Luna's foot crossed the line.
Not on the ground.
In reality.
The moment she stepped forward, the chamber warped violently, stone bending inward like it could no longer agree on its own shape. The air screamed as if it were alive.
"Luna, stop!" Kael shouted.
His voice sounded far away.
Her ears rang.
Her heart did not beat normally anymore.
It pulsed in rhythm with something vast.
The Primordial's gaze deepened, the endless eye widening just enough to swallow more of the world.
Come closer, it said again.
The Devourer roared inside her mind, no longer amused.
Do not obey it!
Luna's hands trembled as she lifted them slowly.
"I don't want this," she whispered.
But her body moved anyway.
Like the moon answering tides it never chose.
Rhea lunged forward, grabbing Luna's arm. "Snap out of it!"
The moment she touched Luna, darkness exploded outward.
Rhea was thrown back violently, slamming into a pillar, coughing blood.
"Rhea!" Kael shouted.
He moved instantly, but the Primordial's gaze locked onto him again.
Reality bent.
Kael froze mid-step, his body caught in an invisible grip.
Luna felt it happen.
Felt the pressure crushing his lungs.
"Stop!" she screamed.
The Primordial tilted slightly, as if curious.
Why?
The question was not cruel.
It was sincere.
Luna's chest burned.
"Because I love him," she shouted.
For the first time, the Primordial hesitated.
The Devourer seized the moment.
Now!
Power surged through Luna, silver light bursting through the black veins. The two forces collided inside her, tearing at each other violently.
She screamed as her body arched backward, feet lifting off the ground.
Kael dropped to his knees as the invisible grip vanished.
The Watcher shouted, "She's destabilizing the convergence!"
Maeven's voice echoed from somewhere behind them. "If she loses control, the seal will invert!"
"What does that mean?" Rhea coughed.
Maeven's answer was barely audible.
"It means she won't be a vessel anymore."
Luna felt the truth before the words fully landed.
The Primordial's voice returned, deeper now.
If you resist, you will become the door.
Her vision fractured again.
She saw herself no longer crowned, no longer worshipped.
She saw herself split open.
A living gateway between worlds.
Creatures pouring through her like water through a broken dam.
Her hands shook violently.
Kael staggered toward her despite the chaos, blood running from his forehead. "Luna, look at me."
She tried.
She really tried.
But the darkness surged again, swallowing the silver light.
The Devourer's voice dropped to a whisper.
If you become the door, I will walk through you. And I won't be alone.
Luna's breath hitched.
The Primordial spoke one final time.
Choose.
The world held its breath.
Luna opened her mouth to answer—
And the ground beneath her collapsed.
Not metaphorically.
Not magically.
Literally.
She plummeted through stone and air and something that felt like frozen time.
Kael's scream echoed above her.
Luna fell.
And fell.
And fell.
Until she landed hard on something that should not exist.
Grass.
Soft. Green. Impossible.
She gasped, pushing herself upright, pain shooting through her ribs.
She was no longer in the chamber.
She stood in a meadow under three moons—one silver, one red, one black as void.
The air tasted like honey and ash.
And standing across the field, watching her with patient eyes, was a figure she recognized.
Herself.
But older. Wiser. Wearing robes that shimmered between light and shadow.
"Welcome to the Between," the figure said softly. "The place where all versions of you meet."
Luna stumbled backward. "This isn't real."
"It's the only thing that's ever been real," the figure replied.
She gestured around them.
Luna's heart stopped.
The meadow was not empty.
Scattered across the grass were other versions of herself.
A child, no more than six, clutching a doll made of moonlight.
A teenager with scarred hands and hollow eyes.
A warrior crowned in silver, blade dripping black.
A corpse, pale and beautiful, flowers growing from her chest.
A monster, all teeth and darkness and hunger.
Dozens of them.
Hundreds.
All watching her.
"Every choice you didn't make," the older Luna said. "Every path you turned away from. Every version of yourself that could have been."
She smiled sadly.
"They're all waiting to see which one you become."
Luna's voice shook. "I just want to be myself."
"Which self?" the figure asked.
