Fiore spun around as her surroundings dissolved into a blinding white. The floor beneath her feet was no longer solid—she was standing on what seemed to be a body of water, yet she remained above it, walking effortlessly across the liquid surface. The air was cool and still, the world around her eerily silent.
A figure appeared before her, a woman dressed in a flowing yellow gown that shimmered as it moved, though the dress didn't ripple or sway as it should have. It moved in strange, unnatural ways, like light trapped in fabric. Fiore’s breath caught in her throat.
“Mother?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
But the woman’s face was emotionless, devoid of warmth or recognition. Her eyes, though resembling her mother’s, were empty, like glassy mirrors reflecting nothing.
“I’m afraid
