor a sign of doom. It does not change the world—it merely allows what must cross… to cross."
He paused, his tone turning thoughtful. "There are old stories, though. Some say that in that same era, an ancient civilization—far more advanced than any that followed—constructed great engines to harness the Blue Star's power. They sought to stabilize the passage, to make travel between worlds as simple as walking through a door."
Gael blinked, half-distracted by the faint shimmer of the star. "And it worked?"
"For a time, perhaps," the wizard murmured. "But the records end suddenly. Their cities turned silent, their monuments cracked, and the knowledge of their craft vanished with them. When the Blue Star last faded, so too did that civilization. All that remains are ruins and a few fragments of their writings—warnings, mostly."
"Warnings?" Gael asked uneasily.
"That some doors," the wizard said quietly, "should never be forced open twice."
The air fell still. The light of the Blue Star pulsed faintly overhead, steady and silent, as though listening.
"Okay blue star is not a star but an interdimensional gate made by an ancient and powerful civilization that got wiped out of nowhere. What about the actual star?"
"When the last beam of sunlight slips below the horizon, the world changes. That's when the creatures of the dark begin to stir—hunting for anything that moves. You wouldn't want to be their midnight meal."
"Wait, so you're telling me the sun's basically a giant monster repellent?"
"You could say that," the Grey Wizard replied with a faint chuckle, though there was a weight beneath his tone that told Gael he wasn't entirely joking.
"But remember this," the Grey Wizard warned, his voice dropping low. "Never cross a man with long, golden hair — not if you value your life."
"Why is this person someone to be feared?" Gael asked, curiosity outweighing caution.
"Yes," the Grey Wizard replied softly — but his voice carried an unease that Gael hadn't heard before. His eyes flickered, as if recalling something best left forgotten. "Feared… and avoided, if you value your sanity."
Gael frowned. "You talk like he's some kind of monster."
The old man's grip tightened on his staff. "Monster? No. Far worse. A man — with the temper of a god and the mischief of a child. They call him many things, but one name echoes above the rest… the Golden Brat. Not even the sun itself can drive him away."
"Okay…" Gael muttered, glancing at the Grey Wizard. From the way the old man spoke about this Golden Brat, he could tell — whoever that was, they were bad news.