The Voice Beyond

The air above the Holloway estate thrummed with an unnatural weight, the morning sun dimming as if bowing to the presence of the shadowed figure hovering beneath the rift. Its silhouette was indistinct, a cloak of darkness rippling like liquid night, but its eyes—two pinpricks of searing violet light—burned with an intensity that pinned Elara to the spot. The voice that had whispered in her mind lingered, cold and resonant, its words—"Daughter of Serendel, your awakening has begun"—echoing like a prophecy she couldn't unhear. Her knees trembled beneath her, Vincent's arms the only thing keeping her upright as her pulse hammered in her ears.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice cracking but defiant, cutting through the stunned silence of the garden. The roses around them seemed to wilt under the figure's gaze, their petals curling inward as if shrinking from its power.