>ATTENTION: This chapter serves as an introduction into the psychology of the Protagonist. Therefore, its word count is slightly longer. However, it holds this exclusivity alone. And with that being said, please enjoy!<

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A girl with violet hair stood amidst the ruins of a world unknown. One that no longer seemed to care for its own existence.

The ground beneath her feet was a mosaic of shattered earth, jagged shards of what might have once been cities or mountains, now suspended mid-air like the broken pieces of a celestial mirror. A deep red sky loomed overhead, smoldering like the dying embers of a fire. The air smelled of ash and something sharper - something other-worldly, like the aftermath of a storm that had torn through reality itself.

In the distance, two figures clashed, their forms so colossal and radiant that the world itself seemed to shrink in their presence.

One burned like a dying sun, its movement trailing flames that ignited the horizon. The other was a void given shape, a towering figure that devoured the light around it, leaving nothing but inky shadows in its wake.

The girl wanted to look away, but she couldn't. The sheer force of their battle drew her in with an instinctual pull she couldn't explain.

Each strike they exchanged split the air with a deafening roar, the vibrations traveling through the shattered landscape and into her chest like a drumbeat of impending doom.

"Why are they fighting?" She whispered, but her voice never made it to her own ears. It was hardly audible over the cacophony of destruction.

Neither figure turned toward her, yet she felt as if their battle was somehow meant for her.

A desperate question gnawing at the back her mind introduced a terrible sense of déjà vu swirling in her gut.

Wait. I've seen this before.

The flaming figure unleashed an arc of molten light, so bright that it painted the broken earth in blinding gold. But the void retaliated with shadowy tendrils reaching out like spears to extinguish the attack.

Consequently, the collision of their powers created a pulse that ripped through the air, knocking the girl backward. However, she only stumbled, just enough for her not to fall. Regardless, the shards of ground beneath her feet floated just enough to cushion her steps.

"Why is this happening?" She managed, but her voice cracked underneath a mix of awe and terror, still silent to her own senses.

However, no answer came, only the relentless echoes of their battle that filled the void.

Above them, the sky began to crack. It wasn't like the colossal fissures in the earth - this was different. The very fabric of reality was splintering. Soon, jagged black lines spreaded outward as if the universe itself couldn't withstand the force of these two beings. Furthermore, the cracks deepened, spreading like streaks of lightning, and - just then - she felt a familiar sensation crawling up her spine...

Fear

Before she could take another step, the ground gave way.

The violet hair girl plunged into the abyss, the splintered pieces of the world falling along with her. Even worse, the wind howled in her ears, and the shards of reality around her dissolved into thin streaks of light.

For a moment, everything was weightless - soundless even. She was suspended in a void, surrounded by nothing but an overwhelming silence that seemed to mock the chaos she had just witnessed.

Then came the cold. It wasn't the biting chill of winter but a deeper, primal cold - the kind that seeped into your bones and made you question whether warmth had ever existed.

Just a moment of that experience and she gasped, struggling for air as the emptiness around her grew darker and overwhelmingly denser. As a result, her body twisted and, as her fall quickened, the silence was replaced by a low, pulsating vibration. It wasn't just in her ears either - it was inside of her, vibrating in her chest, her skull, and her very soul.

Just as she felt she might dissolve into the void, her body jerked violently. And to her relief, her deprived lungeds begun to burn as she sucked in a desperate breath of air. And even better, her eyes finally snapped open to a room bathed in darkness.

She was awake.

Celeste Takashiro sat upright in bed, still struggling to filter the air, like someone who had been drowning only to break the surface just in time. Beads of cold sweat clung to her skin, while her fingers twisted the sheets into tight, trembling knots.

The room would've been completely dark had it not been for the faint glow of her alarm clock on the nightstand.

4:13 AM.

Too early to be awake, but too late to find solace in sleep again. Not after that.

She lazily raked a hand through her damp hair, fighting against the feeling settling in her stomach, one she had an obsession not to ignore.

Just then, her eyes commenced to scanning the shadows of her cramped apartment.

Suddenly, she felt the silence of the space pressing against her ears, far too loud after the chaos of the dream. As a consequence, her chest tightened, but she fought the irrational urge to scream - to fill the vast emptiness with sound.

After all, it was just a dream.

She told herself this, but the words carried no weight. It hadn't felt like a dream. The crackling flames, the oppressive cold, the clash of powers too great to belong to any human - every detail had been too vivid.

So even now, when she tried to push it aside, she could still feel the tremor of the ground, the shattering air, and the icy pull of the abyss.

As well as the silence. That soul-crushing silence.

Celeste swung her legs over the edge of the bed, but her bare feet came only so close to touching the chilled wooden floor, something she subconsciously hated. So she sat there, only for a moment, running her hands through her head and trying to piece herself back together, as hard as it was possible.

And yet, that pulse - it still hammered in her ears, out of sync with the stillness of the early morning.

After a long breath, she weakly pushed herself to her feet, but her movements were sluggish and sloppily executed, as if her body was still trapped in the void she'd just escaped.

I just need to wake up.

