The hiking trail twisted before me, turni and right through the Bck Forest, but I couldn’t foy surroundings. Pai my chest, a sharp reminder of the grief I carried. I rubbed my chest again, the skin raw, and the sting anchored me to the moment, even as my mind drifted. I shook my head.

  Snap out of it! You’re here to get out of your head, not drown in it.

  It was the beginning of September, and the leaves were ging—gold and e breaking through the green. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, highlighting the dust motes in the air. Birds chirped all around, their sounds boung off the trees. The forest was so peaceful, but it didn’t ease the vise crushing my chest.

  I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the tears. Swallowing, I forced myself to focus on specific things to anyself in the present: the sound of the gravel under my boots; air filling my lungs; moisture ging to my skin; the smell of the woods—evergreens, wet soil, and moss; birdsong; and the colors. But it didn’t help. It never helped. Every step was heavier tha, dragging me bato painful memories.

  The wind whispered through the branches, brushing my skin as a few leaves drifted down, surrendering to gravity. My tears fell with them as I gritted my teeth. The forest was beautiful but couldn’t pull me out of my head. I months, I traveled through Europe, losing myself among the crowds iies and taking long hikes, hoping nature would force me out of my grief. Or at least make it more bearable.

  Each step pressed me deeper into the earth. Leaning against a tree, I breathed in ragged gasps as the tightening in my chest refused to ease. The forest was quiet, except for the soft rustle of the leaves, the birds and hikers in the distance.

  “I miss you,” I whispered to the wind. “I was so lost before I met you, and now I’m lost again.”

  I pushed off the tree a walking, hoping the ache would stay buried. But grief never pyed by my rules. At 37 years old, my life was crumbling before my eyes. I didn’t belong—not in this world or my skin. I always stood out: too small, to, too fast, and looking ten years youhan my actual age. But she had never flinched or cared about how people stared or whispered behind my back. She saw past all of it, saw me. Without her, the world had lost its warmth, a pce where I no longer fit. Each step and breath only deepehe sehat I was drifting through someone else’s life, a stranger in my own skin, adrift and disected from humanity.

  As I walked, my boots ched over the gravel, but my mi drifting back to the hospital. It was just another building now, cold ay. I kicked a loose stone off the path, watg it tumble into the underbrush. I’d stayed there so she could patch things up with her father after our marriage wrecked their retionship. But now, it was just four walls filled with memories I didn’t want to revisit.

  My steps slowed, and I ran a hand over my chest, the raw skin burning. I loved medie. Loved being a doctor. Not the people—I never really trusted them—but the work. Fixing someone and seeing them walk out healthier because of me. That made se made me valuable. It validated my existend gave it meaning.

  I stopped to tighterap on my backpack, thinking of the money. Maybe it was more important than it should’ve been, but growing up in foster care did that to you. You needed something solid, something you could t on. Money is something tangible, something you point at and say: What I do has value; here is the proof.

  But even that was slipping away. Every email I sent came back with a polite reje, and whenever I got close, someone dropped my name like a poison pill. My father-in-w’s reach was wider than I ever imagined. His work stretched across the try, and he used it to cut me off, to ensure I had no p the field I’d worked so hard to be part of.

  Maybe I should move to Europe or Australia? I heard they needed doctors. I want, NO, I need a fresh start somewhere without the weight of the past.

  Suddenly, a presence, or an awareness, ya me. There was no sight or sound to annou, but it still called to me. A subtle force—like an invisible thread winding through the air, tugging me gently toward an unseen pce just beyond the edges of my perception. I froze mid-step, my breath catg as I sed the surrounding forest. The sounds of the Bck Forest filled the air—birds chirping, leaves rustling in the breeze—but nothing stood out. Nothing was around, just the derees and a few distant hikers further up the trail, ughing. Yet, the feeling ersistent, refusing to be ignored. It almost shouted at me to pay attention.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head, but it was like a soft hum that wouldn’t fade, a e to something at the periphery of my awareness. After standing still, debating with myself, I gave in. I couldn’t ig anymore. My feet moved before I sciously decided, pulling me off the trail. A gnce over my shoulder showed I had walked farther from town than I’d realized, lost in my thoughts. But I wasn’t too far—I could hear the faint voices of other hikers behind me or further ahead.

  The feeling came from my right, deep in the woods. I hesitated, gng at the dense underbrush. It wasn’t too thick, but still challenging to navigate. Yeah, I could push through. With o look at the trail, I stepped off it and into the trees.

  Twenty minutes of fighting through tangled roots, bushes, and low-hanging branches brought me to ahat looked exactly like any other part of the forest: tall trees, underbrush thick with ferns, and two huge boulders on a slight ine. Yet, the sensation here was stronger. Pulling me. Urgio act. Almost shouting at me without sound. It was the po doubt about it, but there was nothing there.

