The shattered realm

Lysandra hit the ground hard.

For a moment, she couldn't breathe. The air was thick and suffocating, pressing down on her like unseen hands. Shadows curled around her, shifting and twisting as if they were alive.

She forced herself up, her claws digging into the cold earth. But this wasn't the Wilds anymore.

It wasn't anywhere she recognized.

The sky above her was fractured splintered like broken glass, shifting between colors that made no sense. The ground beneath her felt unreal, shifting as she moved. She glanced down, only to see her own reflection staring back at her from a smooth, obsidian surface.

Except… it wasn't her.

The reflection was darker, the golden glow in its eyes replaced with a deep, hungry red. Its lips curled into a smirk she hadn't made.

Lysandra's stomach twisted.

"Not real," she muttered, shaking her head. "This isn't real."

But the reflection didn't disappear. It just watched her.

Then, it spoke.

"You're running out of time."

Lysandra's blood turned cold.

She staggered back, only to hear footsteps behind her. Spinning around, she saw him.

The prince.

But something was wrong.

His mask was cracked. His form flickered, shifting between solid and shadow. And when he looked at her, his eyes weren't the same piercing silver they had always been.

They were gold.

Like hers.

"Lysandra." His voice was strange—layered, like the man from before. Like the god. "Do you know where you are?"

Lysandra's claws flexed. Her instincts screamed at her to run, to fight—but there was nowhere to go.

She swallowed. "No."

The fractured prince tilted his head. "You are inside the curse."

Lysandra's breath caught.

"What?"

He took a slow step forward. "You are not in the Wilds anymore. You are in the place where curses fester."

Lysandra's mind raced. This wasn't real it couldn't be real. And yet, everything around her felt too sharp, too vivid. The weight of the air, the flickering shadows, the reflection that still watched her with those hungry red eyes—

Her pulse pounded.

"How do I get out?" she demanded.

The fractured prince smiled.

"You don't."

Lysandra lunged.

Her claws slashed through the air but the moment they should have hit, the prince's form rippled, like water disturbed by a stone.

She stumbled forward, barely catching herself before she fell. Her breaths were ragged, her pulse too fast.

The fractured prince's voice echoed around her.

"You cannot fight a curse."

Lysandra's hands curled into fists. "Then I'll break it."

The laughter from before returned deeper, richer, as if it had been waiting for her to say those words. The fractured world around her shook, shadows unraveling at the edges.

The reflection beneath her smirked wider.

"Then prove it."

And suddenly, the ground collapsed beneath her.

Lysandra plunged into the abyss.