The sky was never meant to bleed.Yet on the morning of Elira's sixteenth birthday, crimson streaks tore across the heavens like fresh wounds.
People in the small coastal town of Arven rushed into the streets, pointing, praying, cursing. The sea churned unnaturally, waves crashing against the docks as if something enormous stirred beneath.
Elira stood barefoot on the wet sand, her school uniform damp, her long hair whipped by the salt wind. Unlike the others, she didn't scream. She only whispered, almost in awe:
"It's calling me."
From the sky, a fiery fragment broke loose and plummeted into the sea with a deafening roar. Steam erupted. The ground trembled.
Everyone fled. Everyone but her.
Elira's eyes glowed faintly—not with reflected firelight, but with their own inner brilliance.
Because Elira wasn't an ordinary girl.And the thing that had fallen from the heavens… wasn't a star.