As soon as they entered, the ground disappeared.
The sensation was immediate and brutal: stomachs churning, air escaping their lungs.
They were falling.
Literally.
From the sky.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!" screamed Takumi, his arms spinning like propellers.
"THIS MUST BE A JOKE, I'M GOING TO DIE!!!" shouted Renjiro, clutching his mask as if that would help.
Reika, on the other hand… stood with her arms crossed, hair blowing in the wind, hovering in the void with an utterly bored expression.
"This is stupid."
"HOW ARE YOU SO CALM?!" shouted Takumi.
"Because I'm too tired to panic.[1]" she replied, emotionlessly.
Then Tenax's deep, thoughtful voice echoed through the invisible skies around them:
"Fear not. In Yumehara, the impact of a fall does not harm the body as in the physical world. This is a plane where your spirit shapes matter, and at this moment, your spirit is… confused. Therefore, the fall represents entry, not destruction."
"Great, then we can die metaphorically." murmured Reika.
Renjiro, even amidst the panic, opened his eyes for a second.
That's when he saw.
Yumehara.
First came the light, not from the sun, but from a strange sky, blurred between a crystalline blue and shades of lavender, as if painted with dreamlike brushstrokes.
Then came the buildings, of traditional Japanese architecture, but with impossible details.
There were floating temples tethered to the ground by golden chains, houses with curved roofs that gently changed shape, and bridges that stretched over lakes… of sand.
Yes, a beach of living sand, in light, almost phosphorescent shades. The sea that touched that beach looked like water… but moved slowly, as if it had the density of liquid glass. The sound of the waves was… melody. A harmonious whisper that filled the air.
And in the midst of it all… people.
Or, at least, they looked like people.
Long robes, masks hanging from their waists or fastened to their shoulders. Some had bright eyes, like embers. Others looked like normal humans, until they smiled with teeth that resembled fragments of cracked pottery.
Renjiro remained in absolute silence.
His heart raced not from fear, but from pure shock.
"… Is this real?" he whispered.
Nyxalith spoke for the first time since entering, with an almost proud tone:
"Welcome to Yumehara… The world between worlds. Where masks awaken. Where the past sleeps. Where everything can begin… or end."
The three bodies began to slow down in the air, as if an invisible force supported them.
Below, a circular platform rose from the ground, made of white stone with inscriptions engraved in spirals.
It seemed to have been made… to their measure.
They were arriving. And Yumehara… was already waiting for them.
Their feet landed lightly on the platform, but the hearts of the three beat like marching drums.
Takumi fell to his knees, breathless. Reika remained standing, arms crossed, eyes attentive to every detail.
Renjiro placed his hand on the ground, as if to make sure that this was really real.
The circular platform was made of cold, white stone, engraved with fine spirals that shimmered softly underfoot.
Around it, Yumehara pulsed with life.
Reika looked around, her gaze absorbed by everything.
The city breathed, full of commerce, voices, and movement. Tents covered in colorful fabrics lined the streets. Birds with iridescent plumage flew in spirals above tall towers of wood and crystal. Children ran among fountains that gushed turquoise-blue water, and old people sat in the shade of cherry blossoms, in an eternal Hanami that seemed outside of time.
The sky… an ethereal mixture of blue and lilac, with clouds that seemed made of silk.
And in the background, where the sea should be, there was something between a beach and a mirage: white sand floating lightly above the ground, and an ocean of light, not water, whose waves shimmered like molten glass.
Reika let out a tense sigh.
"This is… too beautiful to be true. But why is… everyone looking at us?"
It was true. Eyes were on them, discreet, suspicious, some almost predatory.
As if they knew that something new, unstable, and dangerous had just arrived.
Renjiro felt the pressure of those gazes, but forced himself to ignore them.
"Let's explore. See what we can discover…"
As soon as his foot left the platform, everything changed.
The air stretched.
A brutal pressure fell upon the three of them like the weight of the sky itself.
