Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMCKS880NSG013WTFFN1ZJ

The air in Richmond Park was thick with the scent of damp earth and something older, something *wrong*—like the first breath of autumn before the leaves had fallen. Aurora Carter adjusted the strap of her backpack, the weight of her phone in her pocket a reassurance, though her pulse hammered against her ribs like a warning. She had come here for the grove. The Fae Grove. The place where time didn’t bend like it did elsewhere, where the air hummed with something just beyond hearing. She had been told the standing stones marked the boundary, but she hadn’t expected the way the world *shifted* when she stepped through. The trees loomed taller than they should, their branches twisting in ways that didn’t match the light. The sky above was too still, the stars too bright, their edges bleeding into the darkness like they were watching her. Aurora exhaled sharply, her breath fogging the cool night air. The Heartstone pendant at her throat pulsed faintly, warm against her skin, though she knew it was nothing more than a gift from an unknown benefactor. Still, the way it glowed when she pressed her palm against it—like it was *listening*—made her fingers twitch. She moved quickly, her boots crunching over fallen leaves, her breath steady despite the creeping dread. The grove was supposed to be peaceful. A place where the veil between worlds was thin, where the Fae could slip through unseen. But something was *off*. The wind carried whispers, not of trees or birds, but of voices—soft, distant, *wrong*. Like a child’s laughter, but older, deeper, something that didn’t belong in the night. Aurora froze. Her ears strained, but there was nothing. Just the rustle of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl—nothing else. Then she saw it. A shadow. Not a tree. Not a branch. Something *else* moving just beyond the edge of her vision, a blur of dark against the pale moonlight. She didn’t turn. She couldn’t. Not yet. But her stomach twisted, and her pulse spiked. She told herself it was her imagination. That the grove was just… strange. That the standing stones were real, but the world around them was a lie. That she was alone. But the whispers came again, closer this time, closer than the wind could carry. A voice, not quite human, not quite anything she’d ever heard before. It slithered into her mind, insistent, *knowing*. Aurora’s breath hitched. The pendant burned against her skin, its warmth a lie. She reached for it, her fingers brushing the chain, and the glow intensified—not just warmth, but something *else*. Something that pulsed in time with the voice inside her head. She turned. The standing stones loomed before her, their carvings worn but unmistakable—old, ancient. And between them, just beyond the reach of her vision, something *moved*. Not a figure. Not a shape. Something that wasn’t quite a shape at all. Aurora’s heart hammered against her ribs. She should run. She should *run*. But the voice inside her head was louder now, clearer, and it wasn’t asking her to leave. It was telling her to *stay*. And for the first time, she understood why she had come here. Not for the grove. Not for the veil between worlds. But for the thing that waited in the dark, just beyond her sight, waiting for her to see it. The whisper slithered closer, warmer, and Aurora realized, with a sinking dread, that she had already done it. She had come to find it.