Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRCBAKY4XT033TNF1J109E

Aurora Carter stood in the narrow hallway of Eva's flat, her hand hovering over the third deadbolt. She hesitated, her breath catching in her throat. The tabby cat, Ptolemy, weaved between her legs, purring softly. She glanced down at the cat, then back at the door. She hadn't expected this visit, hadn't prepared for it. But there he was, standing on the other side, waiting. She turned the final deadbolt and pulled the door open. Lucien Moreau stood there, his heterochromatic eyes — one amber, one black — locking onto hers. He looked the same, yet different. The tailored charcoal suit clung to his frame, the ivory-handled cane in his hand a stark contrast to the dark fabric. His platinum blond hair was slicked back, as always, but there was a tension in his posture, a tightness around his mouth. "Rory," he said, his voice smooth, yet carrying an edge of something unspoken. "Lucien," she replied, her voice steady, though her heart pounded in her chest. "What are you doing here?" He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his presence filling the cramped space. "I need your help." She closed the door behind him, the click of the lock echoing in the small flat. "You always need something, don't you?" He turned to face her, his eyes searching hers. "This is different." She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the door. "Different how?" He took a step closer, the scent of his cologne — something dark and spicy — filling her senses. "It's about Avaros." Her breath hitched. "Avaros? What does that have to do with me?" "Everything," he said, his voice low. "And nothing. But I can't do this alone." She looked away, her eyes landing on the cluttered table covered in books and scrolls. "You left, Lucien. You walked away." "I had no choice," he said, his voice softening. "You know that." She turned back to him, her eyes flashing. "You always have a choice." He reached out, his hand brushing against her arm. "Rory, please." She pulled away, the touch sending a jolt through her. "Don't." He dropped his hand, his eyes darkening. "I didn't come here to dredge up the past." "Then why are you here?" she demanded, her voice rising. "Why now?" "Because I need you," he said, his voice breaking. "Because you're the only one who can help me." She stared at him, her mind racing. The memories of their time together — the laughter, the arguments, the nights spent talking until dawn — flooded her. She had loved him once, with a fierceness that had scared her. And he had left, without a word, without an explanation. "Why should I help you?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Because you still care," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "Because you know I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important." She looked away, her eyes landing on Ptolemy, who had settled on the armchair, watching them with curious eyes. "This isn't fair, Lucien." "I know," he said, his voice soft. "But life isn't fair." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "What do you need?" He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "I need you to come with me. To Avaros." Her eyes widened. "Avaros? Are you insane?" "Probably," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "But I can't do this without you." She shook her head, her mind reeling. "I can't just drop everything and go to another realm." "You can," he said, his voice firm. "And you will." She stared at him, her heart pounding. "Why me?" "Because you're the only one I trust," he said, his voice raw. "Because you're the only one who can help me." She looked away, her mind racing. She had built a life here, a fragile semblance of normalcy. But the pull of the unknown, the lure of adventure, was strong. And despite everything, despite the hurt and the anger, she still cared for him. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll help you." He let out a breath, relief washing over his face. "Thank you." "But this doesn't mean I've forgiven you," she added, her voice hardening. "I know," he said, his eyes softening. "But it's a start." She nodded, her mind made up. "When do we leave?" "Tonight," he said, his voice firm. "We don't have much time." She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead. "Alright. Let's do this." He reached out, his hand brushing against hers. "Together." She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. "Together." For a moment, they stood there, the weight of their past hanging between them. Then, with a nod, she turned and began to gather her things, the decision made. They would face whatever lay ahead, together.