  The pull grew more insistent, pulling me forward. Moving slowly, I ducked under a low-hanging brand approached the rger of the two boulders. It was just a big stou the earth, rough and cold to the touch. I walked around it to iigate, and the sensation became weaker, like a shout decreasing in volume. I paused, frowned, and tinued around the rock. The further I walked, the weaker the feeling became.

  I walked a few steps back, and the sensation intensified again. My brow furrowed in fusion. There was something here, but what?

  Curious, I returned in front of the boulders, and the feeliurned in full force. The same thing happened when I walked around the left-hand boulder—the feeling got weaker and theurned when I retraced my steps.

  What the hell am I doing?

  I sighed with a huff and turo leave, but the feeling got stronger—like an urgent call. It stopped me in my tracks. I looked at the boulders again and did o test: I walked between them. It felt like I walked through an invisible barrier, an energy field that I felt on my skin. The surrounding air felt charged, making the hairs on the bay neck stand on end. I got goosebumps all over and froze, trying to make sense of the sensation.

  A scream ripped from my throat as I colpsed to my khe world tilted on its axis as a ball of fire detonated in my skull. My head shattered—no, exploded—while my brain roasted alive ihe burning shell of my skull. I couldn’t draw in a breath. My vision swam. Spots danced in front of my eyes. My hands, my entire body, shook untrolbly. The fire raged, dev every part of me, as if it had doused my soul in fmes.

  And then it got worse. A line of fme went down from my head to my diaphragm. A sed ball of fire exploded. This one was much worse. The pain was sharper, burning me in two pces at once. I writhed on the ground, uo even muster the strength to scream. Every bit of energy I had went into one desperate task: staying alive. But it didn’t stop. Another line of fire snaked lower, trailing to my abdomen before exploding in another eruption of va. I burned.

  I ged my mind. Please let me die.

  That would be better—anything would be better. But the fire only grew hotter, stronger, pushing outward like it wao e every ine.

  Lines of fire shot down my arms and legs, eae an explosion of searing agony, as if my blood itself had turo liquid fmes. Lines of fire ignited in every finger, every toe. My eyes, nose, mouth and ears burned. My existeurned into nothing but fire. I wasn’t just in pain anymore—I ain. An inferno. A volo. A living embodiment of agony.

  I bcked out.

  I came to with a start, curled ial position, hugging my midriff. A sharp intake of breath brought the potent smell of earth to my nose. Anticipating the return of pain, I y still, brag for the fire to rush through me again. But the pain was gone—pletely gone.

  My body felt… good. Too good. No fire, no pain. The aches I had carried for years—gone. Slowly, I stretched, half-expeg something to hurt, but nothing happened. I felt different, whole. It was a shock—is this real? I hadn’t felt whole in years. Slowly, I shifted, sliding off my backpad rolling onto my back. My breath came out in a whoosh as I stretched. I relished the absence of pain, the unfamiliar wellness all over me. It was like having a new body.

  I quit my job to take care of my wife i days, too afraid to sleep in case she needed me. After she was gone, insomnia and nightmares kept me awake. I tried staying in our home, but every object dragged me deeper into memories, amplifying the grief until I felt like I was drowning. Old, buried memories from my childhood floated back up, adding to the pain and nightmares. I was emotionally battered and exhausted, with no way out. Sleep became a distant wish I could never fulfill.

  Now, I felt pletely rejuvenated. It felt like all the past year’s sleepless nights and the physical aional weight had been wiped away. Erased by the fmes. I felt good. Like I’d slept for days.

  When I opened my eyes, it was night but not dark. Above me, an enormous moon hung low in the sky. Its pale light bathed everything in a soft glow, making the world look ethereal.

  Wow!

  I looked left and saw a smaller moon.

  Wait, what?

  I sat up in shock, stari and right betweewo moons. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and noticed something blinking—a red light pulsing in the er of my vision, like a warning signal. I opened my eyes again—two moons. Closed them—blinking light. Shook my head vigorously. Still two moons and a blinking light. Ping myself didn’t help either.

  I’m losing my mind, I thought, rubbing my face.

  I opened my eyes again, and the two moons were still there, but now I noticed the red light, even with my eyes open, pulsing just at the edge of my vision. I reached out, trying to touch it, but my fiouched nothing but air. The light didn’t shift or react. It stayed where it was, only moving when I moved my head—always in the same spot in my field of vision, like it was attached to me somehow.

  I focused on it and tried to mentally. Words appeared before my eyes almost immediately, like a virtual dispy ing to life.

  Irait detected [Gate Traveler]

  Huh?!

  The text disappeared, and a new line appeared.

  No Css or Professioed

  “What do you mean, no professioed?” I shouted at the text box. “I’m a doctor, dammit! I heal people!”

  New Css unlockedGate TravelerWould you like to take the Css [Gate Traveler]?Y/N

  I’m definitely losing my mind.

