“Is this really what you want to do right now?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you okay with this?”

“You’ve become weak, Himari.”

“You say that, but it’s YOUR subordinates who are crossing barriers and making MY job harder. They are wreaking havoc on the Outer Realm while you stand idly by.”

“If you care so deeply for that pitiful realm, then maybe you should join them in their filth. Your sisters are just as capable enforcers as you are.”

“Tsk”

“That’s not what the numbers say.”

“I forbid you from showing your face here again.”

“WHAT?”

“YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS!”

“Go frolic with the rest of the VERMIN of Outer Realm.”

A jagged seam of light tore itself through the air beneath the trees, hissing like hot iron plunged into oil. Violent layers of reality being forced to lick the damp moss of the forest floor. This type of gate was different from the ones Awa had previously been accustomed to. Not only was the shift longer, but it hurt. All she could do was lie curled on her side after being vomited into this unfamiliar place, the weight of the humid, arborial air hanging around her like a pulsing womb. As she finally stumbled to her feet, Awa winced at the gashes struggling to close themselves on her stomach. “I can’t believe he actually threw me out,” she whined to herself. “I’ve never been on the receiving end of one of those banishment gates. Those things are vicious.” Awa steadied herself and turned in a slow circle. “He was right. I did miss this place.” She always had a soft spot for Outer Realm, especially places like this. The lush, green landscapes dripping from the sides of mountains like giant reserves of emeralds are a stark contrast to the blistering furnace she called home. She used to sneak away to places like this when she was younger to escape her duties as an enforcer. After endless hours of barking orders at hordes of grotesque soldiers, the cool breeze and calm waters of Outer World were a much-needed oasis. Once she had taken in her new surroundings, Awa held out her hand and turned her palm upwards. Before the silence of the forest could even settle, the air again began to pulse with energy. Violet plasma snaked in a circle around her feet as a pink chainsaw forced itself into existence. It landed in her outstretched hand and soon found its home at her hip. She stumbled again. The wounds on her belly had finally closed, but the sudden use of energy shot bolts of pain through the surrounding muscles. Awa sucked a sharp breath through her teeth and pressed a hand against her abdomen, waiting for the tremor in her legs to pass. The forest around her answered with movement of its own. Leaves whispered overhead in heavy waves, branches groaning softly as if something immense had shifted its weight far beyond the tree line. A low chorus of insects buzzed somewhere in the dark undergrowth while pale spores drifted lazily through shafts of green light overhead like dying stars. Awa adjusted the chainsaw at her hip and started forward, boots sinking slightly into the moss with every step. “Alright,” she muttered under her breath, wincing again as another pulse of pain rolled through her stomach. “If he wants me gone that badly, I might as well enjoy the vacation.”

*Roughly 1000 years later*

Himari Awa sat sideways in the old wooden chair on her porch, one leg tucked beneath her as the evening rain fell softly through the surrounding trees. Her little house sat alone on the edge of the forest, looking out over a vast meadow. Windchimes fashioned from the bones of field mice and raccoons added a sweet tone to the natural symphony created by rain and the single radio set up in Awa’s window. A thick grimoire lay open across her lap. Its yellowed pages were crowded with scratchy notes and strange diagrams that seemed to shift in the light. Awa twirled her pen absentmindedly before scribbling another line of text into the margins, pausing every so often to sip tea from a branded restaurant cup that may or may not have been locally smuggled. The solitary radio crackled in and out through layers of static. Some late-night R&B station was desperately clawing at its distorted grave. Suddenly, the music stopped. Awa glanced up from her work. The slow song had been replaced by a muffled announcement concerning a town nearby. “Authorities are urgi- not to travel alone at night following multiple disappearances near Ashford County.” The announcer’s voice was shaking under the radio fuzz. “Witnesses claim several victims vanis- have not released any official details, bu- urging residents to stay inside and keep away from heavily wooded ar-” Awa lowered her pen and looked out into the darkening expanse of the meadow. The forest behind her had gone still. The rain had stopped, and every insect had gone quiet. It’s like the earth itself knew something was wrong. “I guess that’s a good reason to stop for the night,” she said, closing her book and breaking the silence. “This one sounded serious.” Awa stood up and walked back inside. She kicked off her shoes and nudged the door shut with her heel. Compared to the now cold darkness outside, the interior of her house felt impossibly safe. Bookshelves covered nearly every wall of her single room, overflowing with age-worn tomes stacked wherever space allowed. Small charms hung from the shelves on bits of twine. Bone, feathers, herbs, and glass bottles filled with ash or various powders. Candles burned in melted clusters throughout the room, their soft orange light flickering across the ceiling beams and throwing shadows over the crowded walls. Awa crossed the room and sat at the round wooden table near the center of the house. She set the grimoire down beside a scattered pile of half-finished notes; her chair creaked slightly as she leaned back to observe the spread. This wasn’t the first time people had vanished in Ashford County. There had already been gossip going around about hunters entering the forest and never coming back home, but this was the first time that an official warning had been sent out. Awa sighed and rested her chin against her folded hands. “If this is what I think it is…” she trailed off. A glimmer of metallic pink winked at her from across the room, as if to confirm what she already knew. “These boundaries keep getting thinner and thinner.”