Ariana didn't remember the exact moment she drifted into sleep. The night before had been a blur—shaky breathing, trembling hands, a headache that felt like it was burrowed deep behind her eyes. She had tried to calm herself down, tried to convince her mind to stay quiet for just one night.
But the moment her eyes closed, the world vanished.
And when she opened them again, she wasn't in her room.
She stood barefoot in the center of an endless black void. The ground beneath her feet was smooth, cold, almost liquid-like. Every tiny movement created a faint echo, as if the silence itself had weight.
"Hello?" Ariana called out.
Her voice echoed back in too many layers, bouncing between invisible walls. She wrapped her arms around herself. The air wasn't cold, yet goosebumps rose along her skin.
"Where am I?"
Her question disappeared into the dark.
Then—soft, feminine laughter.
Ariana froze.
She'd heard that laugh before. Sometimes when she was stressed. Sometimes when she was on stage and something inside her took control for a split second. Sometimes when she was about to cry but forced herself not to.
But never out loud.
Never in front of her.
She spun around. "Who's there?"
The laughter came again—closer, warmer, confident. Footsteps echoed behind her, slow and deliberate. Ariana turned toward the sound, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.
Out of the darkness, a figure stepped forward.
A girl.
No—Ariana.
But not really.
The resemblance was perfect: the same eyes, the same hair, the same body. Yet everything else was strikingly different. This version stood taller, shoulders back, head high. Her expression held no fear, only certainty. Her walk was graceful, controlled, almost predatory.
She stopped a few feet in front of Ariana.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Ariana's own voice broke the silence.
"What… are you?"
The girl smiled. A slow, knowing smile.
"I'm you."
Ariana shook her head. "You're not. You can't be."
The girl took another step, her gaze never breaking away. "I'm the part you've tried to suppress. The part you hide. The part you're afraid of."
Ariana swallowed hard. "No…"
"My name," the girl said, "is Nova."
The name vibrated through the void, like the space itself recognized it. Ariana felt a cold shiver run through her chest.
Nova's eyes glowed faintly, not with light, but with intention. With dominance.
"You've been struggling," Nova continued, circling Ariana slowly. "Trying to keep everything together, pretending you're fine when you're breaking inside. You're tired of being scared. You're tired of being controlled by everyone else."
Ariana's breath hitched.
"That doesn't mean I created you."
Nova stopped behind her, leaning close so her breath brushed Ariana's ear.
"Oh, but you did. Every time you felt weak, every time you hated yourself for it… you made me stronger."
Ariana turned, stumbling back. "Stop. Please just stop."
Nova approached her again, calm, patient—dangerous.
"You feel it, don't you?" she whispered. "The shift. The change. The cracks."
Ariana pressed her trembling hands against her temples. She did feel something—like a pulse inside her skull, like static buzzing under her skin. She'd felt it for weeks but ignored it.
Nova reached out and cupped Ariana's chin gently, guiding her gaze upward.
"You're losing control," Nova murmured, "because deep down, you want to."
Ariana slapped her hand away and backed up. "I don't want this! I don't want you!"
"You don't have a choice," Nova said softly, walking closer again. "I'm not a dream. I'm not a hallucination. I'm the version of you that survived everything you couldn't."
A shock of emotion surged inside Ariana—anger, fear, desperation.
"Why are you here?"
Nova placed a hand over Ariana's heart.
"To take my place."
The ground trembled beneath them—slow, deep vibrations like something massive waking up.
Ariana's knees buckled. "No, please… I don't want to disappear."
Nova tilted her head. "Who said you'll disappear? You'll just… rest."
Dark tendrils of shadow began rising from the ground, wrapping lightly around Ariana's ankles, her wrists, her waist. Not painful—just binding. Like they recognized her. Like they were waiting for Nova's command.
Ariana struggled, panic rising. "Let me go!"
Nova's voice softened. "You're exhausted, Ariana. Your mind is fracturing. You don't have to fight anymore."
The tendrils lifted Ariana slightly, pulling her forward until her forehead touched Nova's. A bright white flash exploded behind her eyes. Memories surged—arguments, loneliness, pressure, expectations, guilt. Nova inhaled slowly, as if absorbing every drop of pain.
Ariana screamed, but in the void, her voice sounded distant, fading.
"Stop!" she cried. "You're stealing everything from me!"
Nova whispered, "No. I'm taking the weight you can't carry."
The shadows tightened. Ariana felt her consciousness slipping, draining like water through open fingers. The more she fought, the weaker she felt.
Nova's arms wrapped around her in something that looked like comfort but felt like possession.
"Sleep, Ariana," she whispered. "When you wake up… it won't be you."
The world around them burst into blinding white light.
Ariana opened her eyes.
Except—she wasn't the one who opened them.
She sat up slowly in her bed, breathing calmly. Her gaze drifted to her hands, adjusting to the physical world again. She touched her face, her neck, her chest—curious, almost amused.
Then she smiled.
Ariana's smile was shy, soft, hesitant.
Nova's smile was sharp, elegant, confident.
And that was the smile now stretching across Ariana's lips.
She stood, walking to the mirror. Her movements were different—smoother, controlled, deliberate. She examined her reflection with a gaze that wasn't Ariana's.
At last, she whispered:
"Finally… I'm awake."
The voice was Ariana's.
The soul behind it was Nova's.