Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYAXTGVP8NZSXYZEP27ERT5

The air in the Grove was too thick, too sweet with the scent of damp earth and something older—something like rotting honey. Aurora adjusted the strap of her backpack, her fingers brushing the cool silver of the pendant at her throat. The Heartstone pulsed faintly, a warmth against her skin, though the night was unnaturally still. No wind stirred the leaves above, no crickets chirped in the underbrush. Just silence, heavy as a shroud. She had come here because the pendant had led her. It had started the moment she’d stepped into the Grove’s edge, where the standing stones loomed like skeletal fingers against the bruised twilight sky. The silver chain had tightened, pulling her forward before she could resist. Now, standing in the heart of the clearing, she understood why. The trees here were wrong—too tall, their branches twisting into shapes that made her skin prickle. The wildflowers, vibrant and unnatural, clustered in patterns that seemed almost deliberate, like petals arranged in a warning. Aurora exhaled slowly, her breath fogging in the unseasonable chill. She wasn’t afraid. Not yet. But she was *aware*. That was the difference. The kind of awareness that made her pulse quicken, that made her fingers twitch toward the small knife tucked into her boot. She had told no one where she was going. Not even Eva, who would have called her reckless. Not Silas, who would have laughed and said she was asking for trouble. Not the delivery job at Golden Empress, where Yu-Fei would have scolded her for disappearing mid-shift. She had come alone because the pendant had whispered to her—*come*—and she had obeyed. The first wrongness was the sound. A rustle, too close. Too deliberate. Aurora froze, her muscles locking as she turned slowly, scanning the darkness. The Grove was vast, but the trees here were so dense they swallowed sound. She should have heard something. A branch snapping. A breath. Anything. Then—movement. A flicker at the edge of her vision, just beyond the dappled light of the standing stones. She followed it with her eyes, her breath shallow. There. A shape. Tall. Too tall. It shifted, and for a heartbeat, she thought she saw *wings*—not feathers, not skin, but something in between, like stretched silk catching the moonlight. Aurora’s grip tightened on the pendant. The warmth flared, just slightly, as if the artifact itself had sensed the thing watching her. She stepped forward, her boots crunching on dead leaves. The shape didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. It just *was*, standing there like a question she couldn’t answer. “Hello?” Her voice was steady, but her pulse hammered in her throat. No answer. Just the press of something unseen, something *wrong*, pressing against the edges of her perception. She took another step. The air changed then. Not the temperature—no, it was something deeper. The scent of the flowers intensified, sharp and metallic, like iron and crushed berries. Her stomach twisted. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep moving. The standing stones loomed closer. Their surface was smooth, but she could feel the weight of centuries pressing into her skin, like the stones themselves were breathing. She reached out, her fingers brushing the cold bark of an oak. The wood was warm beneath her touch, almost *alive*. A sound then. Not from the trees. Not from the wind. From *behind* her. Aurora spun. Nothing. But the pendant burned against her chest, the warmth spreading up her throat, into her jaw. She could *feel* it, the thing that had followed her. Not a person. Not an animal. Something else. She turned back to the standing stones, her breath coming faster now. The pendant’s glow pulsed, casting long shadows that stretched unnaturally, twisting into shapes that weren’t there. “Who’s there?” she demanded, her voice raw. Silence. Then—a whisper. Not from the wind. Not from the trees. From *inside* her. *Aurora.* The name was spoken in a voice that wasn’t hers, that slithered into her mind like smoke. She stumbled back, her heel catching on a root. She barely caught herself, her hands pressing into the damp earth. The pendant flared, the warmth turning to heat, searing against her skin. She ripped it off, clutching it in her palm. The glow was brighter now, casting eerie light on the clearing. The trees seemed to recoil, their branches twisting away from her. “What do you want?” she snarled, her voice breaking. The whisper came again, louder this time, vibrating in her skull. *You don’t belong here.* Aurora’s breath hitched. She knew that wasn’t true. She had come here. The pendant had led her here. But the voice was right about one thing. She didn’t belong. The ground trembled beneath her feet. Not an earthquake. Something else. A shift in the earth, like the Grove itself was *breathing*, expanding, swallowing her in. Aurora ran. She didn’t look back. She didn’t dare. The pendant burned in her hand, the heat searing her skin, but she didn’t let go. She ran through the underbrush, her boots sinking into the damp earth, her lungs burning. The trees loomed around her, their branches clawing at the sky, their leaves whispering secrets she didn’t want to hear. She burst into the open, gasping, her heart hammering in her chest. The Grove was behind her now, the standing stones shrinking into the distance, their glow fading like a dying ember. She was safe. She was— A hand clamped over her mouth. Aurora screamed, her body jerking as she was yanked backward. She twisted, her elbow slamming into something solid. Pain exploded up her arm, but she didn’t stop fighting. She kicked, her boot connecting with a ribcage. A gasp. A curse. Then—darkness. The last thing she saw was the pendant, still glowing faintly in her hand, as the world swallowed her whole.