  But what the hell—since I had nothing to lose, I mentally tapped YES. Almost instantly, an immense pressure built in my head, like a balloon about to explode from too much water. Before I could react, everythi bck.

  When I came to this time, it was light. I squinted and rubbed my eyes, closed them again, and breathed. When I opehem for the sed time, the light hurt less.

  M?

  I sat up slowly and looked at the sky—one sun.

  Good! No more shocks.

  I examined myself, expeg some ge again, but there was none. Physically, I felt the same: no aches, no pain, just a strange sense of calm. My head also felt the same. The overfull balloon feeling disappeared entirely.

  So what happehe sed time I bcked out?

  I closed my eyes and listeo my body. Something inside me did ge! There was a new awareness, a new feeling inside of me. As though I had ected to a part of myself that had always been there but cealed. Now, it revealed itself. It hummed softly, not with sound but with sensations. A quiet energy spread through me, filling every nook and y, every cell and vein, making me whole.

  For as long as I could remember, I had a feeling of emptiness inside me, as if a part of me was missing. It ate me up and made me feel inferior, useless, empty, disected, and broken. It made me feel uhered—like some part of me was floating in a void. I’d tried to fill it in so many ways. I studied to be a doctor to help people and fill the emptiness with benevole didn’t help. I read, listeo musid eveed to smoking pot, hoping it would ease that emptiness. But nothing ever worked. I was a hollow shell—missing an integral part of my being. For a fleeting moment, I eveertaihe notion that I was missing a soul, but my being alive put that worry to rest, at least partially.

  I’d always assumed it was because of my past—growing up without a father, losing my mom when I was young, boung around foster homes that never wanted me, and being different in a lot of small ways that together were a big enough differeo be noticed. But now I realized that emptiness wasn’t about family or anything else. It was about this. Whatever this thing was, it had been the missing piece all along. The feeling of emptiness I had carried with me all my life was gone. A pleasant presence was in its pce—like an embrace from within that enveloped me with inner warmth and peace. I had finally found my p the world, the anchor that ected me to the here and now. I was plete for the first time.

  I sat there, sav the sensation of being whole for the first time in my life. The world around me was quieter, brighter, and more ected to me. I finally fit in it. I belonged. No more drifting through life like a leaf in a river. I was firmly pnted in the here and now and had a p it. A pce that no one could shake or take away.

  The red blinking light was there again at the er of my eye, pulling me from my thoughts. With a mental nudge, I tapped it, and a ext scrolled ay vision:

  Css: Gate Traveler Level 0Gates to the level (1/1)Level up+1 to all traits, +5 free points, +1 ability pointCss: Gate Traveler Level 1Trait Points: 5Ability Points: 1Gates to the level (0/3)

  I stared at the text, trying to process it. My mouth hung open, and words tumbled in my head, but none made sense. Gate Traveler? I opened my mouth again, but nothing came out.

  What does it even mean?

  My stomach growled, and my mouth was dry. I rummaged through my backpack, relieved to find everything still there: two grano bars, a bottle of water, a book, my dead phone, and a jacket. No matter how many times I pressed the power button or shook the pho wouldn’t power on. Dead as a doornail. With a sigh, I focused on what I could trol, eating one of the grano bars and washing it down with the water. The simple act of eating grounded me and pulled me out of the mental spiral.

  As I sat there, my mind drifted back to what the text had said—Gate Traveler. It had to be ected to the stones I’d passed through. I gnced over my shoulder. Two massive boulders with ft tops stood behind me, like tree stumps made of stone. A shiver ran down my spine as the strange pull that had led me here popped bato my mind. The feeling was still present. It was fainter now, but still there, like an invisible e to the stones. But this time, there wasn’t a pull ency—just a quiet sense of “it’s here.”

  I go back?

  Standing, I hesitated momentarily before reag out to touch the sto was cool and rough beh my fingers. Like before, text appeared in front of my eyes:

  Traveler’s Gate #468217258Destinatioh/Gaia/TerraStatus: UedMana level: 3Teology level: LowThreat level: Humans—moderate. Other beings—very high.

  I dropped on my butt, staring at the text as my mind spun. A portal? To another world? No, back to Earth. My thoughts raced, jumping from oion to the .

  Mana level? What is that?

  Teology level low? Why low? Did that mean this pce had a lower teology level thah? Or was Earth the oh the lower tepared to here? Or retive to somewhere else entirely?

  The li me—other beings. My chest tightened, my heart pounding in my ears. Aliens. I could barely my head around it. Aliens are real? My breathing quied; panic crept in and threateo overwhelm me.

  No, no, no! Not now. I’m not going to lose it.

  Before I could spiral into hyperventition, I sprang to my feet, grabbed my backpack, and raced through the Gate back to Earth. Whatever this pce was, I wasn’t ready for it. I ime to process and think.