Aurora The Lost Heiress

The sky was cloudy, and Aurora almost smiled.No strange winds. No sudden changes in temperature. Just ordinary clouds on an ordinary morning in the suburbs of New York. For many people, an ugly day. For Aurora, a relief.Years of living with Helena had taught her a pattern: before each new escape, the weather would go crazy. Literally. The sky would give signs—and her mother would see prophecies.When a heat wave hit Alaska, they left in the middle of the night, leaving behind furniture, friends, even the dog. Aurora was still twelve years old. At the time, she believed there was logic to it. Then came the sandstorm in Canada. They left in the afternoon, without packing anything. They just got in the car and went. No explanations. And the last one... the worst of all. Lightning cutting through the Nevada sky as if it were summer in hell. Helena didn't even sleep that night. She grabbed her bags and disappeared with her daughter before daybreak.Aurora thought it was all an exaggerat

Aurora woke up to the sound of voices and the intermittent beeping of machines.The white ceiling, the cold light. The smell of disinfectant. It took her a few seconds to understand where she was.Hospital.She tried to sit up. Her head was throbbing. Her arm hurt—a bandage wrapped around her shoulder. The IV was still attached to her vein, a plastic tube tying her to that room. But none of that mattered.On the television, hanging in the corner, the live image showed the tragedy: an aerial view of southern Manhattan, chaos spread out below. “Unprecedented catastrophe,” read the caption. People being rescued from rooftops, cars floating among the rubble, screams, sirens, helicopters.Aurora's heart raced.“Mom.”The word escaped her mouth in a dry whisper.The last thing she remembered was Helena's hand slipping from hers. And now... nothing. No presence. No news.She yanked the IV out with a sharp tug. The pain was sharp but fleeting. She planted her feet on the floor, still barefoot

Aurora woke up, but didn't open her eyes right away.Her whole body ached, as if she had been run over by a tractor. Her muscles throbbed, her head felt heavy. She groaned softly, grumbling, feeling the hard, warm ground beneath her back.She tried to move her fingers first. Then her shoulders. She was lying on something rough and uneven, like rough stone.She opened her eyes slowly.The light hit her hard, dry and aggressive. She closed them again, reflexively. She took a deep breath. She tried again, more slowly. And this time, she saw.The sky was not blue. Nor white. Nor gray.It was a dull, metallic shade, a blue burned like steel plate after fire. No clouds. No visible sun. But too bright. It illuminated everything with an opaque, almost cruel glow.Aurora blinked several times, sitting up with effort. Her body protested with every movement.She looked around.At first, she thought she was on a mountain—until she saw what was beyond the edge.It was a mistake of nature. A place

Thales looked over his shoulder for the third time.Aurora was coming behind him, yes. Slowly. Clumsily. But she was coming.He sighed, his shoulders finally relaxing under his light armor. Not that he was worried—it was just... accumulated irritation. Like a weight between his ribs.There was still a long way to go to the center of Tron. And if it were up to him, this would be the last mission involving that girl.His feet sank into the damp earth of the trail, but he didn't slow down. He didn't care if she tripped over the roots. Let her trip. Let her choke on the thin air there. This was Tron. And Tron wasn't made for the weak.Thales' hands clenched into fists.He had almost failed. Tron had almost lost his only hope.And he, the prodigy. The damn “natural successor to Orion” would have tarnished his own name.Thales clenched his jaw until it hurt.Ever since Orion disappeared, Tron had put him on a pedestal. Trained since he was a boy. Forged with iron, cutting and isolation. The

The door creaked behind her. The sound was trapped between the stone walls, as if the room swallowed even the silence.Aurora stopped in the center. The air there seemed denser, warmer. There were burning embers in stone bowls in the corners of the room, casting orange shadows on the dark floor. The old man sitting in the armchair did not move.“You may go, Thales. As always, you did a great job. Celebrate tonight.”Thales nodded with his chin. His body tense, but his eyes averting. He was already turning to leave when Aurora's hand grabbed his arm.Strong. Instinctive.Aurora didn't even think. She just held on.Thales was her only safe haven in that chaos. The only anchor in the midst of that broken reality. The last thing that still connected her to the real world.Thales stopped.He didn't look at her right away. His jaw muscle moved, as if he were chewing on some curse before speaking. Then he turned his face. His eyes met hers and his mind exploded:“Damn... she still has that l