Run: 2026-02-19-01KHVP6QH7BT1ME2SF15Q7S239

Isolde glides past the ancient oak standing stones marking the boundary. Silver hair cascades to her waist, catching the moonlight. She moves with ethereal grace, leaving the dew-drenched grass undisturbed beneath her bare feet. "The doorway slumbers where the roots drink deepest." Isolde gestures toward the black expanse between two massive oaks. Aurora traces the small crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist. The gesture grounds her mind. She reaches into her coat pocket. The Heartstone throbs against her fingertips, radiating a fierce, localized heat. The Veil approaches. Nyx flows over the manicured park grass. Their incorporeal form condenses into a tall, broad humanoid outline. Violet eyes pierce the gloom of the shadows. "The Veil fractures here. The boundary bleeds out." Nyx's voice breezes past Aurora, possessing no breath, just the hollow rush of night wind. Aurora steps forward. The space between the oaks forms a wall of gray static. A shimmering distortion ripples the air. She pushes her hand through the barrier. The atmosphere bites at her skin, sparking with unseen electricity. The world twists. Her boots leave the predictable park soil and strike a damp, spongy floor. The transition rips the quiet London night away. The environment corrupts the senses. The damp chill of Earth vanishes, replaced by a suffocating, dense warmth. Aurora blinks to adjust her vision. The sky above lacks stars or a moon. Instead, a warm, bruised amber glow filters down through an overgrown canopy. Wildflowers erupt from the moss in shocking hues. They bloom and wilt in rapid bursts. Crimson petals burst open, wither into ash, and sprout anew from the same stem within seconds. The cycle repeats, a visual manifestation of a broken clock. "Time tangles in these woods." Isolde spins. Her pale lavender eyes reflect the unnatural amber sky above them. "A single bite feeds a lifetime. A lifetime wastes away in a minute." Aurora pulls the Fae-Forged blade from her belt. The slender, leaf-shaped dagger leeches the ambient heat. Frost blooms along the moonsilver edge, creating a stark contrast to the burning Heartstone in her pocket. She advances through the thick brush. The glowing wildflowers cast strange shadows against massive, pale tree trunks. "The air smells of fermented sugar and roasted marrow." Aurora steps over a thick, glowing root. Nyx melts into the soil, becoming a puddle of living ink sliding beneath a row of giant, bioluminescent ferns. The Shade rises back into a commanding six-foot-two solid silhouette near an archway of thorny vines. "Decadence rots the earth here. This is not the Seer's domain alone." Nyx points a shadowy tendril toward the canopy. Aurora looks up. Crystal spheres suspend from the twisting branches, filled with a viscous amber liquid. Below them lay massive stone blocks. They serve as banquet tables, overgrown with emerald moss and crushed velvet vines. Mountains of food crowd the slabs. Exotic fruits split open to reveal glittering gemstone seeds. Platters of roasted, unidentifiable meats steam the air. "Prince Belphegor extends his table across the realms." Isolde traces a finger along the rim of a gold platter. She ignores the food. "Those who hunger find the feast. Those who feast become the soil." "The pendant burns." Aurora pulls the Heartstone from her pocket. The deep crimson gem casts a violent red light over her knuckles, pushing back the amber ambiance. "A tether to the pit." Nyx leans over Aurora's shoulder. The unnatural chill of the Shade's form battles the artifact's oppressive heat. "Gluttony calls its own." Aurora inspects the banquet table. The ground squelches beneath her boots. Dark wine pools in the deep grooves carved into the stone slab, spilling over the edge to feed the roots of the blooming wildflowers. She taps a massive glass-like grape with the tip of her dagger. The fruit shivers, then ruptures. Silver fluid oozes onto the moss. The cloying scent of rich pastries assaults her senses. An overwhelming, unnatural hunger claws at her stomach. The moss drinks the silver fluid. The crushed velvet vines resting on the stone slab twitch. Dark green tendrils uncoil, slithering over the platters of meat like starving serpents. Aurora watches a vine wrap around a pomegranate skull, crushing it into a ruby-red paste. The thick plant material swells, absorbing the juice. It turns its blind head toward her boots. "The garden feeds on itself." Aurora steps back. She holds the moonsilver dagger out. The cold radiating from the blade creates a visible mist in the humid air. The vine lunges. Aurora steps off her left foot, pivoting. The thick vine snaps at the empty air where her leg just stood. She slashes downward. The Fae-forged blade severs the tendril. The severed piece hits the stone and withers into gray dust. A high-pitched, echoing shriek rings out from the canopy above. "Wards woven into the soil." Nyx