The ruins breathed around her.
Not with air—but with memory.
Every stone seemed alive, every shadow pulsed with something ancient, a heartbeat too old to die. The silence was suffocating, pressing against Selene's chest like invisible hands. Yet beneath that silence, she heard it… faint, brittle… voices, splintered and ghostly, seeping from the cracks of the walls.
They were whispering her name.
Selene's boots scraped against the marble floor as she stepped deeper into the ancient halls. The cold wasn't of temperature—it was spiritual, a hollow chill that leeched warmth from her soul rather than her skin. Symbols carved into the stone glowed faintly, veins of buried fire flickering to life as she passed. The whispers grew louder, tugging at her mind like threads unraveling the seams of her past.
Her hand brushed a shattered pillar. The stone was warm—too warm—and the whispers sharpened into a single voice. A woman's voice.
> "You were not born of fire… but of betrayal."
Selene froze. Her throat tightened.
"Who said that?"
The shadows shifted. And then he was there—the Beast.
His presence filled the corridor like a storm restrained by will alone. Golden eyes glowed in the dimness, reflecting the ruins' dying light.
"You've awakened the memory vault," he said, his tone low and reverent. "These ruins… they store echoes—fragments of what they tried to make us forget."
Selene turned sharply. "They?"
"The ones who cursed us. The gods. The seers. Even our own kind."
Before she could question him, the walls stirred. Symbols cracked open, spilling blinding light. The air thickened with visions.
A little girl with silver eyes, weeping beneath a blood-soaked moon.
A beast shackled in chains, roaring until the heavens trembled.
Two figures—one of light, one of shadow—reaching for each other, only to be torn apart by unseen hands.
Selene staggered, clutching her head as the pain split her mind.
"They stole our truth," the Beast said, his gaze fierce yet sorrowful. "They buried who we were. Who we loved."
"Why?" she gasped. "Why erase us?"
"So we'd never rise again. So we'd never remember the power we once shared."
Her vision blurred. The words slipped out before she could stop them.
"I saw you… I loved you once, didn't I?"
For a heartbeat, the Beast faltered. His jaw clenched, but his eyes softened.
"And you were willing to burn the stars for me."
The confession struck like lightning. Her mind rejected it, but her soul… her soul remembered.
They pressed deeper into the ruins. The air thickened with whispers that grew clearer the further they walked—each phrase broken, pleading, full of warning.
"Why does it feel like the walls are watching me?" she muttered.
"Because they are," the Beast murmured, appearing at her side.
She flinched, glaring at him. "Do you enjoy sneaking up on me?"
His lips curved faintly. "You make it easy. You're distracted."
Before she could retort, they reached a massive mural—fractured down the middle by time. The carvings shimmered faintly as Selene traced her fingers along the ancient grooves. The stone thrummed beneath her touch, alive.
Then the voice returned, echoing from the mural itself—clear, feminine, and mournful.
> "Daughter of ash… born of blood and void. You are not what they made you believe."
Selene recoiled. "Did you hear that?"
The Beast nodded. "The ruins bleed truth. They remember even when we do not."
Light erupted from the mural. Visions struck her again, sharper this time—like knives forged from memory.
A twilight battlefield.
A silver-haired woman, arms raised, shadows spilling from her hands like rivers.
The Beast kneeling before her—not in fear, but in devotion.
Her chest tightened. "You knew me… before all this."
"I still do," he said quietly.
"Not this version," she whispered. "The one before the darkness."
His gaze locked with hers. "That version wasn't destroyed. She was stolen."
The truth in his tone rattled her more than the visions. She looked back at the mural. The cracks glowed, revealing a radiant figure carved into the stone—a woman who looked like her, radiant, fierce, crowned in flame. At her side stood a beast unchained, not as a monster, but as her equal.
"Is this… fate?" she breathed.
His answer was sharp. "No. This isn't prophecy—it's a warning."
The air trembled. A whisper rose from the ruins, deeper, darker.
> "She must not remember…"
Selene's heart stuttered. "Did you hear that?"
"Yes," the Beast said, voice tight. Shadows flickered violently around him.
And then—chaos.
Visions tore through her mind, merciless and raw.
A burning crown wreathed in black fire.
A child crying before a mirror that bled.
Two shadows merging under a blood-red moon.
A bone blade plunging into her chest—by her own hand.
The Beast, chained and screaming her name.
A fallen angel with golden eyes and torn wings.
A serpent's hiss: Choose him… lose all.
Her own reflection—older, crowned, and weeping.
A battlefield among stars where destiny itself waited in silence.
Selene dropped to her knees, gasping. "What is this?!"
"The truth," the Beast growled. His claws dug into his palms. "The truth they never wanted us to know."
"But why?"
"Because together," he said darkly, "we could have destroyed them. And they feared that more than death itself."
Selene pressed her hand to the mural again. Light exploded outward. A new voice thundered through the ruins—no longer whispering, but commanding.
> "You are not the weapon. You are the storm that shatters it."
The ground split open. A glowing seal cracked, pulsing crimson beneath their feet.
Selene's breath hitched. "We're not just enemies," she whispered. "We're… linked."
The Beast's gaze burned into hers. "Two halves of a story they tried to erase."
The wind screamed. Another voice echoed through the fractures of the ruin—distant, cold, and divine.
> "If they remember… they will rise."
Selene's heart thundered. "Who will rise?"
Before he could answer, an unseen force slammed into them. Selene crashed into the wall as the air thickened, birthing a shape—no face, no body, only a shadow so cold it froze her blood.
The Beast's voice was edged with fury. "The past is no longer sleeping."
And then the visions consumed them both.
---
Selene's Vision
The serpent coiled around a shattered crown.
Her lips touched another man's—someone who was not the Beast.
A throne bound in chains.
The Beast stabbed—by his own reflection.
Her heart torn in two, bleeding into his hands.
---
The Beast's Vision
Flames of betrayal devouring him.
A younger face—his brother, Velkar—crowned in blood.
Selene trapped in a mirror, whispering his name.
Velkar's voice, echoing like poison: "You were always meant for me."
An army rising from the sands of Mars, Velkar leading the charge.
A celestial book closing—their names carved out.
---
The Beast ripped free of the vision with a roar that shook the ruins.
"Velkar," he hissed, voice venomous.
Selene stumbled to her feet. "You know him?"
His golden eyes burned. "My brother. Exiled long ago. He feeds on chaos. And now…" His voice dropped to a growl. "Now he wants you."
Selene's lips curved, though unease trembled beneath her words. "Me?"
"He's bound himself to the Forsaken Ones. If he's returned…" The Beast's voice darkened. "This isn't just war. It's the theft of destiny itself."
The ruins shuddered violently. Dust rained from above. And far beyond the broken walls, across the red sands, a cloaked figure watched from the shadows.
Velkar.
And with his arrival, the game had begun.