Unwritten Constellation

point. Instead, I sit at my desk, staring at the old book, my fingers running over the smudged words. When they make up their minds... I have no idea what the choice is. But I know that I'm running sh

obsidian and silver, etched with runes that glow softly when I trail my fingers across their surface. This is an ancient place. And yet-it knows me. A breath on the wind, borne on a silent breeze. I don't hear the words, but I feel them. A pull in my chest, drawing me closer. I move forward-then another. Before me, the road narrows to a bridge of stone and starlight, suspended over nothing. And at its distant end- A man. Standing with his back turned to me, still as the nothingness surrounding him. My heart stammers. Even before he faces me, I know who it is. "Kairos." His name leaves me like breath, like prayer. He slowly turns. And when our eyes meet, the connection between us bursts into flames. A rush of heat and memory and something unspoken-something unfinished. His eyes are steady, unfathomable, but his voice when he speaks is not. It is raw. Attentive. "You came." I breathe out, trembling. "I think. I was brought here." Kairos looks at me keenly. "Then we don't have much time." A movement in the darkness. And at once, it is clear. I was not brought here to search for him. I was brought here to make a decision. And something else-something sinister-is approaching. The air shifts. A sound-low, distant-growls beneath my feet, vibrating through the stone bridge. The symbols on the pillars hasten their heartbeat, their light intensifying. Something is coming. Kairos steps a pace closer, but he doesn't take my hand. He waits instead, as if he's waiting for something-a response, a choice, a moment I don't understand. I shake my head. "What's happening?" His jaw tightens. "You weren't supposed to be here yet." A spark of anger flares in me. "Well, I'm here. And I need to know what's going on." Kairos exhales sharply, his gaze flicking to the undulating shadows beyond the bridge. His expression is neutral, but there's something in the tension of his shoulders-something taut, something afraid. "The worlds are dying, Lyra." His voice is gentle, but the weight of it is devastating. "And we're the reason." My heart misses a beat. His words are too close to what Rowan told me. To what I feared. I swallow. "Then tell me how to stop it." For the first time, something in Kairos's face cracks. Not