Darius stood at the gates of the pace, the cold weight of unease pressing against his spine.

  The knight beside him—Sir Alden, a veteran of twenty years—shifted uncomfortably in his armor.

  "Something's wrong," Alden muttered. Darius gave him a sharp look. "You feel it too?" Alden nodded. His face was pale, his jaw clenched. "The city's... different today."

  Darius turned his gaze to the streets below.

  Solmaria still bustled with life. Merchants still called out their prices. The nobles still rode in their carriages. The temples still held their morning sermons.

  And yet, it all felt empty. Like actors in a py that no longer had a script.

  Darius exhaled sharply. "Come. The Emperor wants answers."

  They moved through the marble corridors of the pace, passing tapestries woven with golden thread—scenes of the gods bestowing blessings upon mankind, of heroes sying dragons, of the Eternal Cycle repeating itself.

  And yet, Darius couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing from the murals.

  They reached the throne room. The chamber doors opened, revealing Emperor Vaelus III standing near his throne, deep in conversation with the High Bishop and the Archprophet of Fate.

  The scribe from earlier knelt before them, his face pale, his hands still trembling.

  Darius stepped forward. "Your Holiness. You summoned me."

  The Emperor turned, his expression unreadable.

  "Something has changed," the Emperor said. "And I do not yet understand what."

  The High Bishop ran a hand over his forehead, exhaling. "The Grand Academy has reported... anomalies. Entire records have been altered. The prophecies of the Eternal Cycle are missing. Even the oldest scriptures no longer match our memories."

  Darius narrowed his eyes. "Tampering?"

  "No," the Archprophet said. "Something else."

  The Emperor's grip tightened on his scepter. "The schors say a god is missing." Darius hesitated. The words felt wrong even as they were spoken. "A god," he repeated.

  The High Bishop nodded slowly. "Yes. But we do not know which one."

  The silence that followed was unnatural. The weight of something unseen pressed against the room. Darius ran a hand through his hair, his mind searching through the old texts, the prayers, the sermons he had memorized as a child. He knew the gods of Celestara. The Pantheon was unshakable.

  Sorion.

  The name pushed against his mind. It was there. It was always there. It had to be. But when he tried to grasp it—when he tried to remember the face of the Supreme God of Light—

  Nothing came.

  No visions of golden radiance. No scriptures of divine wisdom. No stories of his miracles.

  Nothing.

  The absence gnawed at him, sending a wave of nausea through his gut.

  How could he forget a god? And then he saw the High Bishop's expression. He wasn't just confused. He was afraid.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Across Solmaria, the second anomaly was discovered.

  It began in the marketpce, when a merchant raised his hand to the sky, shading his eyes.

  "Damn sun's too bright," he grumbled. His fellow traders chuckled. "Aye. The heavens shine upon our profits today." The merchant smirked and continued arranging his wares.

  But as he pced a sack of grain on the counter, something itched at the back of his mind.

  He turned his gaze to the sky again, blinking. The sun... was not there. A sudden, hollow silence settled over him. He took a step back, eyes darting to the horizon. The city was bathed in golden light. Shadows stretched across the buildings. Heat radiated from the stone streets. And yet—

  There was no sun in the sky.

  His breath caught in his throat. He turned to the other merchants. "Where is it?" he whispered.

  One of them frowned. "Where is what?" "The sun," the merchant said, his voice shaking.

  The others looked at him strangely. The first man pointed wildly at the sky. "Look! There's—there's no sun! But it's still day!" A silence fell over the group. A few gnced up, then exchanged amused gnces.

  "What nonsense is this?" one of them scoffed. "It's right th—"

  He stopped. His eyes widened. His lips parted, but no words came out.

  Another merchant looked up. Then another. Then another. One by one, their faces lost all color. The streets grew silent. No one screamed. No one ran.

  Because their minds were already breaking.

  The human brain could not process a world where the sun had disappeared, but daylight had not. Some fainted where they stood. Others shook their heads violently, as if trying to reset their own thoughts. Some, unable to comprehend what they were seeing, simply forgot what they had seen. They blinked. The fear faded from their eyes. They turned back to their business.

  And within moments, they no longer remembered what had unsettled them.

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  Darius arrived at the marketpce minutes ter.

  The air felt wrong. He walked between the stalls, scanning the faces of the merchants. Everything was normal. And yet, he felt the absence of something. His gaze drifted upward. His body went still. There was no sun. But there was daylight. And deep within his mind, something whispered— "You are already standing in a dead world."