Out of the corner of Nero’s eye, he spots something... a green door. It clearly wasn’t there a moment ago, and looked eerily out of place amongst everything else in the garage. And as the boy would draw close to it... the doors would open.

And a great force would begin to suck Nero inside of it.

Momentarily thrust through another space, he’s shunted through yet another door— this one with fog for as long as he can see... and the inevitable green of the Ophiuchus’ tree top, which Nero would find himself landing on shortly after a small fall. And from where he fell, a voice would ring out... a familiarly boisterous one.

“Hello there~ looks you’re doing well,” Okina calls out, looking down upon Nero with a grin. Brilliant flames of magic burn at her back, each a different unusual color, as the god floats while brimming with extraordinary magical power. 

“Enjoying what the mist has to offer us? I know I have.”

“For others, I’ve heard this fog is quite stifling— and yet for myself, it’s been rather... freeing. What of you? I should hope for the latter, in your case.”