Chronos crashed onto the surface of Hachiman's dojo with a thud that resonated like a gong's ring, yet no pain followed.
Omodaru's forceful shove had sent him through the door, but instead of the expected hard crunch of wood or tatami, his back met a surreal, watery surface—a liquid mirror that seemed to stretch into eternity.
He sat up, his eyes wide as he took in his surroundings.
The dojo wasn't at all what he expected; no wood, no mats, just a mirror-like pool extending wall-to-wall.
The ceiling above was an illusion of the night sky, each star a glowing gem, a celestial body shimmering with ethereal beauty.
Below, the water reflected this star-studded tapestry, a mirrored universe at his feet.
'What is this place? This can't be a dojo, can it?'
Curious, he touched the water.
It rippled with colors, a reflection disturbed, yet his hand felt nothing—no wetness, no moisture.
It was water, but not water.
