The next morning, Mira woke up feeling strange.
Her body felt warm, as if something was flowing inside her veins. She sat up slowly and noticed a faint burning sensation on her right hand.
Confused, she lifted her palm.
There, glowing softly, was a strange mark.
It was shaped like an ancient symbol, unknown and beautiful. A dim silver light pulsed from it, disappearing and appearing again like a heartbeat.
Mira's breath caught.
"What… is this?" she whispered.
She tried to wipe it away, but the mark remained. When she touched it, a sudden heat rushed through her body, forcing her to pull her hand back.
Fear filled her heart.
She quickly covered her palm with her sleeve and looked around. Thankfully, no one was there.
All day, Mira felt uneasy. The mark stayed hidden, but she could feel it — warm, alive, as if it were watching her.
That night, as she lay in bed, the mark suddenly glowed brighter.
The room trembled slightly.
Mira gasped and closed her eyes.
And then… darkness swallowed her consciousness.
Far away, something ancient opened its eyes.
And softly, a voice echoed through her soul.
"Mira… you have finally awakened."