Dance of Shadows

The silence was overwhelming.

Clara lay on a surface that wasn’t quite solid, but not liquid either. It felt like standing on the surface of a frozen lake, except the ice wasn’t cold—it wasn’t anything.

She sat up slowly, her breath coming out in short, shaky gasps. There was no sky above her, just an endless void. No sun, no stars. No walls. Just empty, infinite space.

And yet, she wasn’t floating. She was somewhere.

She pushed herself to her feet and turned in a slow circle. Nothing.

Until she saw the footprints.

A single trail of them, leading away from where she stood.

They weren’t hers.

A Fractured Reality

Clara followed the footprints, each step sending a ripple through the world. It was like walking across a reflection on the surface of water—everywhere she looked, the space around her bent and distorted.

Then—it changed.

The void flickered.

Suddenly, she was standing in a familiar street.

Her street.

But it was wrong.

The buildings were cracked and abandoned, the streetlights flickered erratically, and the air was thick with something unseen but heavy.

Clara swallowed hard. She took a hesitant step forward—

And the world shattered like glass.

She was somewhere else.

Echoes of the Past

Clara blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden shift.

Now, she was in a ballroom.

Chandeliers swayed above her, the crystals catching light from candles that weren’t there. The floor was smooth marble, black and polished, reflecting nothing.

She turned slowly, her pulse quickening.

And then she saw her own reflection—except it wasn’t hers.

It was another version of her. A past self.

The other Clara wore a deep crimson dress, her posture straight, her expression unreadable. She was holding something in her hands—a black feather, slick with an inky substance.

Clara took a step closer, reaching out—

The vision shattered.

She gasped as the scene crumbled around her, dissolving into darkness.

She was nowhere again.

Kael’s Desperation

Somewhere else, Kael was losing control.

They had spent hours—days? Time meant nothing anymore—searching for a way to pull Clara back.

The rift had closed. Clara was gone.

And yet… they refused to believe it.

They stood on a rooftop, staring at the sky, their wings flickering between shadow and light. They knew what had to be done, but it was risky—far beyond anything they’d ever attempted before.

Still, they had no choice.

They clenched their fists, murmuring a phrase they hadn’t spoken in centuries.

The air around them shifted.

And for the first time since Clara disappeared—

The Collector spoke.

“I’d reconsider that, Kael.”

Kael turned sharply, their hands already sparking with chaotic energy.

“Then start talking.”

The Figure in the Void

Clara stood in nothingness, her breathing ragged.

She was alone.

Or so she thought.

Because the moment she turned, she saw someone else standing there.

A figure, cloaked in shadow, neither familiar nor unfamiliar. They stood perfectly still, watching her.

Clara’s throat tightened.

She knew, somehow, that they had been waiting for her.

Slowly, the figure took a step forward.

And then they spoke.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The End of Chapter 8