The storm came without warning.
Thunder cracked like the sky itself was tearing open. Winds howled through the coastal town, bending trees and rattling windows. But it wasn't the tempest that chilled Aria's bones—it was the sudden silence that followed.
She had been asleep when the lights flickered once, twice, then vanished completely. A suffocating darkness swallowed the house, and in the cold hush, Aria stirred.
She called out softly, "Mom? Dad?"
No answer.
Rushing through the dark hallways, she groped along walls and doorframes, heart hammering. The living room was empty. The kitchen — cold, silent. Their bedroom door stood slightly ajar.
Inside, the bed was made. No sign of struggle. No sign of them.
Outside, the storm had ceased as abruptly as it had begun, leaving a strange stillness in the air. But something was wrong—something beyond the storm.
Aria's fingers trembled as she reached for the small, ornate key lying on her father's nightstand. It wasn't just any key. It shimmered faintly, pulsing with an energy she didn't understand.
A sudden whisper seemed to curl in the air, almost inaudible.
"Find the Riftbound…"
And then the house groaned, as if the very fabric of reality had begun to unravel.