Moaning wails filled every corner of my hearing, building from dead silence to an overwhelming chorus. The cries of the lost. The cries of the dying.

It filled me with the same sensation I'd felt when the ghostly woman had touched me before—her pent-up sorrow and despair flooding through me, raw and unfiltered. A torrent of sadness, anger, and regret.

Change that of the past to never occur again.

This singular thought kept me anchored, a lighthouse in the storm of despair swirling around me.

“I won’t let it happen again!” I screamed, my voice echoing into a void where even my words felt distant and muffled. Strangely, the wailing receded.

A lone voice emerged from the quiet, gentle but clear: “Save us then...or you'll die.”

I paused, feeling my voice finally return to me, and asked, "Why...is that?"

“Because,” it replied softly, "if you fail, you'll face it alone. Standing together means we both survive..."

The voice faded, replaced by a sudden pulling force. I was ejected abruptly from the darkness, landing face-first onto solid ground with a painful thud. Fortunately, the fall wasn’t high enough to cause serious damage, but my already bruised shoulder protested sharply.

“Gah!” Dirt found its way between my lips, grains grinding unpleasantly against my teeth. I pushed myself up and brushed off the dust, eyes widening as I took in my surroundings.

“How…no, I shouldn't even ask...”

The eerie, decaying swamp I'd known had vanished, replaced by vibrant foliage bursting with colorful blooms. Green leaves rustled gently around me, sunlight filtered softly through branches. I turned in disbelief, completing a full rotation. Had I fallen into a dream?

“Come on! I heard an elk over here!” a youthful male voice echoed from the trees ahead.

I frowned slightly. An elk? I'd never encountered elk here before. Cautiously, I drew my pistol from its holster, keeping it angled low and ready at my side.

Moments later, a young man emerged from behind a large tree. He paused, taking in my attire with a curious expression but showed no fear, despite the gun. A bow was slung over his shoulder, a few arrows gripped loosely in one hand.

Behind me came the unmistakable sound of a bowstring being pulled taut. "Don't. Move," ordered a firm, feminine voice, each word sharp and deliberate.

"Wasn't planning to." Slowly, I holstered my gun and raised my hands calmly. "I come from far away. I don't fully understand why, but I was told to help the people of this forest."

Murmurs floated from hidden locations amidst thick bushes and dark-barked trees. Then, a soft, melodic voice whispered directly beside my ear, so close I could feel the breath against my skin. Startled, I spun quickly around, stepping back.

Standing before me was a woman in finely crafted leather armor, her beauty immediately captivating. But what truly gripped me was her face. Her eyes. This was the ghost woman from the fortress.

“Uh…I…I’m sorry,” I stammered awkwardly, trying to regain composure.

"Huh?" She raised an elegant eyebrow, confused.

"My name’s Jaeger," I quickly added, attempting to salvage my introduction.

She studied me briefly before nodding. "Strange name, but pleasant enough. Come, our village isn’t far. You don't seem dangerous. If you are, well, we'll simply take care of you from behind."

She pointed casually ahead, prompting me to walk forward. A group of about ten emerged, falling into step behind us, the young bowman included.

As we moved, I quietly spun my bracelet, activating two lightning runes. An uneasy thought gnawed at me: If I save her here, does that change everything I've gained in the future? Will something else replace it, given the unpredictability of the Boon of Mystery?

Pretending to adjust my cloak, I discreetly retrieved the lyre from within its folds. Settling the instrument across my chest, I began to play softly, my fingers moving intuitively across the strings.

The melody started without conscious direction, reflecting my chaotic thoughts and emotions—the lingering sorrow of the wailing ghosts, the pain of isolation. Gradually, I became aware of the group around me listening closely, sadness evident in their expressions. I realized belatedly that the haunting tune mirrored my memory of the ghost woman, burdened with melancholy.

Trying to shift the mood, I altered the melody slightly, but the atmosphere remained somber.

Did you really want me to save you?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘1. The ghost woman came from the same era as the ghosts surrounding me…’
‘2. I was sent into the past, into the same era as both the ghostly crowd and the ghost woman. A village existed here before it became the devastated place I had previously encountered.’
‘3. Something catastrophic altered or corrupted this place, turning it into the haunted ruin I had seen. The undead might even be the villagers themselves, trapped in eternal suffering.’

