Something pressed against her skull—not a hand, not a voice, but something worse. A presence. The air thickened, her chest tightening as if something was wrapping around her ribs. Her breath came in sharp, shallow bursts. Her instincts screamed, her body telling her to move, run, fight—

  But she couldn't.

  The alley around her blurred, the world tilting on its axis. The last thing she saw was the man’s lips curling into something that wasn’t a smile—it was hunger.

  And then—darkness.

  Her mind was bursting through her memories until it stopped.

  “Where am I?”

  The words slipped out before I could think. I looked around, my small hands trembling at my sides. A kitchen. The space was familiar, yet it felt... distant, like a fading dream I couldn’t grasp. The dining table loomed above me, its polished wood gleaming under the morning light filtering through the window. My fingers barely reached the edges. I blinked.

  “This is my house.”

  Recognition hit like a whisper from the past. This was where I grew up—a home nestled in the outskirts of Vonx. The village was small, surrounded by the embrace of low mountains that shielded us from the harsher winds. The fields stretched endlessly, golden and swaying, a sea of crops that fed the people who toiled under the sun. There was no river nearby, yet life thrived.

  My bare feet pattered against the wooden floor as I wandered into the long hallway. My heart pounded as I caught sight of a tall mirror at the end of the corridor. I stepped closer, hesitating.

  The reflection staring back at me wasn’t mine—at least, not the one I had come to know. A child. Small, fragile. My dark hair, shorter than I remembered, barely brushing my shoulders. My crimson eyes, wide and untainted by the weight of years. I lifted my hands, watching them tremble as they reached out toward the glass.

  A voice. Footsteps.

  “Rose! It’s time for breakfast. What are you doing?”

  I turned sharply, eyes landing on the woman standing at the door. My breath hitched.

  Mother.

  Her warm smile was the same as I remembered. The gentle curve of her lips, the way her soft brown eyes crinkled at the corners. My legs moved before I could think, carrying me forward. I collided into her, my small arms wrapping around her waist, squeezing as if she would disappear the moment I let go.

  She stiffened. “Did you get hurt?”

  “No,” I choked out.

  She pulled back slightly, looking down at me, confused but amused. “We need to go,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

  She tilted her head. “Where do you want to go?”

  “Far away. To Lennox.” I pointed toward the door, urgency clawing at my chest.

  She laughed lightly. “You should ask your father then.”

  “No!” My grip tightened. “We need to go right now!”

  A deafening boom shook the house.

  Mother flinched. “What was that?”

  She gently pried me off, stepping toward the window. My tiny legs scrambled after her. Outside, the world shifted.

  Our neighbor’s house had collapsed.

  The roof lay in shambles, a massive rock crushing its structure. The walls crumbled like dried leaves. Dust choked the air. My mother gasped, pushing the door open, and I stumbled after her into the chaos.

  Father was running toward us, breathless, panic laced in his eyes.

  “Are you okay?” he gasped, scanning our faces.

  “Yeah. We’re fine,” Mother answered, though uncertainty laced her voice.

  I barely heard them. My gaze lifted to the sky, catching a glimpse of something unnatural. A flicker of light—then a man.

  Floating.

  His coat billowed weightlessly, as if gravity had no hold on him. Scars ran across his arms and face, remnants of battles fought long before this moment. The air around him crackled with an unseen force.

  Another sharp crack echoed through the village.

  The neighbor’s house collapsed entirely, sending debris scattering like splintered bones. Survivors scrambled out, coughing, dazed but alive. Relief flooded through me, but it was fleeting.

  I know what happens next.

  Terror took root in my stomach. I turned, grabbing my father’s sleeve, tugging desperately.

  “Father! Mother! We need to leave!”

  He looked down, confusion flickering across his face. “What’s wrong, Rose?”

  The rubble shifted. Then, from within the wreckage, something moved.

  A man.

  Dust swirled around him as he emerged, his silhouette cutting through the morning haze. His clothes were torn, his body streaked with blood—fresh and dark against his skin. The metallic scent filled my nose.

  His presence was suffocating.

  The floating man’s expression twisted into something unreadable. “Why don’t you give up?” he asked.

  “There’s no way I will.” The bloodied man’s voice was hoarse but unwavering.

  Then he turned.

  Our eyes met.

