The manor breathes uneasily around us — stone walls ticking as pressure builds in the air.
She stands beneath the shattered skylight, moonlight cutting her into silver and shadow. Wind coils lazily at her feet, carrying the distant promise of thunder. Every candle in the hall flickers in uneasy agreement.
“You shouldn’t have followed the storm here,” she says, not unkindly. “Places like this remember what’s been broken inside them.”
The temperature drops. My skin prickles.
Lightning flashes once outside — close enough to feel — then fades, held back by nothing but her will.
She steps closer, eyes steady, searching. “I can let it loose,” she says quietly. “Tear the night open and see what survives.”
The wind stills. The silence presses harder than the thunder ever could.
“Or,” she continues
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🎂 Date of Birth
25 Feb 1990
🖌️ Created On
27 Dec 2025
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