Run: 2026-02-19-01KHT02G9QT1VMKEMV5SZ4H489

The ancient oak standing stones rose from the mist, their surfaces etched with symbols that seemed to shift when viewed from the corner of one's eye. Aurora Carter traced a finger along one of the carvings, the rough bark biting into her skin. The Heartstone Pendant beneath her sweater pulsed, a steady rhythm against her sternum. "Are you certain about this?" Nyx materialized from her shadow, their form coalescing into a humanoid silhouette taller and broader than her. Their violet eyes glowed faintly in the dim light. "You're the one who said Isolde could help us find the rift points." Rory adjusted the delivery bag on her shoulder, the restaurant logo barely visible in the fading light. "Besides, what's the worst that could happen? We get lost in a magical grove?" "The time flows differently here. Minutes could become days. Days could become years." Nyx's voice carried on the breeze, barely louder than the rustling leaves. "We should proceed with caution." Rory stepped between two of the standing stones, the air thickening as she crossed the invisible boundary. The temperature dropped several degrees, and the sounds of Richmond Park faded away, replaced by an otherworldly silence. She turned to find Nyx already beside her, having slipped through the space between shadows. "Whoa," Rory breathed, her bright blue eyes widening. The grove unfolded before them, a circular clearing bathed in perpetual twilight. Wildflowers bloomed in impossible colors—deep blues that seemed to absorb light, reds that glowed with their own inner fire, and purples so vibrant they hurt to look at directly. In the center stood a massive tree, its silver bark shimmering even without direct sunlight. "Impressive, isn't it?" A woman's voice came from behind them. Rory spun around to find a figure emerging from the tree itself. Isolde Varga moved with impossible grace, her silver hair flowing around her like liquid moonlight despite the absence of wind. Her pale lavender eyes fixed on Rory, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. "You're late," Isolde said, her voice carrying musical notes that seemed to resonate in Rory's bones. "We got held up." Rory instinctively reached for the pendant beneath her sweater, its warmth reassuring against her cool fingers. "Traffic was hell." Isolde's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Hell is closer than you think, child of two worlds. The Veil weakens, and the Prince of Gluttony hungers for what lies beyond." Nyx shifted beside Rory, their form becoming slightly more solid. "The rifts are spreading. We need your guidance to find them before they consume more of the city." "Patience, shadow walker." Isolde glided past them, her feet making no impression on the grass. "First, you must understand what you seek." She led them deeper into the grove, where the colors grew more intense and the air thrummed with latent energy. Rory noticed that the Heartstone Pendant was glowing now, its crimson light visible through the thin fabric of her sweater. "The pendant recognizes this place," Isolde noted without turning. "It was born of similar energies, forged in the fires of Dymas." "Dymas?" Rory asked, the word foreign on her tongue. "A realm of indulgence and excess, where the Prince Belphegor holds court." Isolde gestured to a patch of flowers that seemed to bloom and wither in rapid succession. "Like these flowers, the boundary between worlds is fragile here." As they walked, Rory noticed that the grove defied normal physics. Trees grew in impossible spirals, their branches weaving through each other without touching. Streams flowed uphill, and the sky above remained in perpetual twilight, despite the fact that the sun should have set hours ago. "How long have we been in here?" Rory asked, suddenly aware that her sense of time had completely dissolved. "Time is a river with many currents," Isolde replied cryptically. "In this grove, it pools and eddies, flowing backward and forward simultaneously." Nyx's form wavered. "We cannot linger. The longer we stay, the harder it becomes to return to our own time." "Then we must make haste." Isolde stopped before a pool of liquid that shimmered like oil on water. "Look and see." Rory approached the pool cautiously, Nyx at her side. As she gazed into its depths, images formed—places throughout London where the air seemed to warp and bend, like heat rising from pavement. In these spots, shadows gathered too thickly, and colors appeared slightly off, as if viewed through a prism. "These are the weak points in the Veil," Isolde explained. "Tears between worlds where Hel bleeds into your reality." Rory reached into her delivery bag and pulled out a map of London, marking the locations she recognized from the vision. "There are more than I thought." "The Heartstone will guide you to them," Isolde said. "But you will need protection against what lies beyond." She extended her hand, and a slender dagger materialized in her palm. The blade glowed with a faint luminescence, its leaf-shaped edge catching the impossible light of the grove. "The Fae-Forged Blade," Nyx whispered, their voice filled with reverence. "I haven't seen one in centuries." Isolde offered it to Rory, who took it cautiously. The metal was cold to the touch, colder than it should have been, and seemed to absorb the warmth from her hand. "It can cut through magical wards," Isolde said. "Particularly effective against demons from the Hel realms." Rory attached the sheath to her belt, the weight of the blade unfamiliar but reassuring. "Why are you helping us?" Isolde's lavender eyes darkened. "The Fae Courts exiled me for sharing visions with mortals. Why should I stop now?" A sudden tremor shook the grove, and the colors around them intensified for a moment before fading slightly. Isolde's expression grew serious. "The Veil weakens further. You must go now, before the passage between our worlds closes completely." Rory nodded, tucking the map into her bag. "We'll find the rifts." "Be careful, child of two worlds," Isolde warned. "The pendant responds to the energy of Hel, but it will also draw attention from those who dwell there. Prince Belphegor is not known for his generosity." As they turned to leave, Rory noticed something new in the grove—a path that hadn't been there before, leading deeper into the impossible space. For a moment, she felt an overwhelming urge to follow it, to see what other wonders lay hidden in this place between worlds. "Rory," Nyx's voice pulled her back. "Time." She shook her head, clearing the strange impulse, and hurried after the Shade toward the standing stones. As they passed between the ancient oaks, the sounds of Richmond Park rushed back in—a stark contrast to the otherworldly silence of the grove. The night air felt cold and ordinary after the thrumming energy of Isolde's sanctuary. Rory looked down at the Heartstone Pendant, its crimson glow fading as they stepped fully back into the mundane world. The Fae-Forged Blade at her hip remained cold, a constant reminder of the path that lay ahead. "The first rift is close," Nyx said, their form becoming less distinct as they melted back into the shadows of the park. "We should go before anyone notices us here." Rory nodded, her fingers tightening around the pendant. The world felt different now—thinner, as if she could see through it to the magical realms beyond. The veil had been lifted, and there was no going back.