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You don't hesitate, and push the black door. Instantly, you are suckled.
Things are very dark - but not an oppressive kind of darkness. More like the cozy, comfortable darkness of the starry night you are in.
There seems to be <span class="mu-s">nothing</span> around you, although you can smell sample amounts of Space energy - surely treasures, but far away ones.
There is, however, a few most pressing matters. First is the itchiness : you feel like a sand-charged windstorm scraped every inch of your skin, making your eyes, nose and lips especially painful (and so are your nether regions). Each tear you shed is immediately turned into a small cloud of ice shards, scraping your eyeballs further.
Second, you feel like your lung grew a few size, ripping partially inside your sternum. This draw a hiccup of pain, and instantly all the breath of your chest is drawn out and lost in the void of the eldritch place.
That bring you to the realisation of the third problem : a complete lack of breathable air nearby. You start panicking. Go back! Go back!
Alas, you're unable to will yourself out of the mysterious realm. Ironic : by improving your Astral travel to let your true self move with your Astral Self, you made several place much more dangerous.
Out of air, you start choking. But your nose skill still works : a treasure, floating in the ether, cross right in front of you. Your hands clutch the prize as you fall unconscious.
<span class="mu-i">A couple minutes earlier</span>
Sin Din : <span class="mu-b">Ryota! stop! Quiet Word disappeared!</span>
Ryota : <span class="mu-s">Did he fall? ... Can't feel his energy...</span>
Sin Din : <span class="mu-b">He was there, meditating, and he just popped away!</span>
Ryota : <span class="mu-s">It must be his complete Astral Travel skill. We'll circle around... There! That was a short trip.</span>
You take a deep breath while winds are scratching at your plummeting face. You blink. Twice. The floor is coming awfully close dreadfully fast.
You materialize your <span class="mu-s">Ascended Phoenix</span> wings in the hope to slow your fall. But with your head lower than your legs, the furled wing are actually increasing your stoop's speed.
You open your whole wingspan, trying to avoid the disaster. Your body redresses from vertical to horizontal.
Then you hit the ground hard enough to snuff your consciousness out a second time today.
You are pain shaped in human form. Breathing is hard and hurts. The wind brushing your skin hurts. Each and every jolt of your bed hurts.
Why is your bed jolting in the first place? Your eyes open again, this time in Ryota's cart.
The rest of the trip back home is uneventfully painful to say the least.
At least you have plenty of time to gaze at your prize, even in that sorry state of yours.
