Night fell with an unnatural stillness over the Blue Moon. Gone were the songs of the ether-creatures from the forests, the whispers of stellar winds. Only silence hung thick and heavy, charged with anticipation—a quiet that seemed to smother everything.
Astra walked alone through the glow-lit trees of Neblis Forest, tracing the memorized path to the Lake of Shadows. Her mind swam in a haze—the forbidden manuscript's words clawing at her thoughts, the stranger's face from the reflection burning behind her eyelids, the gnawing certainty that fate was hurtling her toward something… vast.
Astra carried a lunar crystal lantern, its light flickering weakly, as if doubting its own power. But when she reached the lakeshore, she shut it off. No need for light. The lake glowed faintly under its moon's pale glow—as if it had been waiting for her.
The wind died. Not a leaf stirred. The water lay still, yet… it felt alive.
Astra knelt, her fingers barely grazing the surface.
"You're there, aren't you?"
Silence.
Only the thrum of her own pulse echoed in her ears.
Then—the lake's surface rippled. Not violently. Like it had inhaled deeply.
Silver mist coiled up from the lake's heart, swirling and dancing, draping everything in a veil of ghost-light.
The temperature plummeted. The world held its breath.
Astra stepped back. Instinct screamed run. But her legs—stone.
Through the mist and warped reflections… a figure.
It didn't walk. Didn't float. It just… was.
Its presence twisted the air—reality itself fraying at the edges.
It was tall, cloaked in liquid shadows and lights pulsing like dead stars. Its face was unstable—sometimes feminine, sometimes masculine, sometimes something else entirely—unnameable.
A formless entity. An ancient presence.
Astra's body felt… borrowed. Like something else was squatting in her skull.
Then—
The voice.
It wasn't a sound. It was…
Pressure.
Astra's bones vibrated. Teeth rattled.
The words weren't spoken—they were carved.
No lips moved. No sound rippled the air.
The words bloomed inside her skull like poison flowers:
"You've seen too much, daughter of the Blue Moon."
Astra swallowed—ash and bile. She tried to speak. Throat sealed shut.
The figure leaned closer—liquid shadow and dead-star eyes—its reflection warping reality.
"The veil between worlds is rotting. Threadbare as rotten fabric. What you saw… wasn't a glitch."
A pause. The air screamed.
"It was a warning… or a choice."
"Who… are you?" Astra whispered, her voice fraying like old parchment.
The figure's form rippled—shadow and starlight bleeding into each other.
"I am the Keeper of Reflections' Balance. What's been torn apart must stay shattered. What sleeps in the mirrors must never wake."
The mist coiled faster—the lake itself shuddering beneath them.
"Stop chasing him, Astra. Some paths… they'll devour you whole."
"Chasing… who?" Her voice steadied now, iron under the fear.
The name was gone… but the ache of it lingered like a fresh wound.
The figure didn't answer.
The lake churned again—and for a heartbeat, in the water's reflection… eyes. Not hers.
She knew.
He was dreaming too.
The figure dissolved into nothing. Only mist remained, clinging to the air like static hum.
Shaking, Astra sank to her knees. She didn't know if she'd seen a vision or a warning… but in her chest, something shifted.
No longer just curiosity.
This was destiny.
Crackling. Relentless. Hers.
— Rowan - Crimson Moon —
Meanwhile, on the Crimson Moon, Rowan jolted awake.
The air in his room hung thick, suffocating—like an invisible storm had invaded his dream and refused to leave. Everything lay silent, but not the natural kind—this was the silence that claws before chaos.
Wordless, he rose, slung a dark cloak over his shoulders, and left.
His feet carried him—mindless—to the Blood River.
He didn't know what he sought.
Only that he had to return.
The crimson sky cast a dull glow over the river's dark waters, which snaked through the landscape like an open wound.
Thick fog clung to the surface, the sky's reflection distorted—as if hiding another world beneath its veil.
Rowan halted at the shore, breath ragged, heart pummeling his ribs like a war drum.
Then—it happened.
The water stirred—not violently, but with the rhythm of a breath held for centuries. Fog swirled upward, and from the shadows emerged… a figure.
It was the same Guardian… yet not.
Its form differed from what Astra had seen—darker, sharper, defiant. Its face shifted endlessly—masculine, feminine, a faceless mask. But the core—the same.
A voice thundered into his skull:
"You've seen too much too."
Rowan didn't flinch. He stepped closer, eyes blazing with fury… and hunger.
"Who. Are. You."
"The Guardian of Reflections. The line between your dreams… and hers. Between what was… and what should've stayed buried."
Rowan's fists clenched—bone-white.
"Why her? Why me?"
The Guardian didn't blink. Just watched him with eyes shifting color and shape—storm-sky chaos.
"Because you're bound. Because your souls have touched beyond the veil. But they shouldn't."
"What the hell does that mean?" Rowan snarled. "Why's no one talking about this?"
"Because some stories don't get retold. Because there were others before you. And the price—too steep."
Then—visions.
Fire. Ruin. Cracks ripping through both moons' skies. Everything they knew crumbling.
And in the chaos…
Astra's face.
Dissolving into the mist like a forgotten sigh.
The vision dissolved like smoke, but its weight lingered.
"If you cross that line… there's no crawling back."
Rowan lifted his face, locking eyes with the Guardian's ever-shifting gaze. No confusion. No fear in his voice now. Only conviction:
"Then let destiny shatter."
The words hung in the air, vibrating like an echo that refused to die.
The Guardian stared at him—long, silent. Its eyes weren't mirrors… but windows.
Shattered worlds.
Sealed loves.
Futures that shouldn't exist.
Yet it said nothing more.
Just… vanished.
As if it had never existed.
The mist swallowed it whole, draping the riverbank in a supernatural silence—thick, heavy, pregnant with warnings Rowan refused to hear.
A warm wind blew from nowhere, carrying a distant murmur… like an unspoken promise.
Or a curse.
At that same moment, on the universe's other edge—
Astra jolted awake, her chest heaving like she'd sprinted an endless race.
The Lake of Shadows churned in the distance, untouched yet restless.
Rowan jolted awake too—cold sweat slicking his brow, fingers clawed into the sheets like he'd just dropped an invisible blade.
Both sat in the dark. Silent.
They didn't know why… but their hearts hammered in sync.
A certainty swelled in their guts—relentless as a tide no dam could hold.
A truth raw, gnawing, inescapable:
This wasn't over.
The pull between them—
A crackling live wire spanning two worlds.