Avery lay in bed, her mind reeling from the events of the day. The group's cheers of approbation, Kalon's wrath, and Lucas's strong safety all played back in her mind, making her restless and disturbed. As her eyelids closed, a profound fatigue drew her beneath, but something remarkable tugged at her, like a darkness creeping into her goals.
She found herself in a dark, infinite region, foreign but frighteningly close. Shadows swirled around her, thick and pushing, as if anticipating something. And then she saw it: a discern emerging from the darkness, her shape equal, her face a twisted reflection of her own.
It became her, but no longer her—a darker version of herself, eyes full of bloodless reason, lips curled into a knowing sneer. The sight sent a kick back into Avery's soul.
"Good day, Avery," the dark figure replied, her voice booming through the empty area. "Did you without a doubt assume you can run from me?"