shifts forms, expanding their shadowy silhouette to engulf three more vines diving from the tree branches. The vines hit the void of Nyx's chest and freeze, their life force drained by the shade. "Even a feast requires a lock." Isolde glides past the squirming plants. They shrink away from her bare feet, recoiling, her very presence violating their nature. "A lock seeks a key, but a thief seeks a window." Isolde does not look back at them. "The roots know who belongs to the earth." "Helpful as always." Aurora kicks the gray dust away. She studies the archway of thorny vines ahead. The thorns possess the length of daggers, dripping with the viscous amber liquid. She analyzes the movement of the plants. The vines reacted to the spilled silver fluid from the burst grape. They follow a sensory trigger. "Nyx." Aurora points to a platter across the clearing, far from the archway. It holds a mountain of roasted meats. "Take that platter. Dump it near the western tree line." The Shade dissolves into mist, manifesting a fraction of a second later beside the stone slab. A shadowy appendage sweeps the platter off the table. The heavy silver clatters against the dirt. The roasted meat spills into the thick ferns. The thorny vines composing the archway rip themselves from the soil. They drag their massive barbed bodies toward the spilled meat, tearing up enormous chunks of dirt in their frenzy. The path opens. Aurora secures her grip on the cold dagger and breaks into a jog. "Move." Aurora crosses the threshold before the vines deduce the trick. Nyx flows behind her, a stream of dark mist reforming into the tall silhouette. Isolde dances through the gap, her pale lavender eyes fixed on the horizon. The mosaic of shattered porcelain plates replaces the dirt trail. "Listen." Aurora halts. A low, rhythmic thrum vibrates through the soles of her shoes. The sound carries the distinct clatter of silver plates and the clinking of crystal glasses, mixed with a deep, pulsing heartbeat. Nyx dissipates. The Shade shifts into a thin mist, blanketing the forest floor. The glowing violet eyes materialize within the bark of a nearby tree. "Footsteps. Heavy. Countless. In the space between the light." Nyx re-forms a few feet closer to the ruined path. "They gorge unseen." Isolde tilts her head. Her silver hair falls straight despite a sudden, hot wind tearing through the clearing. "The music plays for the empty stomach. Will you dance, or will you consume?" "We document the rift and move out." Aurora points the cold dagger forward. "A wise mouse starves in the snake's den." Isolde smiles. A beautiful, terrifying curve of her pale lips. The group pushes deeper. The oak standing stones fade out of sight, swallowed by the erratic vegetation. The crunching under Aurora's boots replaces the silence of the forest. The amber sky darkens into a burned orange. The temperature spikes. Aurora wipes a bead of sweat from her brow. She unzips her jacket. The Heartstone swings against her chest, searing her collarbone through the cotton of her shirt. A massive structure breaks through the tree line ahead. A ruined gazebo crafted from fused bone and spun sugar. Black vines throttle the pale pillars. "Hell and the Fae Realms." Aurora steps over a shattered crystal goblet. "A terrible renovation project." "The boundaries fray under the solstice sun." Nyx glides over the debris. The Shade casts no shadow, absorbing the amber light into their void-like form. "Two realms bleeding into one cup." Isolde stops at the edge of the gazebo. She stares at the center. Aurora follows her gaze. A tear floats in the dead center of the structure. The rift. It shimmers like heat rising off asphalt on a summer day. Through the distortion, glimpses of an alien landscape emerge. Sprawling vineyards stretch to the horizon. Manicured, rigid rows of black-leafed vines dominate the hills under a massive, permanent amber sun. The heart of Dymas. "The entrance exacts a toll." Isolde points to a bronze basin sitting in front of the shimmering distortion. Inside the basin rests a dozen tarnished silver forks and a pile of ash. Aurora steps near the rift. The heat rolls off the distortion in brutal waves, carrying the agonizing scent of caramelized sugar and roasting spices straight into her lungs. Her jaw tightens. The hunger strikes her core again, demanding she step through to the eternal feast. She shifts her grip on the Fae-forged dagger. The freezing moonsilver grounds her mind. The intense chill pushes back the intoxicating warmth of the Gluttony realm. "The Prince of Gluttony sets a heavy table." Aurora stares through the shimmering Veil. Massive shadows move among the manicured vines on the other side. Hulking, misshapen forms dig into the soil, tending the exotic ingredients. Nyx shifts to stand beside her. The Shade's violet eyes flare with an intense, haunting light. "They trade eternity for a taste." The whispery voice skates over Aurora's skin. "An empty bargain."