The Great Sundering

Lucy stared at her reflection for a long time.

The cold water dripped down her chin and neck, soaking the front of her tank top, but she didn't care. She leaned over the sink, gripping the edge tightly as if bracing herself against a memory that didn't want to stay buried.

"That couldn't have been real," she whispered.

The bathroom light flickered once, then steadied again. She glanced up, half-expecting something—anything—to happen. But nothing did. No golden eyes. No glowing air. No strange voices whispering from the shadows.

Just her. Tired, messy, confused.

She let out a long breath and turned off the tap, grabbing the towel and drying her face.

"Dreams aren't real," she told herself more firmly now. "Just a dream. A messed-up, vivid dream."

Still, the image of her younger self floating, screaming, eyes glowing gold—it clung to her like fog that wouldn't lift. Lucy had never believed in magic or anything supernatural. No one did anymore.

The world didn't work that way.

Sure, there were always conspiracy theorists rambling online about ghosts or ancient tech from before the Sundering.

But real magic?

It had never existed.

No news, no science journal, no eyewitness ever confirmed something like that. It was the stuff of old books and childhood stories.

And besides, if magic had ever been real, it would've shown up during the Great Sundering.

That was the only time in history when the world had truly changed overnight.

Seven quakes. Seven days. Cities swallowed by the earth, skies turned red, oceans shifting their tides like they'd gone mad. Billions died, and the survivors barely clung on. But even then, no one could say why it happened. No records. No warning. No cause.

Just silence.

And the survivors? They didn't talk much about it. Most of the ones who had lived through those days were either gone now… or too broken to explain what they'd seen.

Lucy wasn't born yet when it happened, but her father was. He'd never spoken about it.

Not once.

She sighed and shook her head. "Whatever. It's too late to be thinking about this."

Back in the bedroom, the clock on her wall blinked softly—3:12 a.m. Outside, the streets were silent. The city, for once, seemed still.

Mochi remained curled up in the blanket, his tiny black ears twitching slightly with each breath. He looked so peaceful that Lucy couldn't help but smile despite the strange unease in her chest.

"Just a dream," she said one last time, convincing herself. "I'm probably just stressed. School. Dad. Everything."

She climbed back into bed and slid under the covers, pulling them up to her chin. Her body still felt cold, but the warmth of the blankets helped. The quiet of the room slowly wrapped around her like a cocoon.

Her eyes drifted shut.

And just like that, she missed it.

A soft ding—silent to the ear, visible only to the unseen.

Floating in the air above Mochi's head, a faint blue light blinked to life. It shimmered once, then revealed a simple glowing message, flickering like a hologram that shouldn't exist in this world.

[Transition State: 71%]

[Estimated Time Before Awakening: 13 Days, 4 Hours, 16 Minutes]

***