The world around her was a haze of blue light.
Kyra stood barefoot in a field of stars. The ground shimmered beneath her, like glass reflecting the cosmos. All around her was still—silent—except for the sound of her own heartbeat.
Then… she saw her.
The blue-haired woman.
She stood just a few feet away—not with her usual commanding glare or flickering aura of power. This time… she looked soft. Her eyes, usually burning like a storm, now glowed with warmth. Gentle.
"You're finally home," she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Kyra's brows furrowed. "H-Home? What do you mean home? Where are we?!"
The woman tilted her head slightly. "You'll find out… soon enough."
Kyra took a hesitant step forward. "Wait—what does that even mean?"
But the woman didn't answer. Her body began to dissolve into glowing dust, swept away by an unseen wind.
"Wait!" Kyra called out, heart pounding. She broke into a run, reaching out to grab her.
The woman's voice echoed—one last time.
"Right now… you have to… WAKE UP."
Kyra's fingers sliced through nothing.
And then—
She jolted awake.
Kyra's eyes flew open.
She gasped, lungs dragging in cool, unfamiliar air. The scent was strange—like damp stone, herbs, and something faintly metallic. She blinked rapidly, trying to sit up, but her body ached like she'd been dropped from a ten-story building. The last thing she remembered… the alley, the blue light, the whispers—
Where was she?!?
She sat up slowly. The surface beneath her was soft like moss, but cold like marble. Her gaze darted around—arched ceilings with glowing runes, faint blue crystals embedded into dark stone walls, and tall windows that looked out into a world unlike anything she'd seen before. Towers of metal and stone rose in the distance, their silhouettes medieval, but with veins of pulsing light running through them like circuit lines.
"What the hell…" she whispered.
Panic surged in her chest. Her breath quickened. She scrambled to her feet, wobbling as she backed away from the wall. She needed to get out. She needed answers.
That's when she heard the sound.
Footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.
She turned sharply.
A cloaked figure stepped into view.
Her blood froze. Her breath caught. The cloak was familiar—too familiar. This person had been there last night. One of the two
She backed away, hands trembling, eyes scanning for anything to use as a weapon. A shard of crystal, a sharp edge—anything. Her heart pounded like a war drum.
The figure raised a hand. Not in threat, but in surrender.
Kyra didn't relax. Not even a little.
Then, with deliberate slowness, the figure lowered the hood.
A girl.
Young. Around Kyra's age. Her face was delicate, innocent, framed by cascading black silk hair that fell down her back like a shimmering waterfall. Her eyes were a vibrant green—unnaturally bright, almost glowing. She smiled gently, but not mockingly.
"Hello, Kyra," she said, her voice like wind through chimes—soft, musical, unsettlingly calm. "My name is Merena. And I'll be your guide… in Mexona."
Kyra blinked, heart still racing
. 'Mex… what?!'
The girl chuckled, as if reading her confusion. Maybe even her thoughts.
"There's no need to be afraid," Merena said, tilting her head. "If I wanted to harm you… I would have done it while you were unconscious."
Kyra narrowed her eyes. Her fists clenched. As much as she hated to admit it, the girl was right.
"Then why am I here?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended. "And what do you want with me?"
The smile on Merena's face faded.
Her expression grew serious—dead serious. The shift was so sudden it made Kyra's stomach flip.
"You're here to help us," she said quietly. "To help us take back what once was ours."
Kyra stared at her, stunned. What the hell was that supposed to mean?
—
Elsewhere…
A goblet of bloodwine crashed into the wall, staining the stone with crimson.
"Useless!" the Queen roared, rising from her throne. Her silver robes billowed around her like storm clouds, her pale eyes glowing with fury. "She got away. She got away! And none of you incompetent wretches stopped her?!"
The guards didn't speak. They barely moved.
She stood in the center of the hall, panting, until a voice cut through the silence—smooth, wicked, and feminine.
"My Queen."
A silhouette emerged from the shadows, stepping into the flickering torchlight. Long golden hair spilled down her back like liquid fire. Her eyes—sharp, feline, the color of pitch—glinted with mischief. She wore a bodysuit laced with silver threads, every step radiating dangerous grace.
She bowed low, lips curled into a smirk.
"I'm here to serve you."
The Queen's gaze narrowed.
"Zyra."
"She couldn't have escaped alone," Zyra said. "Someone helped her. Someone… from the inside."
The Queen's fury dulled, replaced by cold calculation.
"Send tracers to the human realm," she said slowly. "Examine the breach. Sweep the country. I want every corner of that world turned over. Find the seal. Find the girl."
"Yes, my Queen." Zyra rose with a smile that bordered on hungry.
Then, with a ripple in the air, a portal opened behind her.
She stepped through without hesitation.
The Queen turned back to her shattered goblet, staring into the bloodwine pooling like a black hole on the ground.
A slow, wicked smile curled her lips.
The hunt had just begun.