Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNFAC98N070FDJM32PBS5EX

The air shifted as they stepped through the shimmering distortion. One moment, Aurora felt the crisp bite of the London evening on her skin; the next, a warm, amber glow enveloped her. The transition was seamless, like stepping through a curtain she hadn’t noticed was there. The air smelled faintly sweet, like ripe fruit and honey, but with an undercurrent of something darker—something rich and almost metallic. “Well,” Nyx said, their voice a whisper that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, “this is certainly... indulgent.” Aurora blinked, adjusting to the sudden change. The sky above wasn’t a sky at all—it looked like molten gold, swirling lazily in patterns that reminded her of caramel being stirred. The ground beneath her feet was soft, covered in a thick moss that pulsed faintly with a bioluminescent glow. It felt warm, almost alive. She glanced down at her boots, half expecting the moss to cling to them, but it didn’t. It seemed to part as she moved, as if it were aware of her presence. “Dymas,” Isolde murmured, her voice carrying a melodic echo. Her silver hair glinted in the amber light, and her lavender eyes scanned the horizon with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. “A realm of excess, of gluttony. Be mindful, Rory. Even the air here tempts.” Aurora reached up instinctively to touch the Heartstone pendant around her neck. It pulsed faintly against her skin, a steady warmth that grounded her. She could feel the weight of the Fae-Forged Blade at her hip, its cold presence a stark contrast to the warmth of the moss underfoot. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus. The landscape stretched before them like a dreamscape. Towering trees with bark that shimmered like polished bronze rose in the distance, their leaves a kaleidoscope of colors—deep purples, vibrant oranges, and hues she didn’t have names for. Between the trees, paths of smooth, obsidian-like stone wound through the mossy ground, leading deeper into the grove. The air was alive with sound: the soft rustle of leaves, the distant rush of water, and a faint hum that seemed to emanate from the trees themselves. “Which way?” Aurora asked, her voice low. Isolde tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “The paths here are... fluid. They change depending on desire. But we must tread carefully. What you seek may not always lead you where you wish to go.” Nyx materialized beside Aurora, their shadowy form solidifying into a tall, humanoid shape. Their violet eyes glowed faintly, and their voice was quieter than usual. “This place feels... heavy. Like it’s watching us.” Aurora nodded, unease prickling at the edges of her thoughts. She turned to Isolde. “Do you sense anything? Any danger?” Isolde’s gaze remained fixed on the trees. “The grove is alive, Rory. It knows we are here. Whether it welcomes us or seeks to consume us remains to be seen.” Aurora clenched her jaw, her hand drifting to the hilt of her blade. “We don’t have much of a choice. We need to find Belphegor.” Isolde hummed softly, her footsteps leaving no trace on the mossy ground. “Then we move forward. But remember—here, temptation is a weapon.” They started down one of the obsidian paths, the moss parting silently beneath their feet. As they walked, the grove seemed to breathe around them, the trees shifting subtly, their leaves whispering secrets in a language Aurora couldn’t understand. The air grew warmer, thicker, laden with the scent of flowers and spilled wine. It was intoxicating, almost overwhelming. “Careful,” Nyx warned, their voice barely audible. “The air here... it’s not just air. It’s trying to influence you.” Aurora nodded, focusing on the pendant’s warmth against her chest. It pulsed steadily, a reminder of why she was here. She glanced back at Isolde, who walked with her usual ethereal grace, her silver hair shimmering like moonlight. Beyond her, Nyx drifted in and out of shadow, their form flickering as if the grove itself were trying to claim them. The path widened as they approached a clearing, and Aurora froze at the sight before her. The clearing was dominated by a massive fountain, its basin carved from what looked like translucent amber. The water that flowed from it shimmered like liquid gold, cascading down into the basin with a sound that was almost musical. Around the fountain, tables laden with food stretched as far as the eye could see—platters of fruit so ripe they seemed to glow, meats glistening with juices, pastries dusted with sugar that sparkled like diamonds. The sight was breathtaking, but it was the people—or rather, the beings—that made her stomach twist. Figures moved among the tables, their forms both human and grotesque. Some had elongated limbs, others too many eyes or mouths. They laughed and feasted with abandon, their voices a cacophony of delight and hunger. “Helbound souls,” Isolde said softly. “Those who indulged too deeply in life, now bound to serve as chefs and entertainers in Dymas. Do not speak to them. Do not accept anything they offer.” Aurora’s grip tightened on her blade as a figure noticed them—a tall, gaunt being with skin that shimmered like oil on water. Its mouth stretched into a grin too wide for its face, and it approached with a fluid, almost predatory grace. “Travelers,” it hissed, its voice dripping with delight. “Hungry? Thirsty? We have the finest offerings in all of Dymas.” Aurora shook her head, her voice firm. “No, thank you.” The creature’s grin widened, and it tilted its head at an unnatural angle. “Are you sure? The fruit is sweet, the wine is divine. One bite, one sip, and all your worries will melt away.” Aurora felt a pull, a sudden, overwhelming desire to taste the fruit, to drink the wine. She took a step forward, her hand reaching out almost against her will. The pendant at her chest pulsed sharply, the warmth turning to a searing heat that snapped her out of the trance. She stumbled back, her breath coming in short gasps. “No,” she said, her voice trembling. “We’re not here for that.” The creature’s grin faltered, and its eyes narrowed. “Pity,” it hissed before melting back into the crowd. Nyx’s form solidified beside her, their violet eyes glowing with concern. “Are you alright?” Aurora nodded, though her heart was still pounding. “I’m fine. Let’s keep moving.” They left the clearing behind, the path narrowing once more. The grove seemed darker here, the trees twisting into strange, almost sinister shapes. The air was cooler, the scent of honey and fruit replaced by something sharper, almost acrid. “We’re getting closer,” Isolde murmured. “I can feel him.” Aurora’s fingers brushed the pendant again, its warmth steadying her. She glanced at Nyx, who nodded silently, their form flickering faintly. Together, they pressed on, deeper into the grove, where the amber sky darkened and the whispers of the trees grew louder.