The edge of the Veil was not a wall, but an unraveling.
The land beneath their feet frayed like worn cloth, dissolving into mist that shimmered with starlight. Beyond it lay the Astral Fold—a place that was neither sky nor ground, but something between.
Iris felt it before she saw it: a pull in her bones, the steady ticking of the watch in her palm, the low hum of Nyx's mark as it glowed like a living constellation on his back.
Thalen stood a step behind her, sword drawn. "Once we cross, there's no promise we can come back."
"We're already past the point of promises," Nyx said, though his usual grin was gone. His voice was low, almost reverent. "This is the place that's been calling me."
Iris tightened her grip on the watch. "Then let's answer."
They stepped forward together.
The ground gave way with no sensation of falling. One moment, they stood at the cliff's edge; the next, they were walking on nothing—on threads of light that stretched out into infinity.
The Fold unfolded around them.
Stars drifted lazily past, close enough to touch. Islands of rock and crystal floated in the void, tethered by glowing filaments. Rivers of molten silver curved through the air, flowing in impossible arcs.
The air was cold, but every breath felt sharp, alive.
And far in the distance, Iris saw it: a shape too vast to understand, moving slowly in the dark.
The Astral One.
They walked for what felt like hours, though time here meant nothing. The threads beneath their feet shifted constantly, forming bridges between drifting shards of land. Some fragments held ruins—towers twisted into spirals, doorways that opened into other pieces of the Fold, statues with no faces.
Nyx touched one of the statues. His mark flared. "These were people," he murmured. "Fae, maybe. Or something before fae."
"They're echoes," Thalen said, glancing warily at the motionless figures. "The Fold keeps what it touches."
The first danger came quietly.
A shadow passed over them—too large to be a bird, too formless to be a creature. It swirled above before plunging toward them.
The bridge of light beneath their feet buckled as the thing struck, resolving into something almost humanoid but stretched too far, limbs bending wrong. Its face was a blur, shifting between shapes faster than the eye could follow.
Nyx swore. "A Maskspawn."
Iris didn't need to ask where it came from. The Lord of Masks had been here. He'd left pieces of himself behind.
The creature lunged.
Thalen met it with his blade, sparks of starlight scattering in the void. Iris raised the watch instinctively—and it answered. Light poured from it in a beam that struck the Maskspawn, freezing its shifting face for a moment.
It screamed—a sound like breaking glass—and dissolved into dust.
The bridge stabilized beneath their feet.
Iris stared at the watch. The silver etching on its face now glowed faintly, pulsing in rhythm with Nyx's mark.
"That wasn't me," she said.
"Then it was the Heart," Nyx replied. "Or what's left of it."
They pressed on, crossing to a larger island. Here, the air shimmered, and the ground was carved with the same constellation patterns as Nyx's skin.
The pull was stronger now.
At the island's center stood a gate.
It was not built of stone or metal, but of pure light, woven into the shape of a great arch. Within it swirled a darkness full of stars—an entrance into somewhere deeper still.
Nyx stepped toward it, almost entranced. "This is it."
Thalen caught his arm. "Or it's a trap."
"Everything here is a trap," Nyx said, shaking him off. "But it's also the way forward."
Iris felt the truth of it.
The watch ticked faster. Her heartbeat matched it. She could sense something just beyond the arch, something vast and waiting.
But she could also feel eyes on her. Watching from somewhere in the Fold.
And then she saw him.
High above, on a floating shard of stone, the Lord of Masks stood, cloak trailing in the void, mask glinting faintly.
He raised a hand in silent greeting.
Nyx cursed under his breath. "He's been ahead of us the whole time."
"Then he's waiting for us to follow," Thalen said.
Iris glanced at the gate. "If we step through, we go where he's gone. If we stay, we give him more time."
The choice hung heavy in the air.
Nyx looked at her, his expression unusually serious. "We came for answers, Iris. And I think they're on the other side."
Thalen's eyes were dark. "And so is he."
Iris tightened her grip on the watch.
"Then we go through together," she said. "And whatever's waiting… we face it on our terms."
Without waiting for a reply, she stepped through the gate.
The darkness swallowed her.
The world beyond was not the Fold.
It was older.
She stood in a vast hall carved from the bones of something that had once been alive, its ribs arching high overhead. The floor was inlaid with starlight, forming a map of the sky.
And at the far end, on a throne of masks, sat the Lord.
"Welcome," he said, his voice echoing like it came from every corner of the hall. "You've finally come home."