Death Guns In Another World

The following morning greeted Saeko with golden light spilling through her window and the gentle whisper of wind playing with the wind chime she’d hung the night before. Its soft, melodic tinkling was the first sound she heard, a peaceful reminder that this day, too, belonged to her.

No looming shadows. No blood to spill. Just one more day to breathe.

She dressed in a simple tunic and travel boots, leaving her armor and cloak behind. Only her katana remained strapped to her back—not as a warning, but as a part of who she was. It gave her a quiet comfort.

Today, she would finish exploring Rivermere. Not to scout or prepare for danger. But to experience.

Saeko began with the Artisan District, following the winding cobblestone path past the outer market. This section of the city was more secluded, hidden behind vine-covered archways and iron gates left open for those who sought it. The air here smelled of paint, wet clay, and freshly shaved wood.

She wandered slowly.

A sculptor carved the face of a serene goddess into marble, the chisel in his hand dancing as if guided by something beyond him. Saeko stopped to watch for several minutes, marveling at how the cold stone slowly turned soft beneath his hands, taking on expression and form.

At the corner of a workshop, a teenage girl painted vivid murals of floating islands on the sides of crates. Saeko caught her eye and smiled, and the girl returned it shyly, her brush never stopping.

She continued on, stepping into a leatherworker’s shop. Inside, a middle-aged woman stitched intricate patterns into a pair of gloves, the design resembling feathers—reminiscent of wind in motion. When Saeko commented on it, the woman grinned.

“My daughter says the wind is a spirit,” she said. “I like that. Gives it personality.”

Saeko left with a pair of soft bracers she hadn’t intended to buy. But they felt right—like something meant for her, stitched with care.

As the sun rose higher, Saeko found herself drawn to the famed Bathhouse of Silver Veils, tucked along a quiet road near the eastern walls. She’d heard about it from a merchant—an old sanctuary built over natural hot springs, said to soothe both body and soul.

Inside, white steam coiled through marble halls and the scent of lavender and eucalyptus lingered in the air. Soft-voiced attendants offered her a towel and a seat by the springs. The water was hot, crystal clear, with white stones lining the bottom like fallen stars.

Saeko slipped in slowly.

The heat hugged her body, sinking into sore muscles and hidden tension she hadn’t realized she carried. Her eyes closed, and she leaned back against the stone, her hair floating like silk in the water.

She didn’t think.

She didn’t need to.

There was no past to fight. No future to fear.

Only warmth, and water, and breath.

And when she finally emerged, skin flushed and heart lightened, it felt like shedding a layer of herself she no longer needed.

Later, as the bells of Rivermere rang for afternoon prayer, Saeko wandered through winding alleys toward a temple she had glimpsed the day before—The Temple of the Winds. It wasn’t grand or ostentatious. In fact, it barely looked like a temple at all. Built from pale stone and open to the sky, it stood quiet atop a hill, half-hidden by willow trees.

Inside, there were no idols. No incense. Just wind-chimes hanging from tall poles, each with a different tone. When the wind blew, the temple sang.

A monk sat in the center of the courtyard, meditating. He opened one eye when she entered and offered a small bow.

“You walk with the wind,” he said softly.

Saeko hesitated. “How did you—?”

“It speaks. Not to many, but to those who listen.”

She said nothing, only bowed in return. She sat beside him, letting the silence stretch between them.

Time passed. And as the chimes sang in harmony with the breeze, Saeko found something she hadn’t sought: stillness.

Before leaving, she offered a small gift—her old armguard, worn and scratched from dozens of battles.

“For the wind to remember,” she murmured.

The monk smiled, saying nothing.

As dusk approached, she walked the Moonrise Promenade—a long walkway that wrapped around Rivermere’s northern cliffs. Below it, the river carved through the land, glistening in the twilight. Lanterns lined the path, lit one by one by quiet workers in navy robes.

Couples strolled, children pointed at distant stars, musicians played soft melodies on flutes and harps. Saeko walked alone, but she did not feel lonely.

Each step on the path echoed differently than the last.

She stopped at a railing and looked out at the horizon. The moon had begun to rise, enormous and golden, casting a soft glow on the water.

A boy near her pointed up. “That’s a hunter’s moon,” he told his sister. “It means someone is chasing their dream tonight.”

Saeko smiled faintly.

Maybe she was.

Nightfall

She returned to her inn with aching feet, a full stomach from a roasted mushroom skewer she’d bought on the street, and a soul that felt strangely… open.

That night, she sat at her desk by the window, to observe the scenery below, enjoying it for a moment before preparing to sleep.

Tomorrow, she would return to her base. Return to the mission. But today would remain etched within her—an unspoken promise between her and this city of breathing stone.

Rivermere had given her more than rest.

It had reminded her that she must keep working hard and enjoy life with his loved ones.

”I wonder how the others are doing?” she couldn’t help but remember the others, after being forcibly drawn into the portal and arrived here, each were sent into a different location. Naturally, she was the most curious about her man, he was the most injured among them. Thinking about Alex, she felt emotions stirring up. She silently prayed for his safety and for them to meet soon.