But then everything stopped.

"Who was that man?" She talked to herself and then walked away.

Elysia stopped for a moment, adjusting her cloak and glancing around the street.

"This place... it’s too quiet," she murmured.

For a brief second, she thought she saw movement—a shadow darting behind a stall.

But when she looked again, nothing was there.

She sighed, trying to calm the unease rising in her chest.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a faint warm glow flickering at the end of the street.

Curiosity tugged at her.

She walked toward it slowly.

As the mist cleared, a shop came into view. The building was small, crooked, with wooden signs swinging above the door.

The sign read:

Elysia blinked. "There is... also a shop here?" she whispered to herself, completely bewildered.

The door creaked slightly as she pushed it open.

A faint chime rang above her head—an ordinary sound that somehow felt deeply out of place in this city.

At the counter sat an old man with a long gray beard.

His eyes were clouded, yet oddly sharp when they focused on her. He wore layered robes that shimmered faintly like starlight caught in dust.

As soon as she entered, he smiled faintly.

"Well, what brings you here, young and beautiful lady?" the old man said.

Elysia stiffened. (What is this?) she thought.

"I just... saw the shop from outside," she said.

"I didn’t expect anyone to still live in this place."

The old man chuckled softly, resting his elbow on the counter.

"Live? Ah, that depends on how you define living. Some souls are bound to a place, long after their time has ended."

Elysia frowned. "Bound?"

"Tell me," he said, "do you come here to buy... or to remember?"

She hesitated, not knowing how to respond.

Finally, she asked, "What do you have?"

The old man leaned back slightly, stroking his beard. "Well... that depends on what you’re willing to pay. I do not take ordinary money here. Do you, by any chance, have any ancient coins?"

"Ancient coins?" she repeated, confused. "What is even that?"

He smiled again. "Ah, then you are not one of them yet."

"One of them?"

He didn’t answer.

Instead, his gaze seemed to pierce through her, as if reading something beyond her flesh—something inside her soul.

"If you do not possess the coin, then you are not meant to stay."

"What coin are you talking about?" Elysia shouted, stepping closer.

"Ancient coins," he said quietly. "Every traveler in Graylight must trade a memory to enter... or to leave."

Elysia froze. "Trade... an ancient coin?"

"What do you do with them and how do I get them?" she asked.

"Yes. That’s the law of this city. But you... you have entered without paying. That is not allowed."

Elysia instinctively reached for her sword, but before she could move—

"Then," the old man whispered, "you must leave."

A sudden gust of wind rushed through the shop, knocking over bottles and parchment.

Elysia raised her arm to shield her face.

The world around her blurred like melting paint—walls bending, shelves twisting—and within seconds, the shop vanished entirely.

When the wind stopped, Elysia found herself standing once again at the entrance of Graylight City.

The gate loomed before her, cracked and ancient, and behind her stretched the same mist-covered street she had entered earlier.

Her heart raced. "What just happened?"

She blinked in disbelief, looking around.

Everything looked normal.

She touched her forehead; there was no pain, no mark.

She frowned deeply. "Did I... just imagine that?"

Then she looked down at her wristwatch.

Only two minutes had passed.

She froze. "Two minutes?" she whispered. "But... I swear I spent at least an hour inside that weird place."

The second hand of her watch ticked steadily, mocking her disbelief. She clenched her fist, frustration bubbling inside.

(What kind of illusion was that?)

For a moment, she thought she heard the faint echo of the old man’s voice.

"Every traveler must trade a coin..."

She shook her head quickly. "No... I’m not losing my mind. Not now."

Taking a deep breath, she turned toward the gate where she saw Cecelia waiting.

"Cecelia?" she called softly.

Cecelia looked up immediately. "Elysia?" She hurried toward her, eyes scanning her from head to toe.

"You look unharmed," she said. "You were gone in a few minutes."

"Nothing happened to me," Elysia replied, forcing a small smile.

She didn’t want to worry her friend, nor did she know how to explain what she just saw.

Cecelia’s brows furrowed. "Did you find anything inside?"

"I—" Elysia hesitated. For a moment, she thought about telling her everything: the shop, the strange man, the talk of coins and memories.

But something inside warned her to stay silent.

The shop might not even exist in this reality anymore.

(Leave it... I’ll find out for myself,) she thought.

Cecelia tilted her head. "Do you what?"

Elysia blinked, caught off guard. "Oh—uh—nothing," she said quickly.

Then she forced a casual smile. "You were waiting outside till now, right?"

Cecelia folded her arms. "Yes. I didn’t move an inch. I was worried you might scream or something... but you were so quiet in there, I thought maybe you’d fainted."

"Ah, no. I’m fine." Elysia lied, glancing away.

Cecelia studied her for a moment. "You sure? You look... pale."

"I just need some air," Elysia replied softly, exhaling deeply.

The two of them stood there for a while, the sound of distant thunder echoing faintly beyond the ruined walls.

Finally,. "Did you see Jin or Edwin?"

"No. But I felt... something. Like the city itself was watching me."

Cecelia looked uneasy. "We should regroup. This place—it’s not just cursed. It’s... wrong. Like time and space don’t work properly here."

Elysia nodded slowly. "You’re right."

She glanced back at the entrance, her thoughts still swirling around the mysterious shop.

She couldn’t shake the image of the old man’s eyes—how ancient they looked, how they seemed to see through her.

(He said I wasn’t supposed to be there... but why? And what did he mean by ’coin"?)