Celeste sat on the worn-out couch, staring at the crack on her wrist. It had grown. Not by much, but enough for her to notice. Enough to make the unease in her stomach coil even tighter.
She pressed her thumb against it, half-expecting to feel something—pain, heat, anything at all. But there was nothing. Just smooth, unbroken skin that looked normal, even as the faint line beneath it deepened like a fracture in glass.
She wasn't sure how much time she had left.
Across the room, Nathaniel stood near the window, arms crossed, his gaze sharp as he watched the streets below. He had barely said a word since his warning. His presence was both reassuring and suffocating—like standing next to a storm you knew was on your side, but could still destroy you if you got too close.
Amelia, on the other hand, was pacing.
Her agitation was palpable, crackling in the air like static. She had never been good at sitting still when things felt out of control. Celeste had seen it before—when she was caught up in a painting that refused to cooperate, when she was thinking too fast for her hands to keep up. But this was different. This wasn't about art.
This was about her.
"Alright," Amelia said suddenly, stopping mid-step. "We need a plan."
Nathaniel didn't look away from the window. "We already have one."
Amelia scoffed. "Oh, right. Your master plan of 'wait and see who tries to kill Celeste first.' Brilliant."
Nathaniel's jaw tensed. "Rushing in blind will get you both killed." Amelia narrowed her eyes. "And doing nothing will make it easier for them to take her."
Celeste let out a slow breath, cutting in before the tension could escalate. "I need answers." Both of them turned to her. Celeste met Nathaniel's gaze first. "You said they want to erase me. That I'm not supposed to exist." Her voice didn't waver, even though she could feel the fear clawing at her ribs. "Tell me what that means." Nathaniel was silent for a long moment.
Then, finally—he spoke.
"You were brought into this world through something that shouldn't have been possible," he said. "A tear in reality. A mistake." A mistake. Celeste felt the word settle inside her like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake. She swallowed. "And now they want to fix it."
Nathaniel nodded. Amelia's hands curled into fists. "Who are they?"
Nathaniel hesitated. "I don't have names. But I know what they are." He turned fully to face them, his expression unreadable. "They're the ones who make sure the world stays intact. That reality doesn't break. That nothing unnatural exists for too long." Celeste felt a chill run down her spine. "And I'm unnatural," she whispered.
Nathaniel didn't deny it. Amelia took a step forward, eyes burning with defiance. "Then they're wrong." Nathaniel's expression remained impassive. "That doesn't change the fact that they'll come for her."
"Then we stop them," Amelia shot back.
Nathaniel exhaled sharply. "It's not that simple."
"It is that simple," Amelia snapped. "Celeste is here. She's real. I don't care what some cosmic cleanup crew thinks—they don't get to decide whether she exists or not."
Celeste felt her heart tighten. Amelia said it like it was the simplest truth in the world. Like it wasn't even a question.
Nathaniel, however, remained unreadable. "I want to believe that," he said finally. "But belief won't protect her." A heavy silence filled the room.
Celeste clenched her hands together, steadying herself. "So what will?" Nathaniel studied her for a moment before speaking. "There's a way to tether you here. To make it harder for them to erase you."
Celeste's breath caught. "How?" Nathaniel exhaled. "By anchoring you to something permanent. Something undeniable." He paused, his gaze flickering between her and Amelia. "Something that binds you to this world in a way they can't easily undo."
Celeste's pulse pounded in her ears.
"Like what?" Amelia asked, her voice cautious.
Nathaniel hesitated. Then—
"A soul bond."
The words sent a shiver down Celeste's spine.
Amelia stilled. "A what?"
Nathaniel's expression was unreadable. "A bond strong enough to rewrite reality itself." He looked at Celeste. "To make you real."
Celeste's throat felt dry.
Because deep down, she already knew what he meant.
She could feel it. The way her very existence seemed to hinge on something fragile yet unbreakable. The way she had always been drawn to Amelia, like an unseen force had been pulling them together since the beginning.
And now, the only way to survive…
Was to make that bond permanent.