Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMC98FR4CM1BEMH5B3QS0Y

Rory's boots crunched on the gravel path as she entered the moonlit grove, the ancient standing stones casting long shadows across the clearing. Isolde's grove in Richmond Park had always been a place of refuge for her, a secret haven she stumbled upon during one of her many aimless wanderings after moving to London. But tonight, something felt different. The air was thick and heavy, an unsettling stillness hanging over the wildflowers that bloomed year-round, their colors muted in the pale light. She reached up, her fingers brushing against the deep crimson gemstone that hung around her neck. The Heartstone pendant pulsed faintly with warmth, as if sensing the strange energy that crackled in the atmosphere. A gift from an unknown benefactor, she had quickly learned that its strange behavior often heralded the presence of forces beyond her understanding. As she ventured deeper into the grove, the feeling of unease only intensified. The shadows seemed to writhe and twist, and she could have sworn she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. But whenever she turned to look, there was nothing there. Just the silent stones, the ghostly flowers, and the silver moonlight. "Get a grip, Carter," she muttered to herself, her voice sounding oddly flat in the still air. "There's no one here but you and the squirrels." But even as she spoke the words, she knew they were a lie. She could feel it in her bones—the grove was not empty tonight. Something else lurked here, something that did not belong. Rory quickened her pace, suddenly desperate to reach the center of the clearing. She told herself it was just her imagination running wild, the product of too many late nights spent poring over the strange books and artifacts that had come into her possession since she'd fled to London. But the tightness in her chest and the prickle of goosebumps on her skin told another story. At last, she reached the heart of the grove, where a circle of flat stones surrounded a small, still pool. She sank down onto one of the rocks, trying to steady her breathing and calm her racing heart. But as she looked down at the water, she froze. The surface of the pool was not still after all. In the moonlight, she could see ripples spreading out from the center, as if something had just disturbed the water from below. And in the depths, a faint, eerie glow pulsed in time with the beating of the Heartstone against her skin. Rory scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding in her ears. She took a step back from the pool, unable to tear her gaze away from the unsettling light beneath the surface. And as she watched, a dark shape began to emerge from the water, rising up from the depths like a figure materializing out of mist. She wanted to run, to flee the grove as fast as her legs could carry her. But she was rooted to the spot, her body refusing to obey her mind's frantic commands. The figure continued to rise, water streaming off its form, until it stood waist-deep in the pool, its features still obscured by shadow. "Who's there?" Rory called out, her voice trembling. "What do you want?" There was no answer. The figure simply stood there, silent and motionless, as if waiting for something. And then slowly, agonizingly slowly, it began to turn towards her. Rory's breath caught in her throat as the moonlight fell upon the figure's face, revealing features that were at once familiar and utterly alien. It was the face of someone she knew, someone she had once trusted—but it was twisted now, warped by an expression of malice and hunger that made her blood run cold. "Evan?" she whispered, her voice barely audible above the thundering of her heart. "Is that you?" The figure smiled then, a slow, predatory grin that sent shivers down her spine. And as it began to move towards her, stepping out of the pool with eerie, unnatural grace, Rory knew that whatever this thing was, it was not her ex. It was something else entirely, something that wore his face like a mask. She stumbled backward, her feet tangling in the undergrowth, as the figure advanced upon her. She could see its eyes now, glittering in the moonlight like chips of ice, and she knew with sudden, sickening certainty that it intended to do her harm. Rory's hand flew to the Heartstone pendant, and she felt it pulse beneath her fingers, its warmth surging through her like a jolt of electricity. And in that moment, she knew what she had to do. She closed her eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath, and then she reached deep inside herself, calling upon the strange, otherworldly power that she had only just begun to understand. The pendant blazed with sudden, searing heat, and she felt the energy coursing through her veins like liquid fire. When she opened her eyes again, the figure was almost upon her, its hands outstretched like claws. But Rory was no longer afraid. She stood her ground, the Heartstone's light washing over her, and faced the creature with newfound strength. "Go back to whatever hell you crawled out of," she snarled, her voice echoing through the grove with a power she had never known she possessed. "You have no claim on me." The figure shrieked, a sound like nails on a chalkboard, and recoiled as if burned. It staggered backward, its form flickering and wavering in the light of the pendant, and then with a final, earsplitting screech, it vanished, leaving nothing behind but a faint, sour smell like rotting leaves. Rory sank to her knees, shaking with exhaustion and relief. She knew that this was only the beginning, that there would be more battles to come. But for now, she was alive, and she was free. And as she looked down at the Heartstone, its deep crimson glow fading to a soft, gentle warmth, she knew that whatever lay ahead, she had the power to face it. She was Aurora Carter. And she would not be broken.