The capital’s market district was already in full swing when Alex and Veyra returned from the tailor. Carts groaned under the weight of barrels and crates; merchants shouted prices over the din of haggling. Alex carried two bulging packs—one for himself, one for Veyra—while she walked beside him with the easy grace of someone who had once crossed continents on wings.

  They stopped at a provisions stall run by a stout dwarf with a braided beard. Alex began loading the counter with the essentials: dried meats, hard cheese, flatbread, salt, flint and steel, rope, a few waterskins, and several small jars of healing salve the dwarf swore by.

  Veyra watched him quietly, arms folded, then leaned in.

  “The journey to Kharzad will take at least two weeks on foot,” she said. “Even longer if we avoid the main roads. The passes are treacherous this season.”

  Alex nodded, handing over a handful of gold. “I figured. Mountains, forests, whatever else this world throws at us.”

  She tilted her head, crimson eyes glinting with mischief. "You could ride me.”

  Alex froze mid-reach for a sack of dried apples.

  Veyra continued, voice low and teasing. “In dragon form I could carry us both. We would cross the range in days instead of weeks. The wind would be cold, but I would keep you warm.”

  The image hit him like a freight train—himself clinging to the back of a sixty-foot crimson dragon, arms wrapped around a scaled neck, pressed against warm hide while mountains blurred beneath them. His face went hot.

  “I—uh—that’s… generous,” he managed. “But no. I mean, thank you, but… no.”

  Veyra’s brows lifted. “You are shy.”

  “I’m not shy,” he said too quickly. “I just… think walking would be good. For both of us. I want to see this world properly. Forests, settlements, monsters, not just fly over it. Besides—” he glanced at her, softer now “—I like being on the ground with you. Side by side.”

  Veyra studied him for a long moment. Then she smiled—slow, warm, approving. “Then we walk,” she said simply. “And we see everything.”

  Alex exhaled, relieved and a little giddy.

  *Smooth recovery,* the author noted. *You almost turned into a tomato.*

  *Shut up. I’m handling this like an adult.*

  *Sure you are. Now, about that stat thing you wanted to know—focus inward. Like you’re checking your phone in your mind. I built you with the awareness, but you have to activate it.*

  *Thanks for the tutorial, Obi-Wan. I’ll try it when we’re not buying trail mix.*

  *You’re welcome. And don’t call me Obi-Wan. That’s copyright-adjacent.*

  They left Valthar at midday, packs heavy, the northern gate guards giving them the same wide berth they had the day before. Veyra’s presence alone was enough to clear a path.

  The first week took them beyond the Frostspire range—past the charred slopes where Alex had first met her, through narrow passes where snow still clung in shadowed crevices, then down into the vast emerald sprawl of the Verdant Hollow Forest.

  The forest was alive in a way Chicago never was. Trees towered like cathedrals, leaves filtering sunlight into green-gold shafts. Birds called in unfamiliar melodies. And monsters prowled.

  The first encounter came on the third day: a pack of champion goblins—larger than their lesser kin, armored in scavenged plate, wielding jagged blades. They ambushed from the underbrush, shrieking war cries.

  Alex drew the short sword he’d bought in town; Veyra flexed her fingers, flame licking between them.

  The goblins charged.

  Alex moved first—ducked a wild swing, drove his shoulder into the lead goblin’s chest, felt ribs give way. The creature flew backward into its pack. Veyra exhaled a thin stream of fire that ignited the dry leaves around another, sending it scrambling.

  Within moments the pack was broken. Alex finished the last one with a precise thrust; Veyra simply stepped on the neck of one trying to flee.

  He wiped blood from his blade, breathing hard, grinning. “That was… fun.”

  Veyra laughed. “You are enjoying yourself.”

  “Yeah. I am.”

  *Goblins? Really?* the author quipped. *I could’ve written something cooler, like a mini-boss. But no, we start with the green gremlins. Classic.*

  *Hey, they’re a warm-up. Besides, you wrote it. Blame yourself.*

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  *Touché. But admit it—you’re loving the RPG vibes.*

  *Maybe. A little.*

  Later that night, beside a small campfire, they sat shoulder to shoulder. The forest was quiet except for the crackle of flames and distant owl calls.

  Veyra leaned against him, head resting on his shoulder. Her warmth seeped through his cloak.

  “Show me,” she murmured. “Your power. The way you see it.”

  Alex hesitated, then focused inward—just as the author had described. Numbers and text shimmered into view, floating in his vision like translucent HUD elements.

  Alex Reyes

  Level: ???

  Class: ???

  HP: ??? / ??

  MP: ??? / ??

  Strength: ???

  Agility: ???

  Endurance: ???

  Magic: ???

  Skills: ??? (Locked / Undefined)

  Unique: Last Otherworlder – Narrative Awareness

  He blinked.

  “Everything’s just… question marks,” he said quietly. “Like the system doesn’t know what to do with me.”

  *That’s because you’re not from here,* the author explained. *The world’s stat system is like a video game designed by locals. You’re an import—too chaotic, too undefined. It can’t box you in. That’s your edge. Focus harder next time; you might unlock glimpses of potential.*

  *Helpful. Thanks. Didn’t know I was a glitch in the matrix.*

  *You’re welcome. Now stop meta-talking and enjoy the campfire romance.*

  Veyra’s eyes widened. “May I see?”

