Part 2.1 — Impact and Introductions
Derpy hit the ground like the world had personally taken offense.
Dirt exploded up his nose.
His spine rang.
His brain did that thing where it tried to pretend he was fine for half a second—then immediately filed a complaint.
“Ow—ow—OW—”
Something landed beside him with a heavier thud.
Mia.
She yowled like she’d been personally betrayed by gravity.
Another shape slammed down a heartbeat later—Sphinx—rolling once, then coming up in a low crouch, fur puffed, eyes narrowed like he was about to fight the sky itself.
Derpy wheezed and tried to push himself up.
His wrists burned.
The yellow bracelets were hot—not sun-warmed plastic hot.
More like someone put a brand on your bones hot.
He sucked in a breath and looked around.
Fog.
Trees.
A campfire.
And a bunny girl with a sword who looked like she’d been forged out of exhaustion and stubbornness.
Her ears were upright, but not relaxed.
Her stance was ready.
Her eyes were locked on him like he was either a threat or a miracle.
Derpy’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Because what do you even say when your life just got thrown into a fantasy forest?
The bunny girl took one step forward.
“Don’t move,” she said.
Her voice wasn’t cruel.
It was controlled.
The kind of control you used when you were one bad second away from panic.
Derpy swallowed.
“I—okay,” he managed. “I’m not— I’m not trying to—”
His bracelets flared hotter.
He hissed and grabbed his wrists.
The bunny girl’s eyes flicked to the bracelets.
Then to the book.
Because the book was there.
The blank journal—Celica’s Embers—had landed beside him like it belonged.
It looked harmless.
It looked wrong.
Derpy’s throat went dry.
Mia pressed herself against his side, growling low.
Sphinx prowled a slow half-circle, tail lashing, his stare fixed on the bunny girl’s sword hand.
The bunny girl didn’t flinch.
But her grip shifted—subtle, protective.
Not just ready to strike.
Ready to shield.
Derpy forced himself to breathe.
“Hi,” he said, because his brain was useless. “I’m— I’m Derpy.”
The bunny girl’s ears twitched.
“Lenora,” she said.
Derpy nodded too fast. “Cool. Great. Lenora. Nice to meet you. Sorry about the—” He waved vaguely at the entire situation. “—falling out of the sky thing.”
Lenora didn’t smile.
But something in her expression softened anyway, like she’d been trying not to.
Then her gaze sharpened.
“You’re holding a Calamity,” she said.
Derpy blinked.
“A what?”
Lenora’s jaw tightened.
“A Calamity Book.”
Derpy stared at the journal like it might deny it.
It did not.
It just sat there.
Warm.
Patient.
Like a predator pretending to be paper.
Derpy swallowed.
“I didn’t— I mean, I—”
His bracelets spiked with heat.
He gasped.
The pain wasn’t just pain.
It was direction.
A pull.
A tug on his bones.
His body leaned before his mind agreed.
Lenora’s eyes widened.
“Hey—”
Derpy stumbled backward.
“No, no, no— I’m not doing this on purpose!” he snapped, panicked.
The bracelets burned again.
And his feet moved.
Toward the trees.
Toward the sound of water.
Lenora lunged.
Her hand caught his sleeve.
The moment she touched him, the bracelets flared like they hated her.
Derpy cried out.
Lenora yanked her hand back, shaking it like she’d touched a stove.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Those aren’t normal,” she muttered.
Derpy laughed once—sharp and humorless.
“Yeah, no kidding.”
The pull hit again.
Harder.
Derpy’s stomach dropped.
He ran. He didn’t move like a fighter.
He moved like someone being dragged.