Run: 2026-02-25-01KJBDWQ1VK5V4J98D61N7QA3Y

Rory navigated the dense undergrowth of Richmond Park. The city lights faded behind her. The streetlamps gave way to darkness. She reached the standing stones. Ancient oak trunks fused into the earth. They marked the boundary. The air grew heavy. The smell of damp soil mixed with something sweet, like rotting lilies. She stepped into the clearing. The wildflowers bloomed in full color. Blue, yellow, red. They shouldn't grow in December. The sky above held no stars. A grey mist hung low. Her hand went to the silver chain. The Heartstone pressed against her collarbone. It burned. The heat spread down her chest. She pulled the pendant out. The crimson gem pulsed. A rhythmic throb. Like a heartbeat. She looked around. The trees stood too still. No wind moved the leaves. The silence pressed against her ears. A cricket chirped. Then stopped. She walked toward the center. The grass felt soft, almost like moss. Her boots sank slightly. She lifted her foot. The ground didn't spring back. It stayed depressed. A twig snapped. She froze. Her left hand tightened. The scar on her wrist pulled. A tight band of white skin. She ignored the sting. "Hello?" Her voice sounded flat. It didn't echo. The sound died in the air. Nothing answered. She turned in a circle. The stones formed a perfect ring. The flowers watched her. She knew the flowers didn't move. She knew the wind didn't blow. Yet the petals shifted. A ripple moved through the bluebells. She gripped the pendant. The heat spiked. Pain shot through her fingers. She dropped the gem back against her skin. The mist thickened. It curled around her ankles. Cold dampness soaked her trousers. She pulled her legs up. The mist didn't recede. It climbed. A shadow detached itself from the oak on her left. It stood too tall. It had no face. Just a void where features should be. Rory backed away. Her heel caught a root. She stumbled. She caught herself on a stone. The bark felt warm. Alive. The shadow didn't move. It waited. She scanned the perimeter. Another shadow. Then another. They stood between the stones. They blocked the path back to the park. She looked at the pendant. It glowed brighter. The crimson light cut through the mist. The shadows flinched. She took a step forward. The ground shook. A low rumble vibrated through the soles of her boots. The shadows stepped closer. They didn't walk. They flowed. She raised the pendant. The light intensified. The heat singed her fingers. The shadows stopped. She held her breath. Her lungs burned. The air tasted like copper. One shadow tilted. It mimicked her posture. She lowered her hand. The light dimmed. The shadows surged. She ran. She didn't look back. The flowers brushed her legs. They felt like fingers. Cold, grasping. She reached the stones. She pushed through the brambles. The thorns tore her skin. Blood welled. She didn't stop. She burst into the park. The night air hit her face. Cold. Clean. Real. She leaned against a tree. Her chest heaved. She checked the pendant. It lay cold against her chest. She looked back at the Grove. The mist had vanished. The stones stood silent. She turned away.