The soft sound of the alarm clock broke the silence in the room, and Brana, still wrapped in his sheets, reached out to turn it off. Morning light spilled into the space through partially drawn curtains, illuminating the instruments and equipment scattered around. Stretching, he felt his body slowly awaken, as if recharging after the tranquility of the previous night.
Still groggy, Brana got up, traded his pajamas for light training clothes — a comfortable white t-shirt and gray shorts — and put on his headphones, connecting them to his music player. A gentle melody from one of his favorite playlists began to play as he laced up his sneakers. Morning walks had become part of his routine, both on the doctor's recommendation and for the peace the habit brought him.
Leaving his room, he quietly descended the stairs, passing through the hallway where the distant sound of footsteps suggested Phil was already up. The house felt calm at that hour, with Luma likely still asleep. Brana opened the front door and was greeted by the fresh morning air, carrying the scent of damp grass and flowers from the garden.
The sky was clear, painted in pale blue hues that heralded a sunny day. He walked toward the front gate, adjusting his headphones as the rhythm of the music intensified. The sounds of nature around him blended subtly with the melody — birdsong, the gentle rustle of trees, and the distant murmur of a stream.
Brana followed the stone path leading away from the house, surrounded by tall trees and bushes that formed a natural corridor. The path ended at a clearing he liked to visit, a secluded spot offering a wide view of the surrounding landscape. Walking at a steady pace, he breathed deeply, using the time to organize his thoughts.
As he moved along, he noticed something unusual. The leaves on some nearby trees appeared slightly discolored, glowing faintly green as they reflected the sunlight in a peculiar way. He stopped for a moment, pulling out one of his earbuds to get a closer look. It wasn't something he remembered seeing before.
"Is it just a trick of the light?" he murmured to himself, but a faint unease settled in his chest. Something about that sheen felt... out of place, as though it didn't belong there.
Continuing down the path, he passed a small stream. The water flowed clear, but as he bent down to splash his face, he noticed a thin layer of sparkling particles floating on the surface, like stardust scattered across the current. Brana frowned, observing it for a moment. There was no smell or any indication of pollution, but the particles seemed alive, dancing with the movement of the water.
Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought. Maybe it's just something natural I never noticed before, he reasoned, resuming his walk.
A few minutes later, Brana reached the clearing. The space was wide and surrounded by tall trees, the ground covered with dense, soft grass. In the center, a large, flat rock served as an improvised bench where he often rested.
Turning off his music, Brana approached the rock and sat down, gazing at the horizon. The clearing offered an open view of distant hills and mountains. For a moment, he simply sat there, absorbing the tranquility of the place. The wind rustled the treetops, its sound echoing like a natural melody.
However, something about the view unsettled him. The horizon, usually calm and unchanging, held a faint glow, almost imperceptible — a pulsating line of light in the distance. It was subtle but unlike the usual brightness of the sky. A chill ran down Brana's spine.
He tried to ignore the feeling, but the light seemed to flicker slightly, drawing attention before fading back to its faint luminosity. It was almost as if it were calling out, though Brana couldn't understand why.
"Maybe it's just my mind playing tricks on me," he muttered, trying to push away the unease. Even so, the image lingered in his thoughts as he stood up to head back home.
The return journey felt quicker, but the peace Brana had felt earlier was replaced by a mild discomfort. Passing the stream again, he noticed the sparkling particles still there, now appearing slightly more concentrated.
As he neared the final stretch of the trail, close to the house gate, he saw a flock of birds flying above the trees. It was unusual for so many birds to be together at that hour, but what caught his attention most was the direction they were heading: all seemed to be flying toward the horizon, where he had seen the glowing light.
Brana paused, watching the birds disappear into the sky. Something was definitely strange, though he couldn't pinpoint what.
Despite the unease, Brana tried to dismiss the odd thoughts. After all, the day was only just beginning.
Upon reaching the house, Brana entered the quiet hall, feeling the fresh air mixed with the faint aroma of garden flowers left behind. He walked slowly through the well-lit corridors, climbing the stairs toward Luma's room. The sound of his footsteps seemed louder than usual in the morning silence.
Opening his sister's door, Brana found Luma curled up under the sheets, murmuring something in her sleep. He stepped closer, leaning in to listen. His heart ached as he realized she was calling for their parents.
"Papa... Mama... come back..." Luma murmured, her voice soft and filled with longing.
