It was already clear Orion had some deep-rooted trauma.
"*sigh*... This is useless," I rolled my eyes, pushing the boy away and then feeling my eyes roll back into my sockets. And when they rolled forward again, I found myself in front of a little boy. He had not aged in the slightest, but now, he was face to face with a rabbit that he held in his arms. It was bleeding out from several puncture wounds created by arrows. "Useless again."
I had shifted through more and more dreams, but I quickly came to the realization that even after what seemed to be a hundred traumatic memories… the boy had barely aged by even a year.
Death after death. Disease after disease. So many traumatic events came, yet so little time had passed.
"This… isn't where we come from. This place is different… how… even back on the overworld, there weren't places like this."
