In the Elf Forest, that green barrier still stood.
The elf elder stood atop the tallest tree canopy, both hands pressed against the trunk. Green light poured from her palms, spreading along the grain of the wood and reinforcing the edges of the barrier.
Several young elves stood behind her, longbows in hand and arrows nocked.
"On the other side is a Goblin World."
A young elf spoke. "Elder, should we attack?"
The elder did not turn around.
"Watch for now. Wait for the other races to move first. They are more anxious than we are, because they are closer."
"Our elf race has too few people. We cannot afford to take such risks."
The young elf did not ask again. The green barrier shimmered beneath the sunlight, like a membrane that could never be pierced.
In the wilderness of the Source Realm, several goblins crouched beneath a withered tree, looking up at the projection in the sky.
They saw the cities of the Goblin World. They saw their neatly dressed kin, their kin working in the fields, and their kin bustling about in factories.
They saw flesh on their kin's faces, clothes on their bodies, and light in their eyes.
A little goblin tugged at the old goblin beside him, making indistinct sounds.
The old goblin did not answer. He merely looked up, the projection reflected in his gray eyes.
His lips moved a few times, but no sound came out. He took the little goblin's hand and gripped it tightly.
The two goblins crouched beneath the dead tree, watching the increasingly clear world in the sky and waiting for it to descend.
At the same time, a Black Star sped through the void.
Its surface was gray-black and uneven, like a meteorite weathered for thousands of years.
But