Brana felt the weight of the moment but quickly composed himself. He knew Luma had a fragile relationship with their parents' absence, even though she tried to stay cheerful and optimistic. With a gentle touch, Brana placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her lightly.
"Luma, it's time to wake up," he said softly.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly, blinking against the morning light. When she saw Brana, she smiled, though he noticed the trace of melancholy in her gaze.
"Good morning," she said, stretching her arms as she yawned.
"Good morning, sleepyhead. Come on, breakfast won't make itself," he replied, helping her out of bed. "How about you help me today?"
In the kitchen, Brana began organizing ingredients for breakfast. He laid out fruits, eggs, and bread, while Luma, still half-asleep, busied herself with setting up bowls of cereal.
"Brana, can I make the pancakes today?" she asked, holding the mixing bowl.
He raised an eyebrow, feigning doubt. "You think you're ready for that mission? Pancake-making is an art."
"Of course I'm ready!" Luma replied, her determination exaggerated.
They laughed as they worked together. Brana corrected Luma's clumsy movements at the stove while she proudly insisted on doing as much as possible herself. When they finished, they sat together at the table to enjoy their breakfast.
After eating, the two spent some time in the garden, drawing and talking about the little adventures Luma imagined. It was a simple moment, but Brana always made a point of prioritizing it. When it was time to go their separate ways for individual activities, Luma returned to her room while Brana headed to the house's library.
The library was spacious and well-lit, with dark wooden shelves filled with books that seemed never to have been read. Brana selected a few titles on geography and science, though what truly captivated him were the music scores. He spent hours alternating between studying and practicing music, his fingers gliding over the keyboard in a quiet corner of the room.
The gentle sound of music filled the space, bringing a sense of peace that lasted until the moment he felt the first tremor.
The keyboard let out a distorted sound as the ground trembled violently beneath Brana's feet. He froze for a moment, feeling the impact of the vibrations that rippled through the floor like waves. A painting fell from the wall with a crash, causing him to instinctively step back. The next tremor was stronger, shaking the furniture around him and sending books tumbling from the shelves. A deep, continuous rumble, like distant thunder, seemed to echo throughout the house.
"Luma!" Brana shouted, leaping to his feet.
He sprinted through the hallways, feeling the vibrations intensify with each step. When he reached his sister's room, he found her huddled in the corner, clutching a pillow tightly. Her wide eyes brimmed with fear.
"Brana! What's happening?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"I don't know, but we need to get out of here now," he replied, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the door.
As they descended the stairs, the sound of shattering glass and falling furniture filled the air. Outside, the garden looked different. Trees leaned unnaturally, as if being pulled by an invisible force. Animals darted in every direction, and the sky… the sky was splitting.
Bright, glowing cracks appeared in the heavens, as if the sky itself were a massive sheet of glass being shattered. The intense light pouring from the fissures stung Brana's eyes. He and Luma ran toward the open field for a clearer view of what was happening.
"Brana… the sky… it's breaking," Luma whispered, her breath catching.
Birds were in chaos, flocking together and flying straight toward the glowing fissures. The deafening sound of tremors mixed with the frantic cries of animals, creating a symphony of panic.
Brana held Luma tightly as they ran toward the open field, his heart pounding with the urgency of the moment. Behind them, the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass echoed as the house succumbed to the chaos. The earth quaked violently, and the cracks in the sky expanded, releasing beams of golden light that seemed to pierce the very fabric of reality.
The once-familiar landscape around them transformed. Towering trees stretched unnaturally skyward, their glowing leaves shimmering like embers. The ground beneath their feet pulsed faintly with hues of blue and green, as if alive with some mysterious energy. The air was dense, tinged with an unfamiliar metallic scent that mingled with the earthy aroma of the forest.
"Miss Luma, Master Brana, stay together!" Phil's voice cut through the chaos. He stood not far away, his usually composed demeanor faltering as he gazed up at the sky. His tone was firm, but a note of desperation slipped through.
Luma clung to Brana's arm, her wide eyes fixed on the glowing cracks. "Brana… what's happening? Is the sky… going to fall?"
"I don't know, Luma, but stay close. I won't let anything happen to you," Brana reassured her, his voice steady despite the terror surging within him.
The ground trembled again, but this time it felt different. Instead of simple vibrations, the earth began to rise and fracture as if reshaped by an unseen force. Entire trees were uprooted and lifted into the air, slowly floating toward the cracks in the sky, drawn by an incomprehensible power.
