Run: 2026-05-22-01KS866E2TZ9S75MYRG0WH81GA

Aurora pushed aside a heavy branch of hawthorn and stepped between the ancient oak standing stones. The ambient hum of London traffic vanished. A thick, ringing silence swallowed the night. She blinked against the drop in air pressure. Her ears popped. She pulled the silver chain from beneath her denim jacket. The Heartstone pendant rested against her sternum. The thumbnail-sized crimson gem throbbed against her skin, radiating a steady, rhythmic heat. It pointed her deeper into the clearing. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, illuminating the Fae Grove. Pale wildflowers carpeted the forest floor, their petals wide open despite the midnight hour. White bluebells and ghost-orchids swayed in a wind Aurora could not feel. She checked her wristwatch. The second hand twitched, ticked backward three spaces, and stopped dead. She pulled out her phone. The screen displayed zero bars. She tapped the glass, refreshing the connection. The signal remained empty. She dialed Silas. The phone pressed against her ear. A steady, rhythmic clicking filled the speaker. It matched the pulse of the Heartstone. She hung up. She dialed Eva. The ringing tone stretched, warping into a low, drawn-out groan before the call dropped. A twig snapped behind the nearest oak trunk. Aurora pivoted. She kept her weight balanced on the balls of her feet. Her bright blue eyes scanned the deep shadows between the trees. Nothing moved. She rubbed the small crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist. A nervous habit. She forced her hand down to her side. The crimson gem against her chest flared with a sharper heat. A Hel portal was close. The unknown benefactor who mailed the artifact warned her about the cold spots, but this felt like a fever. She took another step forward. The soil beneath her boots felt spongy, like walking on a lung. She knelt and touched the dirt. The ground yielded to her fingertips, warm and damp. A faint scent of copper and crushed mint rose from the soil. The Fae realm bled into the physical world here, warping the natural order. Time moved differently in the grove. An hour inside could mean minutes or days outside. She needed to find the portal and leave before the sun rose in the real world. A low hum vibrated through the soles of her shoes. It rattled her teeth. The wildflowers nearest to her feet began to close their petals, shrinking away from the centre of the grove. Aurora adjusted her grip on her phone. She opened the voice memo app and hit record, holding the microphone near her mouth. I am inside the Richmond grove. The time dilation is active. My watch stopped. The pendant is burning. If I do not check in by three in the morning, send Silas. Tell him to bring the iron crowbar. She stopped the recording. The playback button glowed on the screen. She pressed it. Her own voice echoed from the tiny speaker, but the words were wrong. I am inside the dirt. The time is dead. My heart stopped. The earth is hungry. If I do not wake up, send the crows. Tell them to dig. Aurora crushed the phone in her hand. The screen cracked under her thumb. She shoved the device into her pocket. The hum grew louder. It shifted pitch, mimicking the cadence of human breathing. Inhale. Exhale. The sound originated from the canopy above. She tilted her head back. The oak branches wove together in a dense lattice. Moonlight caught the edge of something pale wedged in the fork of the highest bough. It looked like a shed skin, translucent and shimmering. A drop of thick, viscous fluid struck the toe of her boot. Aurora stepped back. The fluid sizzled against the leather, eating through the material with a sharp hiss. She kicked the boot off and hopped backward, landing in a patch of crushed ferns. The pendant seared her skin. She gasped and grabbed the silver chain, pulling the gem away from her chest. The crimson stone glowed with a blinding inner light, casting long, warped shadows across the tree trunks. The shadows did not match the trees. The silhouettes stretching across the bark possessed too many joints. Long, spindly limbs bent at angles that defied anatomy. The shadows twitched in unison, shifting closer to her position. Aurora backed toward the standing stones. Her bare left foot sank into the damp earth. The soil felt warm. It pulsed in time with the Heartstone. She reached the boundary line marked by the ancient oaks. The air pressure pushed against her, a physical wall of resistance. She shoved her shoulder into the invisible barrier. It felt like pressing against a mattress. She pushed harder. The barrier rippled, showing a distorted reflection of her own face. Her bright blue eyes looked back at her, but the reflection blinked out of sync. The reflection smiled, revealing teeth that were too sharp. Aurora stumbled backward, breaking contact with the invisible wall. A voice drifted from the centre of the grove. It carried the exact timbre of Evan, her ex-boyfriend. You always run away, Rory. Aurora froze. Her jaw clenched. Evan was in London. He could not cross the boundary into a Fae-touched realm. The magic would reject his mundane blood. You left your things at the flat. You left me. The voice lacked inflection. It sounded like a recording played through a blown speaker. The cadence was flat, mechanical. I found your new keys. I found your new friends. Aurora turned back to the clearing. The shadows on the trees detached themselves from the bark. They peeled away from the wood, becoming three-dimensional voids that absorbed the moonlight. They glided over the wildflowers, leaving trails of blackened, withered stems in their wake. The wildflowers nearest to the voids turned black and crumbled into ash. The year-round bloom of the grove died in seconds, leaving barren patches of scorched earth. The temperature plummeted. Frost crept over the roots of the ancient oaks, cracking the bark with sharp pops. She gripped the Heartstone. The heat blistered her palm. She kept her fingers locked around the silver chain. Come back to the centre. The Evan-voice distorted, dropping three octaves into a guttural vibration that shook the leaves from the branches. The voids circled her, keeping a ten-foot distance. They lacked faces, but the air rippled where their eyes should be. The smell of ozone and rotting meat flooded the grove. A wet, heavy footstep sounded on the spongy soil behind her. The sound was followed by the distinct click of a joint popping into place. Aurora held her breath. The heat of the pendant spread up her arm, burning her veins. The entity standing behind her exhaled, sending a wave of freezing air over her neck.