Reika staggered, Takumi fell backward, Renjiro almost suffocated, as if a vacuum had sucked all the oxygen away.
The city fell silent.
The lanterns stopped swaying.
The birds froze in flight.
Even the waves of the sea of light… stopped rippling.
And then, a voice.
"Not so fast."
Serene. Low. But spoken with an authority that crushed any doubt. A voice that didn't ask for attention. She took it.
The three turned abruptly.
She was there.
At the foot of the platform, arms behind her back, erect as an ivory statue, observing them with eyes as sharp as a ceremonial dagger.
Shiori.
Tall, impeccable posture.
Her white hair was tied in a high bun, adorned with a golden needle with ginkgo leaf details and a small bell that made no sound.
She wore a long haori, black with teal reflections, embroidered with patterns of waves and broken flowers, a symbol of fragility and power. The fabric, though light, seemed to have spiritual weight. Underneath, a tight-fitting, silver-gray kimono, with a dark blue sash at the waist, where his mask was fastened, a piece sculpted in white and gold tones, cracked vertically in the center, like a secret broken in two.
On her feet, low sandals with straps that went up to her shins.
She didn't need armor. Her gaze was enough.
Shiori tilted her head slightly, her eyes fixed on the three young people in front of her.
"Three bearers. Misaligned. Untrained. Unregistered."
Reika took a step back. The pressure was so intense that her knees almost buckled.
Takumi stammered, barely able to stand:
"W-wh-who are you…?"
Shiori took a single step forward. The ground seemed to tremble.
"The one who prevents you from getting lost. Or jeopardizing everything you don't yet understand."
Renjiro raised his eyes. His chest tightened.
"We're just… rookies. We just arrived."
Shiori parted her lips in an almost-smile.
"And that's why you still have your heads on your shoulders."
The tone was courteous. But there was no doubt: it wasn't a threat. It was a certainty.
The pressure began to dissipate slightly. Just enough to let them breathe.
Nyxalith whispered in Renjiro's ear:
"She… is a guardian. A living wall. Every gesture of hers is calculated. Every word, a sentence. Great caution…"
Shiori fixed her eyes on him.
"Tell me, young masked one… which of you leads this little chaos?"
Renjiro hesitated. Everyone looked at him.
But Shiori didn't expect an answer.
She turned her back with the fluidity of a blade cutting silk.
"Come. Your presence has echoed enough in Yumehara. There are those who wish to hear you. And there are those who wish to silence you."
She made a gesture with two fingers, not an order, but a warning.
"Choose quickly. Here, time waits for the indecisive."
And she began to walk.
Without looking back.
The sound of Shiori's footsteps echoed against the smooth cobblestones of Yumehara's streets. She moved as if the path were opening up before her, and in a way, it was. People in the streets discreetly moved aside, murmuring amongst themselves, their eyes curious or frightened.
Reika crossed her arms, with a sigh of frustration and disdain.
"Well, well... it seems that speaking in riddles and walking ahead like dogs following their owner is now fashionable."
Takumi whispered nervously:
"Reika... maybe you shouldn't..."
But she didn't even want to know.
"With all due respect, which, frankly, I'm forcing, you still haven't told us who the hell you are. You pull us out of a fall, put us under pressure that felt like an elephant sitting on our chests... and then you order us to follow you without a decent explanation?!"
Shiori stopped.
She didn't turn around. But the wind seemed to stop too.
Renjiro, a few steps behind, took a deep breath. He looked at the lilac sky, at the strange and beautiful streets, at the masked people, and then gazed back at Shiori's back.
"She's right." he said calmly. "Clearly you are someone… important. Powerful. But we don't know who you are. And in a land where everything seems to have a hidden meaning… I don't know if we can trust you."
Silence.
For a moment, only the sound of the distant sea could be heard, the singing sea.
Shiori turned slowly, unhurriedly, as if she didn't need to justify herself… but decided to do so anyway.
Her golden eyes landed on Renjiro.
There was an ancient fire there. And a judgment that weighed more than words.