It wasn't long before she shuffled into the bathroom, shielding her eyes from the dim light flickering on with a mechanical tick. On most days the mirror wasn't so terrifing, but as of late, maybe a few weeks, it greeted her with an unkind reflection - dark circles under hollow eyes and a face worn down by nights like this.

Celeste stared at herself for a moment that seemed more like an eternity. There was no doubt it, it was getting worse.

"Get it together," she muttered before gripping the edges of the sink. The metal was unsurprisingly cold against her palms, yet it grounded her. "It's just another dream."

After all, dreams weren't real... were they?

The dream had started three weeks ago, and it was always the same: the splintered world, the titanic figures battling, the suffocating fall into darkness. Every time she woke up, the details burned brighter in her mind, refusing to fade like normal dreams should have. And every time, it left her with the same question:

Why me?

Celeste splashed cold water on her face. The shock of it was meant to jolt her out of her thoughts, even if momentarily. But that never happened.

Instead, droplets meant to carry her burdens rolled down her cheeks and into the sink, where they pooled and swirled as the drain struggled to keep pace. Against her intent, she watched the water spiral downward, hypnotized, until its motion blurred into a formless whirl. Only after the sink had dried did she shake her head, snapping herself out of the trance.

As she dried her face with a towel, a faint, rhythmic tapping caught her attention. And she froze, unaware of her grip tightening around the towel.

The sound was distant, faint enough to be mistaken for the building settling - but it wasn't. In that moment, her instincts prickled, the same way they had in the dream when the ground cracked open beneath her.

The window?

To be safe, she turned off the bathroom light and stepped cautiously toward the window. Her reaction was more practiced than instinctual.

Peeling back the curtain, she scanned the dark street below.

Nothing moved except for the occasional flicker of a streetlight. The city felt... wrong. Even in the dead hours of the morning, there was usually some sign of life - a passing car, distant chatter from the bars closing down, even the rattling of the nearby train station.

Now, there was nothing. Just silence.

Celeste let the curtain fall back into place, but the unease - that eerily evasive feeling - stayed with her. Her apartment, though small and unremarkable, suddenly felt vast and exposed. Every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of wind against the window, made him jump.

"Paranoid."

She muttered under her breath, trying to shake the feeling. But deep down, she knew better - this feeling had become her new reality.

In one fluid motion, she pulled on a faded tiedye hoodie, the fade a consequence of being her favorite, and stepped into some worn handprint sneakers. Staying in her apartment, with its claustrophobic stillness, felt unbearable.

Maybe a walk would clear her head.

As she locked the door behind her and descended the stairs to the street below, Celeste couldn't shake that reaching sensation of a predator in the peripherals of its prey, a revolving condition of her past traumas - to say the least. Even if she wanted to, there was no changing that.

Her eyes darted to every shadow, every corner, meticulously searching for something she couldn't name.

On this particular night, the usually busy city was asleep, but it didn't feel peaceful. The air felt heavier than it should have felt, like some kind of oppressive force was weighing down on it. Celeste shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, quickening her pace without even realizing it.

In the next moment, something deep inside screamed at her to glanced over her shoulder, and she did - once, then again - certain she'd seen a flicker of movement just out of view. But the street remained empty, bathed in the cold glow of flickering neon signs and dim lamplight.

As she turned a corner towards the park, her breath caught.

The trees ahead of her swayed unnaturally, though the air remained still. No sane person would have mistaken it as something natural. Which meant...

Something isn't right.

Celeste hesitated at the park's edge, noting how the shadows within were darker than they should have been. She clenched her fists and took a tentative step forward, only to find the crunch of gravel beneath her sneakers breaking the silence.

And then came the familiar sound she'd been dreading: the faint, rhythmic tapping - closer now.

The tapping grew louder with each begrudging step she took into the park, a sound that refused to be swallowed by the night - or the gravel beneath her feet. It wasn't natural, having no rhythm to match the sway of the trees, nor the distinct dissonance of the city. It was deliberate, sharp and precise, echoing like the click of a metronome measuring out an orchestra.

Celeste stopped in her tracks, and despite the thick hoodie she wore, the cold air bit at her skin as if it were bare.

The path ahead stretched into darkness, and the weak light from the lampposts barely reached the edge of the forested park, adding to the eerie trend. As well as the oddly placed trees that loomed like sentinels. Their gnarled branches intertwined above Celeste to form a canopy that seemed to press down on the world below.

"Is... someone there?" She said, cutting through the silence.

The tapping stopped.

And, for a moment, nothing stirred. Then, faintly came a sound that chilled her far more than the tapping ever could.

It was laughter.

Low and raspy, like the voice of someone whose throat had forgotten how to form words.

Celeste's instincts screamed at her to run, but her feet felt rooted to the ground. However, her gaze darted around the park, searching for the source of the sound.

Then, sure enough, the shadows beneath the trees seemed to shift. She was certain that something was moving, though she couldn't see it.

"Who's there?" Celeste called out again, louder this time.

Her voice carried an edge of desperation as she continued:

"I'll call the cops! I swear!"

At that, from the darkness ahead, a figure emerged and a voice rang out, low and almost a growl, reverberating unnaturally in the air.

"At tomorrow's twilight... you will die."