Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTXCN2759T21KSVBPGJMQ73

The ancient oaks loomed against the starless sky like gnarled fingers, their standing stones arrangement casting twisted shadows across the grove floor. Aurora stepped through the boundary, her delivery bag slung over one shoulder, the familiar weight of the Heartstone pendant resting against her collarbone. The crimson gem pulsed with its usual faint warmth, but something about its rhythm felt different tonight—irregular, almost anxious. She'd come here searching for answers about the pendant's origins, following whispered hints from Silas about old magic that lingered in Richmond Park after dark. The grove had always felt otherworldly during her previous visits, but those had been in daylight, when wildflowers bloomed impossibly bright and time seemed to stretch like honey. Now, in the dead of night, the clearing held an entirely different character. Her trainers crunched softly on fallen leaves that shouldn't exist in eternal spring. The sound carried too far in the still air, echoing back from directions that made no geographical sense. Aurora paused, listening. Nothing moved. Not even a whisper of wind stirred the branches overhead. That was the first thing that felt wrong. Even London's most secluded parks hummed with ambient noise—distant traffic, night birds, the rustle of small creatures in the underbrush. Here, silence pressed against her eardrums like cotton wool. She pulled out her mobile, thumb hovering over Eva's contact. The screen flickered, displaying impossible timestamps that scrolled backward and forward simultaneously. The battery indicator jumped from seventy percent to twelve, then back to full. Aurora shoved the phone into her jacket pocket and pressed deeper into the grove. The Heartstone's pulse quickened against her chest. Moonlight should have filtered through the canopy, but the darkness above seemed absolute. Her eyes had adjusted enough to make out the massive oak trunks and the rough circle they formed, but details remained frustratingly unclear. She moved toward what she remembered as the grove's centre, where wildflowers typically carpeted the ground in impossible profusion. Her foot struck something solid. Aurora crouched, fingers exploring what felt like carved stone—smooth, deliberate shapes that definitely hadn't been there during daylight visits. A low altar, perhaps, or marker of some kind. The surface radiated cold that bit through her fingertips. A branch snapped somewhere behind her. Aurora spun, heart hammering. The grove appeared empty, shadows shifting only in response to her own movement. She counted the standing stone oaks slowly, reassuring herself of their positions. Seven trees in a rough circle, just as always. But the spaces between them seemed to yawn wider now, darkness flowing like water into gaps that should have been manageable. "Right, well done, Rory," she muttered, her voice sounding thin and strange. "Brilliant idea, wandering about haunted groves at half past midnight." The echo that came back carried the wrong cadence, as if someone else had spoken the words with slightly different timing. She fumbled for her delivery bag's front pocket, extracting the small torch she kept for dim hallways and dodgy addresses. Its LED beam cut through the darkness, revealing the altar more clearly. Definitely carved stone, covered in symbols that hurt to look at directly. They seemed to shift when she wasn't focusing on them, rearranging themselves into patterns that almost made sense before dissolving back into meaningless curves. The pendant burned against her skin now, hot enough to be uncomfortable. Aurora lifted the chain over her head, holding the Heartstone up to catch the torchlight. The crimson gem blazed with inner fire, its glow casting red shadows that moved independently of her torch beam. Something rustled in the canopy overhead. Aurora aimed the torch upward, its beam disappearing into branches that stretched impossibly high. No birds. No leaves moving. Just that sense of presence, of being observed by something that understood patience far better than any human ever could. She backed toward one of the standing stone oaks, keeping the carved altar in sight. The tree's bark felt rough and reassuring against her shoulders until she noticed how warm it was. Oak shouldn't radiate heat like living flesh. Her fingers explored the trunk's surface, finding ridges that could have been bark or could have been something else entirely. A footstep crunched in the leaves to her left. Aurora froze, not even breathing. The sound hadn't been an animal's careful tread or the random settling of forest debris. Someone—or something—had deliberately placed weight on the ground, crushing dried vegetation underfoot. She swept the torch in a wide arc. Empty spaces between trees, shadows that seemed to drink the light rather than dispel under its touch. The beam revealed nothing that shouldn't belong, but wrongness pressed against her from every direction now. The Heartstone pendant swung gently from her raised hand, painting everything in shifting red light. Its pulse matched her racing heartbeat, growing faster as whatever shared the grove with her grew bolder. Aurora had the distinct impression that something was circling, staying just beyond her torch's reach while evaluating her presence. Another footstep, this time behind her. She spun again, nearly dropping the pendant. Nothing. But the darkness between the trees seemed denser now, more purposeful. Aurora pressed her back against the oak trunk, trying to keep the entire grove in sight simultaneously. Impossible, of course. Seven standing stones formed too large a circle for one person to monitor effectively. The carved altar drew her attention again. In the Heartstone's crimson glow, the symbols appeared more distinct, almost readable. They pulsed in rhythm with the pendant, suggesting some connection between the gem and whatever ancient purpose this place served. She'd come seeking answers about the artifact's origins. Perhaps she'd found them, though not in any form she'd hoped for. A whisper reached her ears—not words, exactly, but something that bypassed language entirely and spoke directly to the primitive parts of her brain that understood predators and prey. The sound came from everywhere and nowhere, rising from the grove's stones and soil rather than from any visible source. Aurora's rational mind insisted she should leave. Walk back through the boundary stones, return to familiar London streets where the worst threats wore human faces and operated by comprehensible rules. But the Heartstone's burning presence against her palm suggested she was already too deep in something to simply retreat. The pendant's glow intensified, casting her shadow in multiple directions simultaneously. Each shadow moved slightly out of sync with the others, creating a disorienting dance of dark shapes that seemed to reach toward something she couldn't see. In the spaces between the standing stone oaks, other shadows began to gather.