Run: 2026-02-19-01KHT0YMM5ZTCH5J5XWH9NX38M

The door swung open, revealing familiar eyes — one amber, one black. Aurora's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't seen Lucien Moreau in a year, not since their messy parting. His slicked-back platinum blond hair and tailored charcoal suit seemed as impeccable as ever. He leaned slightly, gripping his ivory-handled cane with the same elegant arrogance that always infuriated and endeared him to her. "Rory." His voice was silk, layered with that unmistakable French lilt. "Lucien," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. He glanced down the narrow corridor, eyes flitting over the peeling wallpaper and dim light before locking back onto her. "May I come in?" Aurora hesitated. Behind her, the cozy disarray of Eva's flat seemed worlds apart from the suave, dangerous air Lucien carried. But the pull was undeniable. Already she'd felt that nagging curiosity, tinged with excitement and dread. "Alright," she stepped aside, holding the door wider. The tabby cat named Ptolemy darted between her legs and shot into the hallway. Lucien entered, his gait measured. He placed the cane against the wall, his eyes scanning the cluttered space. "Things haven't changed much, I see." Rory shut the door, the three deadbolts clicking into place. "Eva likes her books." She turned, crossing her arms, the crescent-shaped scar on her wrist catching the light briefly. He noticed. His gaze lingered before meeting hers. "And you? Any changes?" "Maybe a few," she replied. "What's this about, Lucien? Why are you here?" He exhaled, moving to a small wooden chair by the cluttered table. "I need your help." Rory scoffed, leaning against the counter. "After everything that happened? You think you can just waltz in and—" "Yes," he interrupted, his voice sharper. The intensity of his gaze softened, though, as his tone turned to a near plea. "Please, Rory. It's important." "Important," she echoed, bitterness seeping through. Memories of their last confrontation flashed in her mind. The shouting, the accusations, the lingering looks and unsaid words. "Yes." He looked around again, a hint of discomfort creeping into his posture. "Can we sit?" She nodded, begrudgingly, and motioned to the shabby sofa. They sat at opposite ends, the physical divide echoing the emotional chasm between them. Lucien reached into his suit jacket, pulling out a folded piece of parchment. "There's a ritual—" "There's always a ritual," Rory cut in. "What makes this one different?" "This one threatens both realms. Your world... and mine." His words hung heavy in the air. The realm of Avaros, a place she barely understood but had gotten tangled with because of him. She leaned forward, curiosity piqued despite herself. "Go on." "There are forces who wish to merge the realms. The balance would be shattered. Both worlds would suffer unimaginable consequences." His voice grew more fervent, his heterochromatic eyes displaying a sincerity she couldn't ignore. Rory frowned. "And what do you need from me?" "A map. An ancient one, hidden here in London." He leaned closer, eyes pleading. "You're the best at finding things, Rory. I need you." Her heart ached at those words, memories of their past swirling within her. She wanted to yell, to push him away, but the gravity of his plea held her back. "And what do I get in return?" she challenged, more to buy time than anything else. "Protection," he replied immediately. "Not just for you, but for everyone." She stared at him, the man who had once been her everything, and the enormity of what he was asking settled in. "How do I know this isn't another one of your schemes?" Lucien's gaze softened further. "Because this time, Rory, our worlds hang in the balance. Because this time, I'm asking you to trust me." Silence stretched. Ptolemy meowed loudly, the only sound breaking the heavy quiet. Rory instinctively reached down to stroke the feline, grounding herself. "Fine," she finally said. "I'll help. But you don't get to disappear after this. We figure this out together." A rare, genuine smile crossed Lucien's face. "Deal." She couldn't help noticing how that smile still had the power to weaken her resolve. Standing, she walked to the small table cluttered with Eva’s research. "Let's start with what we know." Lucien joined her, his presence warm and familiar beside her. Papers rustled as they delved into books and documents, the old dynamics slipping back into place, albeit tentatively. Hours passed in relative quiet as they worked, stealing brief, cautious glances at each other amidst the hushed shuffle of paper. The tension remained, but it was laced with an undercurrent of rediscovered camaraderie. And as the clock on the wall ticked towards midnight, Aurora couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, this chance encounter was what they both needed. If maybe their worlds wouldn't just be saved but rebuilt — together.