The masochists

Elara hit the ground hard. The impact rattled through her bones, but she barely had time to recover before the world around her shifted.

One moment, she was in the crumbling cavern with Rael—the next, the air around her rippled, and the cold stone beneath her feet softened into something else. Sand.

She blinked. The underground ruins were gone. The walls, the sigils, the presence of the Forgotten One—all gone.

Instead, she stood beneath a sky that stretched impossibly far, its surface a swirling mass of violet and black, shifting as if alive. The horizon bled into endless dunes of silver sand, illuminated by twin moons—one cracked down the middle.

This isn't real.

"Elara."

Rael's voice snapped her focus back. He stood beside her, looking equally disoriented. His usual sharp composure was gone—replaced with a wary tension, his crimson eyes darting across their strange surroundings.

"This is bad," he muttered. "Tell me this is just another vision."

Elara touched her temple, expecting the usual static that came with the whispers, but instead, the pendant in her grip pulsed.

Not a vision.

A sudden gust of wind kicked up, shifting the sand beneath their feet. But as Elara looked closer, it wasn't just sand. The grains sparkled, twisting and distorting—fragments of places, people, memories. Glimpses of ruins swallowed by time, faces she didn't recognize, a city burning under a sky that no longer existed.

Rael exhaled sharply. "I don't think we're in Varos anymore."

Elara swallowed hard. Then where the hell are we?

A shadow passed overhead.

Both of them froze.

The presence loomed above them, vast—not just in size, but in weight. The air thickened, pressing down like unseen hands, making it hard to breathe. Elara's skin burned, the sensation not entirely painful but wrong.

Then, the sky itself spoke.

You broke the chains.

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, layered and hollow, like a thousand voices whispering in unison. The ground trembled beneath their feet as the silver dunes rippled outward.

Rael's hand went to his sword, but Elara knew—a blade wouldn't help here.

She clenched the pendant tighter. "Who are you?"

Silence. Then—

The sky ripped open.

A massive figure emerged from the tear, stepping forward with unnatural grace. It was humanoid, but wrong—its limbs elongated, its face obscured by a veil of shifting darkness. But what made Elara's blood run cold were its eyes—

Empty. Endless. Reflecting her own face back at her.

You are the key, it whispered. You are the gate. And now, the door stands open.

A chill sank into Elara's bones.

Rael tensed beside her. "Elara," he said lowly, "we need to run."

The figure moved, shifting across the sands without touching the ground. The weight of its presence crushed the air around them, pulling at the very fabric of reality.

Elara didn't think. She turned and ran.

The world fractured around them. The sky twisted, the ground split apart beneath their feet, and the whispers of the void became deafening. The silver dunes turned to shards of glass, reflecting countless versions of herself—

One standing in the ruins of Varos, a crown of shadows on her head.

One kneeling before the Eclipse Syndicate, blood dripping from her hands.

One standing before the monolith, whispering words she could not understand.

You were here before.

"Elara!" Rael's voice barely reached her through the noise. His hand grabbed hers, pulling her back just as the figure reached for her. The sky collapsed inward, and reality snapped—

She woke with a gasp.

Her lungs burned. The whispers were gone. The void was gone.

She was back in the ruins.

The pendant lay against her chest, pulsing softly.

Rael was crouched beside her, his breathing heavy. His face was paler than she had ever seen it. "Elara. What the hell was that?"

Elara forced herself to sit up, her body aching. "We weren't in the ruins anymore," she whispered. "We were somewhere else."

Rael ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "That thing—"

"I don't think it was a thing." Elara swallowed hard. "I think it was a memory."

Rael's eyes darkened. "A memory of what?"

Elara looked down at the pendant, its glow flickering against her fingertips.

"Not what," she murmured. "A memory of what's coming."