The moment Aria stepped past the threshold of the Veil Gate, everything changed.
The world tilted.
Time stretched.
Light folded into shadow.
The forest on the other side wasn’t dead—just older. Trees groaned as if bearing secrets too ancient for mortal ears. The air tasted like iron and memory. Every step felt like walking across someone else’s dream, the kind that clung to your skin long after waking.
She didn’t come alone.
Riven walked silently at her side, his expression unreadable beneath the dark hood pulled over his silver-streaked hair.
“You’ve only crossed once,” he said softly, eyes flicking to the strange fog curling around their boots. “This time, you stay too long… you might not come back the same.”
Aria didn’t slow. “I already don’t feel like myself.”
The ground slope