A brilliant light enveloped the field, and the animals, which had been scattering in all directions, were now being pulled upward. Birds, insects, and even small mammals disappeared into the radiant beams, their silhouettes vanishing into the golden glow.
"Brana! The house!" Luma cried, pointing behind them.
Brana turned just in time to see their home begin to disintegrate. Bricks, windows, and even the furniture floated upward, as if dismantled piece by piece. The garden was no exception; bushes and flowers were torn from the ground, the soil itself fragmenting and lifting into the air.
Phil looked at Brana, his eyes heavy with regret and resignation. "Master Brana… take care of her," he said, his voice steady despite the inevitable. Moments later, he was pulled skyward along with the house staff, their screams fading as the golden light consumed them.
Brana barely had time to process what he had just witnessed. He clutched Luma tightly, feeling the pull of the same invisible force lifting his own feet off the ground.
"Don't let go of my hand, Luma!" he shouted, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his chest and the growing emptiness around him.
"No!" Luma cried, struggling to run toward the spot where Phil had been, but Brana held her back.
"Luma, no! There's nothing we can do now. We have to hold on!" He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her protectively as he felt the pull intensify.
The light enveloped them, and for a moment, everything went silent. The sounds of destruction, the sky's cracking, even their own breathing—everything ceased. Only the blinding brilliance remained, a void that felt both infinite and suffocating.
Brana squeezed his eyes shut, shielding Luma with his body as a strange sensation washed over him. It was as though he were being pulled apart and stitched back together at the same time.
When he opened his eyes, they were no longer where they should have been.
They stood in the middle of a forest unlike any Brana had ever seen. The trees were colossal, their trunks wide enough to house small buildings. Their glowing, emerald-green leaves shimmered faintly, casting an eerie light over the surroundings. The ground was covered in a soft, glowing moss that pulsed rhythmically, as if alive. The air was thick and humid, carrying a strange, metallic-sweet scent that was both alluring and unsettling.
Luma clung to Brana's side, her eyes wide with fear and wonder. "Brana… where are we? This isn't home…"
Brana glanced upward, searching for answers, and his breath caught in his throat.
Above them, three moons dominated the darkened sky. They hung low and immense, their surfaces glowing with ethereal light. One moon, silver with bluish edges, bore a distinct pattern resembling a crown, its lines softly pulsing with an otherworldly energy.
"Luma… look at that," Brana said, pointing at the crowned moon.
She followed his gaze, clutching his arm tightly. "Brana… what does it mean? Why are there three moons? And that crown… what is it?"
Brana had no answers, his mind swirling with questions of his own. How did we get here? What happened to the house… to Phil and the others? He scanned the forest, searching for something—anything—that felt familiar, but everything was alien.
The forest seemed alive, the trees towering above as though observing them. The glowing moss beneath their feet mirrored the light of the moons above.
Luma tugged at Brana's arm, breaking his thoughts. "Brana, is this a dream? A nightmare?"
Kneeling to meet her gaze, he said, "I don't know, Luma. But whatever this is, we'll figure it out. Together."
Hand in hand, they began to walk deeper into the forest, their senses heightened to every sound and movement. Each step took them further into a realm that seemed as beautiful as it was dangerous.
But Brana couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. His gaze often drifted back to the crowned moon, its pulsating light like an ever-present sentinel.
Suddenly, a bright light appeared in the distance. Brana stopped abruptly, pulling Luma close. Before them, a crimson crystal floated in midair, glowing and pulsing like a living heart. Its energy radiated in waves, making the air hum with tension.
"Brana… there's one here too," Luma whispered, her trembling fingers pointing to an identical crystal hovering before her.
They froze, their breaths caught in their throats as the air around them seemed to thicken.
Before Brana could react, the crystal moved. It shot toward him with terrifying speed, piercing his chest and disappearing in a burst of blinding light.
He fell to his knees, gasping as an intense warmth spread through his body. It felt as though the crystal was merging with him, its energy intertwining with his very being.
"Brana!" Luma screamed, but her voice was cut off as her own crystal did the same, embedding itself into her chest. She staggered back, enveloped in a crimson glow that pulsed rhythmically.
For a moment, silence enveloped them, broken only by their ragged breathing. Brana felt his heartbeat shift, aligning with a new rhythm, as if the crystal had synced itself to his essence.
Luma's wide, tear-filled eyes locked onto his. "Brana… what's happening to us?"
Before he could answer, the ground trembled once more. A searing heat surged through their bodies as the forest around them began to change yet again.