Nova’s POV – The Dream

I was running through fire.

The Hollow, once serene and sacred, burned around me, trees cracking like bones, the moon hidden by smoke. The air tasted like blood and ash. My lungs burned.

I didn’t know who I was running from.

Only that I had to reach her.

Up ahead, through the chaos, Eleanora stood on a blackened altar. Her silver gown was shredded, soaked in crimson. Her eyes glowed white, too bright, too wrong. In her arms lay Gannon, lifeless, his throat torn, blood pooling beneath them.

She looked at me and whispered, “He chose me… and I destroyed him.”

And then the altar...