"Trust is not your right. It's something you earn. And in this world, those who trust too soon… die too soon."
She then looked at Reika. Her lips curved into a discreet, almost ironic smile.
"I like you, girl. A sharp tongue reveals who's thinking. But beware, on this plane, there are words that bite back."
Reika didn't answer. But her eyes remained steady. She wouldn't lower her head, not to that woman, not to anyone.
Shiori fixed her gaze on the three for a moment longer, and then took a sideways step, making space on the wide street.
Behind her, a stone staircase led to an imposing structure: a tall tower, with golden spirals engraved on its surface, violet crystal windows, and giant masks embedded in the walls.
The Tower of Voices.
"If you want answers… they're right there." Shiori said, pointing with her chin. "But I warn you, the right questions can open doors. The wrong ones… can seal your fate."
And without another word, she turned again.
"Come or stay?"
Before either of them could answer Shiori's question, the sound of footsteps echoed in the side street beside the staircase.
Soft footsteps. Almost weightless.
But with a… precise rhythm.
The pressure in the air eased in the next instant, as if the world itself had realized that someone more balanced had just entered the scene.
From the shadowy arches between two ceremonial columns, a man emerged.
Izanai.
The contrast was immediate.
While Shiori was cold and intense like the edge of a blade, Izanai walked like the sound of rain on a calm night. His presence was strange, almost hypnotic. Not by force… but by emotional gravity.
He wore a long, open cloak, dark blue in shades with soft gradients to pearly gray at the edges, like smoke dissolving in silk. The inside of the cloak had symbols embroidered in metallic thread, constellations, closed eyes, and circular lines like distorted clocks. The sleeves were wide, falling almost to his fingers, but the fabric seemed to move according to his will.
His hair was black with petrol blue highlights, tied back with a black ribbon. Strands fell down the sides of his face, and his eyes… ah, his eyes.
Izanai had one golden eye and one white eye, without a visible pupil. And yet, each glance he cast seemed to read the entire soul of the person before him.
Around his neck, a carved wooden necklace with a single pendant, a mask split in half, half smiling, half weeping.
He stopped beside Shiori with a tranquil smile, as if he had just finished a philosophical conversation with time.
"I feel sorry for silly Shiori." he said casually, as if apologizing for someone who spilled tea at a ceremony.
Shiori turned abruptly.
"Izanai?!"
For the first time… she broke her posture.
Her shoulders were tense, her eyes wide.
"We're in public. Don't talk like that…!"
"We're always in public, Shiori." he replied, with an almost poetic calm. "And you're always trying to look like the most fearsome woman in Yumehara."
He turned to the three young individuals, looking thoughtful, as if analyzing them with eyes that saw beyond the surface.
"The truth, my dears… is that our Shiori is only acting this way because she wants to make a good impression on you."
Shiori pressed her lips together, her face flushed, whether from anger, embarrassment, or both.
"Izanai, please…"
But he ignored her with a gentle raising of his hand.
"She's a good person. Really. It's just that sometimes she forgets she's not talking to interdimensional war criminals."
Takumi blinked, completely lost.
Reika frowned.
"…Criminals of what…?"
Renjiro, in turn, let out a muffled sigh. The tension he felt seemed… to dissolve.
Izanai smiled again, serene.
"If you enter that tower…" he pointed with a slender finger to the monumental building behind them, the Tower of Voices… you will have the answers you have been seeking since the moment you touched your masks."
He crossed his arms, his eyes observing the strange sky for a moment.
"Inside, you'll understand what Æther is. What a masked entity is. What you are… now."
He paused. His eyes returned to them.
"And you'll also learn the basis of who we are, the Tamashi Zetsumetsu."
Renjiro, Takumi and Reika exchanged confused glances.
"Tamashi… what?" Takumi asked.
"Zetsumetsu." Izanai repeated, with a slightly ceremonial tone. "The Order of the Bearers that protects the balance between this plane… and yours, and many others."
Shiori regained some composure and spoke dryly:
"They don't need to know everything now."
