In the soft stillness of the morning, buried beneath layers of silence and filtered sunlight pouring through expensive glass, Pandora stirred.
It wasn't a normal wake-up. It was abrupt—like her soul got yanked out of a deeper realm and slammed back into her body. Her eyes shot open, wide and glowing faintly, pupils dilated like something ancient had just whispered her name in a language older than gods. Her breath hitched. Her entire being trembled—not in fear, but in recognition.
She knew what had just happened. She didn't have the words yet, but her bones remembered. Her power did.
She slipped out of bed, barefoot on the cold floor, heart drumming like a countdown clock had just started.
Outside, in the open-plan condo kitchen, Sarah and her younger sister were halfway through making breakfast. Soft chatter. The smell of coffee and eggs. Normal shit. Domestic peace.
But it shattered the second Pandora walked in.
