MOONBOUND SECRETS
The abyss devours them as we speak.
A flick of her wrist, and the void ripples. An image forms: Ryland slumped against a crumbling monolith, his breath shallow. The twins huddle nearby, their hands clasped, light and shadow sputtering weakly around them. The ground beneath them fractures, tendrils of the abyss licking at their heels.
“Stop it,” you whisper.
***You stopped nothing***, she laughs. ***You only delayed the inevitable. But I am generous. I’ll offer you a trade.***
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