The stillness was unnatural.
One moment—blood, moonlight, chaos.
The next, Regina, the three strange girls, and I stood on an expanse of water so perfectly still it might have been glass. Every ripple I expected… didn't exist. Above, the sky flickered like a living tapestry, stars scattered as if someone had spilled sugar over black velvet. My mind caught fragments of patterns, threads of coherence that shouldn't be there—but were.
It was disorienting—like falling without moving.
"Regina!" I called.
She stood a short distance away, calm, curious, as if inspecting a peculiar insect rather than assessing a catastrophic situation.
The three girls mirrored her confusion. The black-haired one clicked her tongue, brushing invisible dust from her skirts.
"What's going on? Even years without using my powers shouldn't cause… this."
She extended a hand to the snow-haired girl—her sister, I presumed—helping her to her feet.
The ashen-haired girl said nothing. Her expression was analytical, cold, almost a mirror of Regina herself.
The water beneath our feet reflected the shifting heavens, kaleidoscopic colors forming and dissolving like living grammar, keeping us tethered. Somehow, we could walk, scoop it, but never sink. It was subtle, invisible—a hand guiding the rules without ever touching us.
I turned to the black-haired girl—the first one to stab her hand into my chest. My brows furrowed.
"What did you do to me? Where are we?"
She chuckled softly.
"Ugh. What an annoying way to brag. We needed an anchor—a host—to tether ourselves to reality. You happened to be… perfect. A soulmate, you could say."
"What nonsense. What happened to my summons?" I demanded.
She offered no answer, only a lazy, amused look that made my teeth grind.
Finally, the silver-haired girl spoke, eyes scanning the strange horizon.
"We don't know where this is. Can't say it's unrelated to us… but it isn't our doing."
"Maybe we should look around?" the snow-haired one suggested.
"Seems endless," Regina said dryly. "I wouldn't recommend wandering. But if one of you wishes to play eager lab rat…"
The black-haired girl laughed, eyes lingering on Regina.
"You seem well. That's good to know."
Then—a voice. Not sound, but presence. My mind made space for words that had always existed, though none had been spoken.
"It seems you three remain unapologetically problematic."
The girls froze. My skin prickled.
"Doing away with you would be of no consequence. You have been stripped of your positions."
Regina and I exchanged a look. Pale faces, different reasons. Its presence was overwhelming—but there was an almost imperceptible stability beneath it, a thread that shouldn't exist but did. It's being corrected, my instincts whispered, though I didn't know by whom.
"No matter. One life, more or less…"
My breath caught.
"I'm going to die again?"
"Wait—you can't just—she did nothing!" Regina's voice cut through the stillness, sharp as steel. "There must be another way."
"Hm. Not bad, child. Speaking at all, in my presence, is impressive."
The pressure eased slightly.
"Very well. I will consider sparing her. But she will take responsibility for you three… if she passes a test."
The voice condensed into a tall, robed figure, plain in appearance, ancient in presence. Its unseen eyes shifted toward the girls.
"I thought some time apart might teach you restraint. Alpha, Mésos, Omega… do you have anything to say for yourselves?"
They remained silent. Alpha—the snow-haired girl—shook her head furiously, eyes squeezed shut.
The entity turned to me.
"Do you like games, Luna?"
I swallowed.
"…What kind of game?"
"Chaos and Order."
Elsewhere
Prince Timothy awoke with the sun, his blonde hair a tousled halo, his mood far from angelic.
The city celebrated. The King proclaimed victory over the undead horde, though Timothy made it clear he considered it no such thing.
Count Aurelius von Edelstein had been told his daughter and maid were presumed fallen in battle. Rose's outrage was immediate; the Count's calm silence more chilling.
The battle site yielded no corpses—only scorched earth and scars.
Captain Rhys recovered from a deep flank wound, saved only by Petra's deflection of a killing blow. Losses had been sustained, but the majority of men survived.
Zoë, uninjured but visibly irritated, sat sipping tea with Quin.
"Who were those with her?" she asked, frustration threading her voice.
"I haven't the slightest idea," Quin replied serenely, polishing silverware. "But we have more immediate matters. School starts soon. We should prepare."
In the council chamber, the King addressed his spymaster, advisors, and a Church representative.
"What were those creatures? And those… girls?"
No one had a proper answer.