Luna was twenty when the prophecy's timeline completed. She'd survived past the predicted collapse point, thriving rather than burning out. It should have been a victory. Instead, it marked the beginning of something worse.
The first sign was subtle. Luna woke one morning to find her bridge perception showing inconsistencies. The connections between realms looked stable, but the underlying patterns felt wrong. Like looking at a perfect painting and sensing the canvas beneath was rotting.
"Something's off," Luna told River during their morning practice. "The bridge looks fine but feels broken. Does that make sense?"
River extended their own perception, frowning. "I feel it too. Like structural damage hidden beneath surface stability. Should we tell Ophelia?"
Before Luna could answer, re
