There are certain expectations that even the most open-minded researchers develop when studying other realms. Adom was no exception. He'd spent decades poring over ancient texts, expedition journals, and the occasional rambling testimony from the few who'd visited the Fae Realm and returned with their sanity relatively intact.The historical facts were established enough: during the Primordial Age, when reality was more flexible and magic flowed freely between all living things, the Fae had walked the same earth as humans. They'd witnessed the great wars between dragons, phoenixes, umbra, and demons—civilizations so powerful they reshaped continents with their conflicts. As these ancient powers tore the world apart, the Fae made a collective decision that changed the fabric of existence itself.They left.Not in the conventional sense of migration, but by literally removing themselves from the common reality. Through rituals that combined the magic of thousands of Fae practitioners, they created their own dimension—a realm entirely separate yet still tethered to the original world by thin threads of reality.The spell was so massive that its aftershocks reverberated through existence, creating ripples in the dimensional fabric. These ripples became tears, and these tears became dungeons—self-contained ecosystems existing between realities, following their own rules of physics and magic.Any seasoned adventurer could tell you no two dungeons were quite the same, and now Adom understood why. They were fragments of a spell weaved by beings who'd decided reality itself wasn't quite to their liking.So yes, Adom had certain expectations upon entering the Fae Realm. He'd anticipated the impossible architecture, the colors beyond the human spectrum, the strange flora and fauna. He'd mentally prepared for the way time might flow differently here, for the potential dangers of eating or drinking anything not approved by Bob.He'd (...)