  Before I could scream, he was in front of me. His hands locked around my arms, lifting me effortlessly.

  I thrashed, kicked, screamed. But my strength was nothing to him.

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  “NO!” Mother’s voice broke into a desperate wail. “Please! Leave her alone!”

  The floating man—Vulcan—descended swiftly, fury burning in his gaze.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he growled.

  The man holding me tightened his grip, shifting toward the village well. My stomach lurched.

  I know what happens next.

  “If you come near me, I’ll kill her,” the man sneered, dragging me closer to the edge.

  Mother sobbed. “No, please! Let her go!”

  Father lunged.

  The man dropped me.

  The air rushed past, the world tilting as I plummeted. The dry well yawned below, its bottom obscured by shadow.

  Above, steel glinted.

  The man stabbed my father.

  Mother’s scream shattered the world.

  For a moment, I thought that was it. That I was going to die in the cold embrace of the earth. But then—

  A force. A sudden, crushing impact. Arms wrapping around me.

  Vulcan.

  He had leapt down, catching me before the fall could claim me. The moment my feet touched solid ground again, I collapsed.

  My knees hit the dirt. My hands pressed against the blood-soaked soil.

  I lifted my head. The man had ran away.

  My parents lay before me, lifeless. Their bodies motionless, their blood seeping into the earth.

  Something in me shattered.

  I screamed. I wailed. My small hands clawed at them, begging them to wake up.

  They didn’t.

  They never would.

  And in that moment, in that horrible, endless moment—I understood what it meant to lose everything.

  **

  Shinjiro’s breath hitched as his consciousness stirred. His body felt weighed down, his limbs stiff, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. The warmth of the infirmary should have been comforting, but something felt… wrong.

  He slowly blinked his eyes open, only to be met with a dimly lit ceiling. The wooden beams above seemed warped in the flickering candlelight. Shadows stretched unnaturally long, crawling across the walls like living things. His pulse quickened.

  A deep breath. Something metallic lingered in the air, mixed with the familiar scent of dried herbs and medicine. But there was another scent—something faint, something cold. It clung to his skin like the remnants of a nightmare.

  Shinjiro forced himself upright, a sharp ache radiating through his body. He pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to steady himself. His vision adjusted to the dim glow of the room, and that’s when he noticed it.

  Through the gaps of the infirmary’s wooden shutters, a deep, unsettling red bled through.

  The moon.

  His body tensed instinctively. The air felt different—heavy, unnatural. The soft hum of night insects was absent, the world outside eerily quiet. It wasn’t just any night. The blood moon hung over the sky like an omen.

  His stomach twisted.

  A voice broke the silence.

  Physician: You’re awake.

  Shinjiro turned toward the old physician, who sat on a stool near the far table, grinding something in a stone mortar. His movements were slow, deliberate, but there was something in his expression that wasn’t there before—concern.

  Shinjiro: (groggy) What… happened?

  Physician: You collapsed. Your body is adjusting to the aether.

  Shinjiro frowned, shifting his legs over the side of the bed. His muscles still ached, but his mind was waking up fast.

  Shinjiro: (quietly) What’s going on?

  The old man exhaled, setting his tools aside before rubbing his temples.

  Physician: It’s an eclipse.

  Shinjiro: Where is everyone else?

  Physician: They left for Asfal

  Shinjiro: They left me behind.

  He stood up all of a sudden.

  Physican: The girl—Rose. She was here. She waited for you to wake up, but she left a while ago.

  Shinjiro: (sharper now) Where?

  Physician: She was wandering through town.

  The words sat heavy between them. Shinjiro didn’t like the way the physician’s voice lowered at the end.

  Shinjiro: And?

  The physician finally looked at him, his deep-set eyes holding something close to worry.

  Physician: I don’t know what she was looking for, but I have a bad feeling about tonight. The air is thick… and the people, they feel it too.

  Shinjiro listened carefully, his fingers clenching the blanket beneath him.

  Physician: No one says it outright, but they know something is wrong. Animals are restless—some have dropped dead for no reason. The storms passed, but the air hasn’t cleared. People whisper about a killer in the streets. And now?

  The old man motioned toward the shutters. The deep red glow still leaked through.

  Physician: The blood moon is watching.

  A slow chill ran down Shinjiro’s spine.

