When I opened my eyes, the air was different.

No rain. No cold. No choking weight of unseen eyes.

The walls were the same shape, but no longer bare and decayed. The motif was gone. The windows were open, and through them poured golden sunlight like honey. Birds chirped outside. Birds. The curtains fluttered in a breeze that smelled of lilacs and fresh parchment.

This place again.

The other Adumbral.

But it was no longer dreary or cultish, bleak and unnatural. Now it felt… warm. Alive.

I sat up slowly, heart still pounding, fingers trembling.

“What is this?” I whispered to no one. “Why does it keep happening?”

The silence didn’t answer. But it felt almost… welcoming.

And that, somehow, was worse.

Sunlight streamed through the tall windows like golden syrup, spilling across the polished floors. The motif that once twisted across the wood like a spell was gone. The room felt... alive. Real. And wrong.

This was not the same house.

Again.

I scrambled to my feet, nearly tripping on the hem of my gown. My hands were trembling. My heart pounded like war drums in my chest.

The last thing I remembered was Umbrovultus. That shadow was wrapping around me like a second skin. The sound of my scream was swallowed by the dark. And then the...

Lightning.

I was alive. Somehow.

Still barefoot, I rushed from the room, the door creaking shut behind me without a push. The hallway was bright and polished. No dust. No rot. No creeping dread along the walls.

I didn’t stop until I hit the main stairway. The smell of breakfast wafted up from below, eggs, toast, and something faintly citrusy. I dashed down the stairs, half expecting to find a ballroom full of nobles and veils and humming in unison.

Instead, I found my mother and father calmly seated at the breakfast table. My mother wore a sunflower-yellow blouse and a warm expression. My father was thumbing through a crossword in the paper, sipping from a white porcelain teacup. Everything glowed.

“Mother! Father!” I blurted, breathless. “What happened to the Festival that started last night? Where is everyone? Why did the shadow, why did Umbrovultus—”

They both looked up at once.

My father blinked over his glasses. “The Festival of what, dear?”

“The Festival of Shadows! Last night, the guests, the creature Samuel, were—” I stopped myself, my heart racing faster.

My mother placed her fork down gently, tilting her head. “Cynthia, are you feeling alright?”

My father chuckled lightly. “She’s probably still half-asleep. You always were a vivid dreamer, dear.”

I stared at them. “What are you talking about? Last night was real. The ballroom, the shadow, it took someone! And we, the Adumbral family, are its heralds.”

That’s when they both went silent.

My father slowly lowered his newspaper.

“The Adumbral family?” he repeated, confused.

My mother frowned, genuinely concerned. “Cynthia, we’re not the Adumbral family.”

“We’re the Lucidus family,” my father said, patting my hand. “Have been for generations. Why would you say such a strange thing?”

I stared at them, words sticking to my tongue.

“And as for... ‘Festivals of Shadows,’" my mother air-quoted, “we’ve never heard of such a thing. If you meant the Luminary Festival, well, that starts today. You know this, dear.”

“I-I-I know no such thing,” I stammered.

My father gave a soft laugh. “Well now, if that isn’t just the most theatrical thing I’ve heard before breakfast.”

“You’d think she was auditioning for one of those drama societies again,” my mother added, raising a brow. “Are you writing a novel, sweetheart? Should I be worried you’re turning the family into horror villains?”

I blinked rapidly, trying to process. “You’re both... serious?”

“As the day is long,” my father said. “Which, by the way, promises to be a beautiful one. Not a single cloud in sight.”

“Unlike your mood,” my mother teased. “Sit down and eat something, darling. You look like you've seen a ghost. Or... a shadow, perhaps?”

I sat. I didn’t know what else to do.

My hands trembled slightly as I reached for a slice of toast. The smell of orange marmalade wafted up, grounding me in this bizarre, pastel-colored version of life.

Lucidus. Not Adumbral. Festival of light. No memory of last night.

Nothing made sense. But I had the sinking suspicion this wasn’t the last time it would all change again.

And maybe, just maybe-I—I-I wasn’t waking up from a dream anymore. I was pulled between two.

I hadn't noticed it earlier, but the mansion had transformed again—this time into something out of a dream painted in soft pastels and pearlescent sheen. Floor-to-ceiling windows were thrown open to the morning sun, sheer white curtains fluttering gently in the breeze. Where once there had been heavy velvet and flickering candlelight, now there were hanging glass orbs glowing with warm, steady luminescence. Instead of House Adumbral’s eclipsed sun, new banners now fluttered from the rafters—white silk stitched with a radiant sunburst wreathed in lilies.

I stood at the top of the marble staircase after changing into a dress of sky blue and gold trim earlier in preparation for the Festival, watching as the guests arrived, one by one, like pieces of a puzzle I couldn’t solve. My heart hammered as I recognized them—not just their faces, but their mirror selves.

“Announcing the Terra family!” a voice called from below.

Oswald Terra stepped into the atrium in soft linen robes of earthy cream and olive green. He gave me a broad smile, sincere, cheerful.

Then came, “The Dies family!”

My stomach dropped.

Veronica Dies ascended the stairs first, dressed in a flowing pale silver dinner dress, her white-blonde hair twisted with pearls. Her eyes locked on mine with subtle concern. Behind her came Samuel in soft white and gold three-piece suit, alive and well and grinning like nothing had ever gone wrong.

I froze. The world tilted.

“Samuel…?” I whispered, my voice catching.

“Cynthia!” he said with a light laugh, stepping forward. “You alright? You’ve been acting kind of strange. What's wrong?”

He was here. Breathing. Speaking.

But I saw him vanish. I saw him taken.

More names were announced—Cedric Lux in bright yellow and navy linen suit, followed immediately by Iris Serēnus in ivory gown trimmed with gold, her curls tied back with sunflowers, and Harold Serēnus was wearing a pale blue velvet suit and a sky-colored cravat, actually smiling for once.