Liora felt the world twist sideways. Her scream was swallowed by silence as the portal's light engulfed her completely.
Then—impact.
She hit the ground hard, the air bursting from her lungs. The stone beneath her glowed faintly violet, humming like a living heartbeat. She gasped, staring around.
This wasn't Mars anymore.
The sky was wrong—shifting between red and indigo, like a bruise spread across heaven. Giant rings of stone floated overhead, carved with runes that pulsed in rhythm with the ground.
She pushed herself up, trembling. "Where… where am I?"
No answer. Only the whisper of wind through broken monuments.
Then a voice—soft, female, ancient.
> "The Rift Between Worlds. You shouldn't be here, child of earth and flame."
Liora turned sharply. A woman stood behind her—tall, silver-haired, and dressed in robes that shimmered like oil on water. Her eyes were bright gold, her expression calm but unreadable.
> "Who are you?" Liora demanded, clutching her charm.
> "I am Lysara," the woman replied, her tone gentle. "Watcher of the Rift, keeper of the paths between realms."
She stepped closer. "You are the companion of the Last Descendant, are you not?"
Liora blinked. "Eris… you know him?"
Lysara nodded slowly. "All of creation does. His coming was foretold in the Bells of Origin. But his path is unstable. His light trembles at the edge of collapse."
Liora's heart raced. "Then help me get back to him! Please!"
Lysara's golden eyes darkened. "To return, you must cross the Mirror of Echoes. But beware, for in it, you will face your truest self—and not all who look into it survive."
Liora swallowed hard. Her fear battled her resolve… and resolve won.
She lifted her charm again, and the feathers began to burn with faint silver light.
> "Then show me the way," she whispered.
Lysara smiled faintly. "So be it, mortal of flame. The Rift accepts your courage."
The air shimmered—and before Liora appeared a vast mirror of liquid glass, its surface rippling with shadows and faint whispers of other worlds.