"I said I'd explain later." Izanai replied, looking at the trio. "But I thought they deserved a decent introduction before being sent inside like raw meat into a court of flames."
He winked his left eye, the white one.
"Go in when you're ready. And try not to faint. The first meeting is usually… intense."
Shiori snorted softly, but said nothing more.
The three, Renjiro, Reika, and Takumi, stared at Izanai as if looking at a puzzle that moves on its own. There was something about that man that was… disconcerting.
It wasn't just his serene tone of voice, or the way he spoke with measured words, but always with a smile as if he had already read the last chapter of a book they had barely begun.
Takumi was the first to say something:
"Izanai…? Is that your name? And… who exactly are you here…?"
The man placed his hand on his chest, bowing slightly in a ceremonial gesture, but the mocking smile didn't leave his face.
"I apologize for my lack of manners. You're right, young masked man. With all this confusion, I forgot to introduce myself properly."
He straightened up and looked at the three of them.
"My name is Izanai no Kuroda. Member of the High Council of the Order of Tamashi Zetsumetsu. Responsible for the external connections between the Yumehara plane… and the various fragments of reality where the Fractures occur."
He paused, letting the title settle in the air for a few seconds.
"Or, if you prefer, the nice guy who's going to try to stop you from dying stupidly while you learn to control the masks."
Reika and Takumi exchanged a glance. Renjiro just frowned, absorbing each word as if they were pieces of a larger puzzle.
Izanai then turned to the side, looking at Shiori, who kept her arms crossed, but no longer as rigid as before.
He pointed at her with his thumb, with a slight smile.
"And that charming emotional wall that almost crushed you when you arrived… well, Shiori, since I'm the guy who's going to try to stop them from dying, I think you should tell them what you are. Or are you going to keep pretending you're just a public security agent with a superiority complex?"
Shiori shot him a look of pure dagger.
There was a moment of silence.
Then she took a deep breath and stepped forward, raising her chin with dignity.
"Shiori. First name, last name, and title, all in one."
Her voice returned to its firm, calculated tone, but there was a slight tremor behind it, as if she were still recovering from the subtle humiliation Izanai had inflicted on her moments before.
"I am the Queen of Yumehara. Guardian of the Frontier. Commander of the Tower of Voices. And sovereign of this interdimensional plane. It was thanks to me that this refuge remained intact during the collapse of the Seven Rifts."
Takumi's eyes widened.
"…Queen?!"
Reika let out an incredulous laugh.
"Oh, really…? You're kidding…"
Shiori didn't deign to reply.
She continued to stare at the three with the same cold, distant gaze, though now… more human.
"Yumehara is a land of balance. Here, the forces of Æther, the plane of masks, and the remnants of human reality converge. Without order, all of this falls. And that is why my word… is law."
Renjiro narrowed his eyes, observing her intently.
"So you're some kind of goddess in a pretty uniform…"
"No." Shiori replied firmly. "I am a woman who carries a burden greater than any of you can comprehend at this moment. And my appearance, Renjiro Arata… is the least important thing."
He remained silent for a few seconds.
"You know my name…"
"If we didn't know who the newcomers were, what kind of sovereigns would we be?" Izanai said, with an amused air, cutting through the tension.
He leaned slightly toward Shiori.
"Despite the theatrics… she's right. You are now on a plane where the laws are different. And your names, your masks, your destinies… all of that was recorded the moment you crossed the Fracture."
Shiori then turned, her cloak billowing gently in the still wind of Yumehara.
"Enter the tower. The Council wants to see you. And time… here, it has a habit of behaving unpredictably."
Renjiro crossed his arms, still standing in the same place.
"And what if we decide not to go in?"
Izanai chuckled softly, without sarcasm.
"Ah, my dear… Then the masks go in without you."
[1] A quick side note. As soon as Reika turned 16, she went skydiving several times with her uncle, who used to be a skydiver. Meanwhile, she got used to this kind of environment, and becoming a skydiver became one of her biggest dreams for the future.