Several crucial points needed immediate consideration. I had to prevent the past from becoming the future I’d already witnessed. Without knowing precisely what triggered this disaster, finding an answer felt daunting. My life and my team's survival likely depended on uncovering and preventing whatever tragedy awaited this place.

Even without specifics, I could at least structure the situation clearly:

These were either all or some of the population that had been struck by a cataclysm, one that they are unware of at this moment occurring somewhere or here beneath our feet. I was a variable with knowledge of failure, not the event itself, and that is the only real tool I have at the moment to break the cycle by being an outlier.

The distraction was brief, as several buildings soon appeared before us, pulling my focus back to reality.

“Come in,” the ghost woman spoke softly, guiding me through a tall door within walls at least fifteen feet high. “Our village has elders; they will decide your fate.”

Once inside, my eyes quickly assessed the layout. Buildings were unique and purposeful—some elegantly constructed, others rustic yet sturdy. Oddly, despite their bows and simple attire, their architecture felt surprisingly modern.

A blacksmith’s shop stood prominently beside a botany shop, and nearby was—an item shop?

‘Wait…an item shop?’ Curiosity pulled me toward a dark oak door. As I tried peeking through low windows, the ghost woman dragged me away with surprising strength.

“She sure is fiery,” I thought. Briefly, she reminded me of Alexandra, but I dismissed that memory quickly.

An elderly man appeared on a terrace, sweeping slowly. Spotting us, he sighed, placed his broom aside, and walked swiftly downstairs to greet us at the door.

“What brings you here again?” he asked, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Stop being so crafty,” the woman replied with playful annoyance. “I’m too young for you! This man appeared outside our village, claiming he was sent to prevent something terrible. He plays the lyre exceptionally well.”

“A lyre player, hmm?” The elder studied me thoughtfully. “Send him in. This old man isn’t worried.”

I nodded respectfully, moving forward through the gathered villagers. The elder closed the door after exchanging a few quiet words with the group outside. I studied their faces, postures, investigating anything I could absorb of the current situation. No one gave an odd read, I felt no ‘weird sense’ looking at any of them.

“So…you must be the one they sent,” he remarked, eyeing me curiously.

I withdrew a vanilla cigarette, drawing a raised eyebrow from the elder. Recognizing my gesture, he produced his own rolled tobacco, lighting it with practiced ease.

“Sent?” I asked directly, holding his gaze. “Do you know what future awaits this place?”

“I have premonitions,” the elder admitted calmly, exhaling smoke. “Your arrival—and a terrible fate—is among them. But are you here as the doom itself or the one to avert it? All I ever saw was failure and then suddenly you.”

His words struck me unexpectedly. Lighting my cigarette, I inhaled deeply, savoring the calming smoke.

We sat in silence, each quietly appraising the other, until the elder suddenly remembered something. Rising smoothly, he fetched a kettle and set out two copper cups and a wooden tray. A familiar scent filled the air as he poured the tea—chai, rich and fragrant.

We sipped quietly, the elder observing me thoughtfully before breaking the silence. “Well?”

“Do you prefer brutal honesty or a carefully woven tale?” I asked wryly, taking another sip.

The elder considered this, raising his cup slightly. With a sigh, he said, “Damn it. Hit this old man with the truth.”

I chuckled softly, but my amusement quickly faded. Leaning forward, my voice became serious. The elder mirrored my posture, his sharp eyes locked onto mine.

“I come from a future,” I began solemnly, “where this place is nothing but a ruin trapped in a demiplane. A god tasked me to save people within that ruined plane. But circumstances brought me here, into your past, to prevent whatever disaster created that future. I don’t know what this will do to my own timeline if I prevent those events from happening but…it’s what I must do.”

The elder studied me silently, cigarette smoldering between his fingers. Finally, he spoke softly, almost hesitantly, “Who from our village did you see in that ruin?”

I exhaled deeply, my heart heavy with the memory. “The woman who brought me here,” I replied slowly. “She was a ghost, cursed and tormented. She was the third guardian, commanding monsters against my comrades. Eventually, I defeated her. By sheer stupid luck but I think it was almost fated to occur.”

He drew a long breath, smoke curling upward. “The past…” he murmured thoughtfully, his gaze distant and troubled.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------