Maeve sat at a table made of starlight, a single coin resting between her fingers. She liked to test the laws of chance whenever she grew restless. Heads or tails. A question older than most universes, yet still amusing.
She flipped it.
The coin rose and spun, catching the light of a thousand suns. It should have landed in her palm, but instead it fractured mid-air, splitting into two, then four, then eight. Each piece carried its own possibility, each spinning toward a different fate.
One landed heads. Another tails. A third landed on its edge and froze like a statue. A fourth exploded into tiny shards that reassembled into smaller coins, each beginning its own spin.
Maeve leaned forward, fascinated and troubled. "This is new."
The air thickened. The table bent beneath the weight of so many choices piling on top of each other. The world around her groaned as though too many realities were being written at once.
Then a circle of orange light cut through the vision like a blade. Intricate runes flared, steady and precise, slicing away the storm of probability until only one coin remained. It landed flat against her palm. Heads.
Maeve stared at the glowing circle that lingered in the air. She did not recognize it, but its precision carried authority.
And just like that, she felt herself falling through it.
The last thought that crossed her mind before the world shifted was sharp and incredulous.
"My vacation just turned into homework."