When Doraemon and Nobita Nobi crawled out of the comfortable "tent," rubbed their sleepy eyes, and fully woke up, the sky was already bright.
Gentle sunlight spilled across this prehistoric land, dispelling the night's chill and the last traces of hazy mist, illuminating the lush surrounding fern forest with crystal clarity.
The air was fresh, carrying the distinctive fragrance of plants and soil. Occasionally, unknown birds flapped overhead, letting out clear, chirping calls.
But the grand feast from last night had already vanished.
At the center of the camp, the bonfire had become nothing more than a small pile of gray-white ashes resting on the cleared ground.
The enormous tables that had been laden with dazzling, mouthwatering delicacies were gone. The plates and wineglasses had vanished without a trace as well, as though they had never existed.
The rich, complex aromas of countless foods that had once been enough to captivate the soul had completely dispersed, replaced by the freshness of grass and trees, the faint earthy scent of soil, and the smell of sunlight.
As far as the eye could see, aside from the Tent Capsule, the Gourmet Tablecloth Doraemon had prepared last night, and the modified stone, the camp seemed empty and quiet.
The crowd that had gathered there last night had already left as well.
"It's... over already."
Nobita Nobi gazed at the empty camp before him. The scenes from last night still seemed right in front of him, yet an inexplicable sense of emptiness rose in his heart.
It was like suddenly waking from an extraordinarily lively dream, leaving behind only the unreal feeling of a room filled with silence and sunlight.
The ultimate flavors from last night, the dazzling starry sky, everyone's smiles—everything was as vivid as though it had just happened, yet as distant