Before Luna could answer, the child-version stepped forward.
"Choose me," she said in a small voice. "I'm still innocent. Still safe. Go back to before the binding. Before the pain."
The warrior stepped forward next.
"Choose me," she growled. "Accept the power. Stop running from what you are. Become strong enough that nothing can ever hurt you again."
The corpse sat up slowly, flowers falling from her lips as she spoke.
"Choose me," she whispered. "Let go. Stop fighting. The pain ends when you do."
The monster smiled with too many teeth.
"Choose me," it purred. "Stop pretending. Embrace the hunger. Devour everything that ever made you afraid."
One by one, they all stepped forward, each offering their path.
Luna turned in circles, overwhelmed, drowning in choices.
"I don't know," she gasped. "I don't know which one is right."
"None of them are right," the older Luna said gently. "But one of them is yours."
She extended her hand.
"The question isn't which version of yourself you should become, Luna."
Her eyes—silver and black, just like Luna's splitting irises—held infinite compassion.
"The question is: which version of yourself do you have the courage to create?"
The three moons overhead began to eclipse each other.
Darkness spread across the meadow.
And from that darkness, a new figure emerged.
Tall. Crowned. Eyes like collapsed stars.
The Primordial, manifested in this impossible space.
Time is up, it said.
The other versions of Luna screamed and scattered like frightened birds.
Only the older Luna remained, still holding out her hand.
"Last chance," she said urgently. "Take my hand, and I'll show you the way out."
The Primordial stepped closer.
Or stay, it offered. And finally understand what you were always meant to be.
Luna stood frozen between them.
One hand reaching toward her future self.
One hand drawn toward the ancient entity.
And then she felt it.
A third presence.
Small. Warm. Familiar.
She looked down.
The child-version of herself had crept back, tears streaming down her face.
She wasn't offering a path.
She was just crying.
"I'm scared," the child whispered.
And Luna realized.
She was terrified too.
Terrified of the power.
Terrified of the weakness.
Terrified of every possible future spread before her.
"Me too," Luna whispered back.
The child looked up at her.
"Then what do we do?"
Luna took a shaking breath.
And instead of reaching for the older version of herself, or turning toward the Primordial—
She knelt down.
And pulled the child into her arms.
"We stop trying to be brave," Luna said softly. "And we just be honest."
The meadow went silent.
The older Luna lowered her hand slowly, a strange smile crossing her face.
"Interesting choice," she murmured.
The Primordial tilted its head.
That solves nothing.
"Maybe not," Luna said, standing, the child still clinging to her. "But it's the only choice that feels like mine."
She looked the Primordial in the eye.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to become. I don't know if I'm strong enough to survive what's coming. I don't know if I can save anyone, including myself."
She held the child tighter.
"But I know I'm not giving up my humanity just because it's harder to hold onto."
The Primordial stared at her.
Then, impossibly, it laughed.
Not cruel.
Almost... fond.
You truly are a broken fragment, it said. Still clinging to softness in a universe that has no use for it.
It began to fade.
Very well. Keep your mortality. Keep your fear. Keep your ridiculous hope.
The eclipse overhead began to reverse.
But know this:
Its voice echoed as it vanished.
When your humanity finally breaks—and it will—I will be waiting to catch what's left.
The meadow dissolved.
Luna gasped as she snapped back into her body.
She was still in the chamber.
Still falling.
No.
Being pulled.
The small hand made of moonlight had her ankle in an iron grip, dragging her down through the crack in the floor.
Kael dove after her, his own hand closing around her wrist.
"I've got you!" he shouted.
But the pulling intensified.
Luna looked down into the crack.
And saw what waited below.
Not darkness.
Not void.
A city.
Made entirely of bones and broken moons.
And in its center, sitting on a throne of frozen light.
A small girl.
No older than eight.
Wearing a crown too large for her head.
She looked up at Luna.
And smiled.
"Finally," the child said in a voice that shook the foundations of reality. "Mother's come home."
The pulling became irresistible.
Kael's grip slipped.
Luna screamed his name.
And fell into the city below.