Night settled gently over the village.
Lantern light glowed in windows. Crickets sang in the grass. Somewhere down the road, someone played a soft, off-key tune on a flute.
Eris sat on the inn's roof, knees drawn up, watching the stars.
They looked… different here.
Quieter.
Like the sky wasn't trying to watch him back.
"You always climb buildings you don't own?"
Eris didn't turn. "You always sneak up on people who can hear heartbeats shift?"
Lysa climbed up beside him anyway, sitting with the ease of someone who'd done this a hundred times.
"Fair," she said.
They watched the sky in silence for a while.
Then—
Eris stiffened.
Lysa noticed instantly. "What?"
"Listen," he said softly.
"I am."
"No… not the night."
She frowned.
Then she closed her eyes.
And listened deeper.
At first there was nothing.
Then—
A pause in the rhythm of the world.
So small it was almost imaginary.
Like the space between two breaths… lasting a fraction too long.
Lysa opened her eyes. "That's not normal."
"No," Eris agreed quietly.
It happened again.
A subtle dip in the natural hum of existence. No sound. No movement. Just… absence.
"Is it dangerous?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Right now?"
"…Not yet."
She exhaled slowly. "I hate 'not yet.'"
Eris stood, scanning the dark horizon beyond the village.
The fields were still. Trees unmoving.
But far in the distance—barely visible against the night sky—a thin vertical shimmer flickered, like heat over stone.
Then vanished.
Lysa saw it too. "What was that?"
"A tear," Eris said.
"In what?"
He hesitated.
"…In what's supposed to be real."
She looked at him. Really looked at him.
"You're not just running," she said quietly. "You're ahead of something coming."
Eris didn't answer.
Because she was right.
Another pause in the world's rhythm.
Longer this time.
The crickets stopped.
The wind stilled.
Even the stars seemed to dim for a single heartbeat.
Then everything resumed.
Too quickly.
Like a lie correcting itself.
Lysa stood. "Okay. I officially don't like the sky anymore."
Eris almost smiled—but his gaze remained fixed on the dark hills.
"It found me again," he said.
"Who did?"
Eris whispered the answer like a truth he wished he didn't know.
"Something that erases places before it enters them."
Lysa was quiet for a long moment.
Then she said, "Good thing you're not alone on this roof, huh?"
Eris looked at her.
She shrugged. "Tomorrow should have options, remember?"
Despite everything—
Eris felt it again.
That impossible thing.
Hope.
Far beyond the hills, reality trembled once more.
And this time—
Something was stepping through.