Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMQE6P02XDAEEC45Q4D46X8

The Heartstone pendant burned against Aurora's collarbone, a steady, rhythmic heat that had nothing to do with body temperature. She pressed a hand to her chest, fingers brushing the silver chain, feeling the deep crimson gem pulse like a second heartbeat. Beside her, the alleyway shadows coalesced, rising from the brickwork until they formed a towering silhouette. Nyx stood six feet of living darkness, the faint violet glow of their eyes cutting through the London gloom. "The tear is here," Nyx whispered, the voice sounding like dry leaves skittering over pavement. "The Veil is thin. Frayed." Aurora squinted at the blank wall of the warehouse. To her human eyes, it was just grimy brick and peeling paint. But the pendant tugged her forward, insistent. She adjusted the grip on the Fae-Forged Blade in her left hand. The moonsilver was always cold, a stark contrast to the humid summer night, and the chill seeped into her palm, grounding her. The leaf-shaped dagger hummed faintly, sensing the proximity of the unnatural. "Lead the way," Aurora said, her voice steady despite the adrenaline tightening her throat. She was a delivery driver, not a soldier, but she had learned quickly that panic got you killed in the spaces between worlds. Nyx flowed forward, their form shifting from solid to incorporeal as they passed through the brickwork. Aurora didn't have that luxury. She stepped into the shadow where Nyx had vanished and felt the air pressure drop. The sounds of London traffic—the distant sirens, the rumble of buses—vanished instantly, replaced by a heavy, static silence. Then, a shimmering distortion rippled before her, like heat haze off asphalt. She pushed through. The transition was not a step but a fall. Her stomach lurched, and the ground solidified beneath her boots with a soft thud. Aurora blinked, her bright blue eyes widening. The grey sky of London was gone. Above them stretched a canopy of warm amber, glowing without a visible sun. It cast a perpetual late-afternoon light over the landscape, bathing everything in a honeyed hue. They stood on a ridge overlooking a vast expanse of vineyards, but the vines were unlike any grown on Earth. The leaves were deep purple, veined with gold, and the grapes hanging from them were the size of plums, translucent and glowing softly from within. The air was thick, heavy with scent. It wasn't just the smell of earth and plants; it was the aroma of a kitchen left to simmer for days. Roasted meats, spiced wines, caramelized sugar, and exotic herbs wove together into a perfume so rich it made Aurora's mouth water involuntarily. It was the scent of excess. "Where are we?" she asked, her breath catching in the humid air. "Dymas," Nyx replied. The Shade stood beside her, now fully solid, their shadowy form stark against the amber light. "The realm of Gluttony. Prince Belphegor's domain." Aurora looked down at her left wrist, where the small crescent-shaped scar from her childhood accident itched faintly. A psychosomatic reaction, surely, but the place felt like it was pressing against her skin. She tightened her grip on the Fae blade. The cold metal was a relief against the oppressive warmth of this world. "It's beautiful," she admitted, though the word felt inadequate. Rows of orchards stretched into the distance, trees laden with fruits that shimmered like gemstones. In the valley below, she could see structures carved from white stone, smoke rising from chimneys in lazy, fragrant spirals. "It is a trap," Nyx corrected, their violet eyes scanning the horizon. "Everything here is designed to indulge. To consume. To keep you full until you forget you ever wanted to leave." Aurora took a step forward, her boots sinking into soil that was too soft, too rich. Wildflowers bloomed at her feet, but their colors were wrong—shades of orange and red that seemed to vibrate. She watched a beetle crawl across a leaf, its shell made of what looked like polished copper. "We need to find the portal back," Aurora said, forcing her mind into the analytical box she used for law exams. "The pendant brought us here. It should guide us out." "The Heartstone reacts to Hel portals," Nyx said, drifting slightly ahead. Their form flickered, edges blurring into the ambient shadow of the vines. "But Dymas is vast. The portals are guarded." As they descended the ridge, the silence broke. Distant laughter echoed from the valley, accompanied by the clinking of glass and the strumming of strings. It sounded like a feast, but the joy in the voices felt strained, rehearsed. Aurora spotted movement among the vines below. Figures moved with purpose, carrying baskets of the glowing fruit. They wore aprons stained with juices that looked too much like blood. "Helbound souls," Nyx whispered. "Contracted from Earth. Chefs, mostly." Aurora felt a chill that had nothing to do with the blade. She remembered the codex entries she'd skimmed in Isolde's grove, the warnings about the cost of magic. These weren't just workers; they were trapped. She moved deeper into the orchard, the amber light filtering through the purple leaves. The heat was intensifying, making her black hair stick to her neck. She brushed a hand against a hanging fruit, and it pulsed under her touch, warm and yielding. A drop of juice welled up where her nail pierced the skin, smelling of cinnamon and clove. "Don't eat," Nyx warned, their voice sharp. "Once you consume the essence of Hel, you belong to it." Aurora wiped her hand on her jeans, wiping away the sticky residue. "Noted." They reached the edge of a clearing where a stone table stood, laden with platters of food that steamed despite the heat. The spread was immaculate, perfect, yet no one sat there. It was an offering. Or a lure. Aurora's pendant spiked in temperature, burning hot against her skin. She hissed, pulling the chain out to look at the crimson gem. It was glowing fiercely, pointing toward a grove of twisted trees at the far end of the clearing. "There," she said. "The way out is rarely the way in," Nyx said, their form elongating as they stretched toward the twisted trees. "The Veil shifts here. Time is fluid." Aurora looked back at the ridge they had descended. It seemed further away now, the distance stretching unnaturally. The amber sky seemed to darken slightly, the light deepening to the color of bruised flesh. The laughter from the valley grew louder, closer, though no one had approached them. She sheathed the Fae blade at her hip, the cold metal settling against her thigh. She was cool-headed. She was intelligent. She could navigate a courtroom; she could navigate a hellish vineyard. But as she looked at the twisted trees, she felt the weight of the place settling on her shoulders. It was a place of hunger, and it had noticed them. "Stay close," Aurora said, her voice low. Nyx nodded, a ripple passing through their shadowy substance. "Always." They moved toward the trees, the ground soft beneath their feet, leaving no prints in the rich soil. Aurora kept her hand near the blade, her eyes on the amber horizon, waiting for the feast to begin.