  He hesitated, then focused on her instead. The HUD shifted.

  Veyra of Kharzad

  Race: Draconoid (Ancient Flame Lineage)

  Level: 87

  Class: Ember Sovereign

  HP: 14,820 / 14,820

  MP: 9,450 / 9,450

  Strength: 412

  Agility: 389

  Endurance: 467

  Magic: 521

  Skills: Flame Dominion, Shape of Flame, Guardian’s Oath, Inferno Heart, … (17 more)

  Title: Crimson Terror (Former), Guardian of Kharzad, Unchained Flame

  Alex whistled low. “You’re… terrifying.”

  She smiled, almost shy. “And you are beyond measure.”

  He looked at her—really looked. The firelight danced in her crimson eyes.

  “I’m glad the system can’t quantify me,” he said. “Means I’m still figuring it out. With you.”

  Veyra’s hand found his. Fingers interlaced. She leaned in slowly, pressing her lips to his temple—soft, lingering, warm enough to make his pulse stutter.

  “I am glad too,” she whispered against his skin.

  They stayed like that for a long time, fire crackling, forest breathing around them, two people who should never have met yet somehow did.

  *You two are going to give me cavities,* the author muttered.

  *Jealous?* Alex thought, smiling against Veyra’s skin.

  *Extremely. Now go fight some more monsters. I’m bored.*

  The days blurred into a rhythm of travel and wonder.

  On the fifth day they met a trio of trolls—massive, moss-covered, surprisingly polite. The leader bowed its boulder-sized head when Veyra greeted them in an ancient tongue. They traded stories around a shared fire; the trolls warned of insectoid nests deeper in the Hollow.

  *Friendly trolls?* Alex thought later, as they waved goodbye. *Like something out of a fairy tale. Or a video game. This world’s full of surprises.*

  *You’re welcome,* the author replied. *I figured you’d like the Witcher vibes. Keeps things interesting.*

  *Yeah, yeah. Don’t pat yourself on the back too hard.*

  The sixth day brought those insects: horse-sized ants with mandibles like scythes, spiders the size of wagons dripping venom that hissed on stone. Alex and Veyra fought back-to-back—him with sword and raw power, her with flame and claw. When the last spider collapsed in a twitching heap, Alex stared at the corpse, fascinated.

  “Back home we have ants the size of my thumb,” he said. “These are… next level. Look at those mandibles—could probably crush a car.”

  Veyra wiped ichor from her hands. “They taste terrible.”

  He laughed until his sides hurt.

  *Insects? Really?* the author chimed in. *I could’ve given you a majestic griffon or something. But no, bugs. Because apparently this is a bug-hunting sim now.*

  *Hey, it’s variety. And they’re huge. Kinda cool in a gross way.*

  *Cool? You’re covered in spider goo. Romantic.*

  *Jealous you can’t write about it firsthand?*

  *Touché. But next time, ask for a dragon fight. For me.*

  Bandits came on the seventh day—six poorly armed men who thought two travelers were easy prey. They didn’t last long enough to regret it. Alex disarmed the leader with a flick of his wrist; Veyra simply exhaled once, and the rest dropped their weapons and fled.

  *Pushover bandits,* Alex thought as they dusted themselves off. *Classic D&D starter mob.*

  *You’re welcome,* the author said. *Keeps the pace snappy. Wouldn’t want you getting rusty before the real threats.*

  *Rust? After goblins, trolls, bugs, and now these clowns? I’m good.*

  That night they made camp beside a stream. No fire—just starlight and the soft rush of water.

  Veyra sat behind him, legs bracketing his, arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Her chin rested on his shoulder.

  “Tell me again about Chicago,” she murmured.

  He leaned back into her warmth, voice low.

  “Lakefront at sunset. The water turns gold and pink. People jog along the path, dogs barking, music from someone’s speaker. You can smell grilled food from the vendors. It’s… ordinary. Perfectly ordinary.”

  Veyra’s arms tightened slightly.

  “I want to see it with you someday,” she said.

  Alex turned his head, brushed his lips against her jaw—soft, tentative.

  “Maybe someday,” he whispered. “Until then… we’ve got this world.”

  She turned him gently in her arms until they were face to face. Foreheads touched. Breaths mingled. Her fingers traced the line of his cheek, slow and reverent.

  “Then we will make this world ours,” she said.

  He kissed her—slow, careful, tasting smoke and spice and something uniquely her. She kissed back with the same careful hunger, hands sliding to his shoulders, pulling him closer.

  When they parted, both breathing unevenly, Alex rested his forehead against hers again.

  *You two are going to give me cavities,* the author muttered. *Actually, I think I do have cavities."

  *Jealous?* Alex thought, smiling against Veyra’s skin.

  *Extremely, and I'm the one writing this. Now go fight some more monsters. I’m bored.*

  They stayed like that under the stars—tangled, warm, and quietly certain.

  The road to Kharzad still stretched ahead.

  But for the first time since he arrived in this world, Alex didn’t feel like he was running toward something.

  He felt like he was walking toward home.

  With her.