The sky above them shifted in slow, surreal waves, casting strange, shifting shadows on the ground. Beneath Aeden and Ryl's feet, the land pulsed with a silent rhythm, an echo of some distant force. They both felt it, though neither spoke of it. The Shifting Horizon had them ensnared.
They stood in a trance-like silence, with names and symbols drifting in and out of Aeden's mind: *The Ever-Falling Star. The Star of Revelation. The Star of Mankind.* Since its first recorded appearance 3,400 years ago, it has shaped humanity, spurring profound leaps forward in technology, knowledge, and survival. Each time it appeared, humanity gained a burst of inspiration, a new strength in its fight against the monstrous forces from the Abyss. These records were the foundation of humanity's history, carved in legends of a world caught in endless war.
But the prophecy hinted at another side, a darker truth buried under centuries of myth: the Ever-Falling Star would one day bring the end of civilization. Most believed it was a fairytale, a cautionary tale told to children to scare them into obedience. And yet, Aeden had seen it in his vision, felt its overwhelming, destructive power—and it was no myth.
"Bullshit," Aeden muttered, his voice tight with frustration.
He began pacing in a tight circle, the communicator clenched in his hand, the vision replaying in his mind. The Council's most guarded prophecy had just come alive before his eyes. But as his shock began to settle, irritation burned in its place. *Why me?* he thought angrily. He was just a historian, not a hero or savior—and certainly not someone prepared to "save" anyone.
He took a long, steady breath, his voice low. "I'm already regretting accepting this assignment."
Ryl's voice broke through his thoughts, dry and sharp as usual. "So, let me get this straight. You're telling me you saw the world come to an end? Whole cities crumbling, rivers boiling… all because of this so-called Ever-Falling Star?"
Aeden threw him an exasperated look, feeling the last traces of awe dissolve into irritation. "I know how it sounds, all right? I'm not exactly thrilled about it either. But it felt real, Ryl. More real than anything I've seen."
Ryl crossed his arms, his tan skin catching the faint, bluish light filtering through the Horizon. His smirk was mocking, with a hint of amusement, as though Aeden's vision were some wild story spun to impress him. "So, what then? Are you the 'chosen one' now? Going to save us all from a falling star?"
Aeden rolled his eyes, Ryl's sarcasm hitting his nerve. "Heroism is the last thing on my mind, trust me. I don't care about saving anyone. I care about staying alive for what little of my life
remains and maybe—*maybe*—keeping whatever's coming from tearing through everything in its path." He gave Ryl a hard look. "If that's too much to ask, feel free to head back."
Ryl raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. "Easy, Galahad. I'm just saying… you sound a little intense about all this. Maybe take a step back, breathe, and remember that these anomalies mess with everyone's head eventually. Visions, whispers—it's all part of the show."
Aeden let out a slow, steadying breath, trying to regain control of his racing thoughts. Part of him wanted to brush it off as another anomaly-induced trick, a fleeting illusion. But he couldn't shake the feeling that this was different, that the vision he'd seen wasn't just some cosmic mirage. "I know they do," he replied quietly. "But I also know when something's real. And this… this wasn't just another trick."
Ryl studied him, his usual humor dimmed. "All right. Let's say you're right. What do you plan to do about it? Run back to the Council and tell them the world's ending?"
Aeden let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, because they'd love that." He forced his voice to stay even, pushing down the frustration simmering inside him. "The Council isn't interested in vague visions or prophecies. They want data, hard proof—things I don't have right now. And honestly, I'm not here to convince people who'd rather ignore what's in front of them. The only reason I care is because…" He glanced around, feeling the subtle pull of the Horizon once again. "…this place seems to be calling the shots now."
Ryl sighed, a note of reluctant agreement in his tone. "Fine. But you still haven't answered my question. Why you? Why would the universe choose you for this nightmare?"
Aeden gave him a sideways glance, a smirk finally breaking through his irritation. "Maybe the universe has a twisted sense of humor. Or maybe it figured a genius like me would at least make things interesting."
Ryl let out a short laugh, but Aeden saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes like he wasn't entirely sure if he was amused or worried. "Yeah, genius. That's what I'd call someone who thinks they can stare down an ancient prophecy."
Aeden shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets as he leaned against a twisted tree whose branches pulsed with an otherworldly glow. "I'm not saying I want any part of this. The idea of being some cosmic hero makes me sick. But the way I see it, if I ignore this, then it's my fault when everything goes to hell. I'll figure out what I can, then leave the rest to the Council… or to anyone who actually wants to believe in 'heroes'. "
Ryl considered him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Fair enough. But if this turns out to be another wild goose chase, I'm reporting the whole thing and pinning it on you. I don't need the Council breathing down my neck."
Aeden smirked, his irritation easing slightly. "Wouldn't expect anything less from you, Ryl."
They moved forward, side by side, deeper into the strange, twisting landscape of the Shifting Horizon. The ground beneath them felt slippery and unstable, as though they were walking on water. Each step took them further from reality, the air thickening with the energy of the anomaly.
"Do you ever think the Council's hiding something?" Aeden asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
Ryl shot him a sidelong glance. "Hiding what?"
Aeden shrugged, carefully picking his way over rocks that shimmered and shifted like glass underfoot. "I don't know. They pour resources into studying anomalies, but when we actually find something significant, they ignore it. They want us to collect data, but not to understand it."
Ryl snorted. "Sounds like you're working up a conspiracy theory."
"Maybe," Aeden replied, his gaze wandering over the twisted landscape. "Or maybe they're just scared."
Ryl fell silent, looking uncomfortable. Aeden could see it in his expression, the way he crossed his arms a little tighter, his smirk fading. Ryl didn't like questioning the Council's authority, and didn't like acknowledging that fear might drive their choices.
They walked on, the light shifting to an eerie blue as the Horizon deepened. In the distance, a dark shape loomed—a massive boulder marked with strange, jagged carvings that seemed almost alive. Aeden felt his fingers tingle as they neared it, his intuition flaring, warning him of something powerful.
Ryl noticed Aeden's expression and frowned. "Are you getting another vision?"
Aeden shook his head. "No. Just… a feeling."
They approached the boulder, and as Aeden reached out to touch its surface, a strange warmth pulsed through his fingers. Images flooded his mind—stars falling, fire and destruction, cities turning to ash, monstrous shapes rising from the abyss. He jerked his hand back, heart pounding, the vision lingering in his mind.
Ryl's skepticism softened slightly, replaced by something close to respect. "All right, Aeden. Maybe you're onto something after all."
Aeden didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He didn't want respect, and he certainly didn't want to be a hero. All he wanted was answers—answers that would let him walk away from this nightmare, if such a thing was even possible.
But as he stood before the ancient stone, he knew that leaving wouldn't be so easy. This was only the beginning, and whether he liked it or not, the Ever-Falling Star was coming. And he had a part to play in it, whether he accepted it or not.