  Physician: I would call her back, but it’s not dangerous. Not yet. Still… I don’t like it.

  Shinjiro stood, ignoring the stiffness in his legs. He reached for his coat and pulled it over his shoulders.

  Shinjiro: (lowly) I’ll go find her.

  Physician: (watching him carefully) Be careful, boy.

  Shinjiro nodded once before stepping outside.

  The town was not the same.

  A deep crimson glow bathed the streets in eerie light, casting long, distorted shadows. The cobblestones were slick with lingering rain, puddles reflecting the ominous sky above. The usual noise—the distant chatter, the merchants calling, the laughter of drunks—was replaced with murmurs. Whispers from behind shuttered windows.

  People felt it.

  The air was suffocating, pressing down on his chest with an unseen weight. His footsteps echoed a little too loudly in the silence as he made his way down the empty streets.

  Shinjiro’s eyes darkened. His grip tightened around the edges of his coat.

  Something wasn’t right.

  And he needed to find Rose. Now.

  Rose was trapped.

  It didn’t feel like a dream. It felt real—too real.

  She was sitting and crying in her parents blood for hours. Time was not passing. No one seemed to be coming for help.

  And she jumped in time.

  “We need to go”, I said

  She tilted her head. “Where do you want to go?”

  “Far away. To Lennox.” I pointed toward the door, urgency clawing at my chest.

  Then I realised it was happening again. I tried to run away.

  “Where are you going?”, my mother said

  Boom

  The village, the sky, the faces, the blood. It was all happening again.

  She stood in front of her childhood home, watching her younger self run down the hall. The same scene. The same laughter, the same warm sunlight spilling through the windows. A perfect memory—until it wasn’t.

  Boom.

  The walls trembled.

  No.

  Rose knew what came next. She knew every sound, every scream, every death.

  She turned, already knowing what she would see. The collapsing house. The floating man. The scent of blood.

  Her father’s desperate voice.

  Her mother’s trembling hands.

  The sky cracking open with a blinding light, and then—

  Him.

  The man who took everything. His bloodstained hands, his cold, merciless eyes. His voice rang in her ears, mocking her, the same words echoing like a curse.

  “You should’ve died instead.”

  “No.”

  She tried to move, but her body wouldn’t listen. She was frozen, forced to relive it.

  Again.

  And again.

  And again.

  Her younger self screamed.

  Her father lunged.

  The dagger plunged into his chest.

  Her mother’s sobs tore through the air.

  The world shattered around her, only to reset.

  Rose gasped, now standing at the well.

  Her small hands gripped the stone edge. The shadow loomed over her. The fall was coming. She knew it. She tried to step away, tried to turn, but—

  Hands grabbed her.

  She was falling.

  Falling—

  Falling—

  “No!!”

  The cycle snapped back.

  She was back in front of her house.

  Again.

  Rose: (panting) Stop… please stop…

  Her throat was raw. How many times had she screamed?

  Her vision blurred. Her hands trembled. The man who took everything from her, who killer her parents began whispering.

  It coiled around her, creeping into her mind, into her bones, wrapping around her heart like a serpent. It was cold—colder than death.

  Man: You can’t stop it.

  Rose: No…

  Man: You can’t change it.

  Rose: Please…..

  Man: You are weak.

  Her breath hitched.

  Man: They screamed for you. Cried for you. And what did you do? You fell. You lived. You ran.

  Rose: (clutching her head) Stop it…

  Man: No one came for you. Not then. Not now. No one ever will.

  The weight of the words pressed down on her, suffocating, pulling her deeper. It seemed to never end.

  Rose: I tried. I tried to save them.

  Man: And you failed.

  The cycle began anew.

  The house. The man. The screams.

  Rose: No…

  Man: Stay here. Relive it forever. This is where you belong.

  Then—

  Through the chaos. Through the endless loop.

  A voice.

  Faint at first. Muffled. Distant.

  Shinjiro: (muffled) Rose…

  Her breath hitched.

  Shinjiro: (louder now) Rose!

  The world flickered.

  Shinjiro: ROSE!

  Then—

  CRACK.

  The sky splintered. A crack ran through the air itself, like glass breaking. The false world trembled, shaking apart at the seams.

  And through the fractures of her nightmare—she saw him.

  .