The next morning the sky over the palace was gray like steel. The city below looked quiet, but everyone could feel something strange in the air. The bells that usually rang at sunrise did not sound. Birds flew in circles over the towers and then vanished into the clouds.

Lena sat by the window of her chamber holding the crystal in her hands. It no longer glowed blue or silver. It was clear now, almost colorless, as if it had emptied itself. She wondered if it meant the Gate was resting or waiting.

When Elara came in with breakfast, her face was pale. “The prince has called for you,” she said softly. “The council wants answers.”

Lena rose quickly. “About what happened last night.”

“Yes. They say the ground moved again. The southern wall cracked. Some of the guards saw light coming through the stones.”

Lena’s stomach tightened. She already knew what that meant. The Gate was pushing outward again.

The council chamber was larger than she expected, with tall windows and heavy curtains that muted the daylight. Twelve men and women sat at the long table, dressed in colors of red and gold. Prince Alden stood at the head, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He looked tired but steady.

When Lena entered, the murmurs grew louder. One of the councilors leaned forward. “This is the girl?”

“She is,” the prince said. “And she may be the only one who can tell us what is happening.”

Another man, older with a voice like gravel, said, “Why should we trust her? Every tremor started after she appeared. She brings bad luck.”

Lena tried to stay calm. “I didn’t cause this,” she said. “The Gate brought me here.”

“The Gate is a myth,” the man snapped. “A story to frighten children.”

The prince’s voice cut through the noise. “Then explain the light under the palace. Explain the soldiers vanishing without a sound.”

Silence followed. No one wanted to answer.

Alden turned to Lena. “Tell them what you saw.”

Lena took a breath and stepped forward. “There are two worlds,” she said. “Yours and mine. The Gate connects them. When it opened, it didn’t close properly. Now it’s trying to fix itself by forcing a balance.”

One of the women frowned. “Balance?”

“It wants one world to remain,” Lena said quietly. “It asked me to choose which one.”

Gasps filled the room. Several councilors began to speak at once. Alden raised his hand. “Enough. We will not panic.”

He looked at Lena. “If it asked you to choose, then you have influence over it. Can you control it?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “It listens but it doesn’t obey. It feels like talking to something that already knows the ending.”

The prince studied her face. “Then we will rewrite the ending before it reaches us.”

After the council dismissed, Alden led her to the balcony that overlooked the city. The wind carried dust from the construction site near the outer wall. Workers were already patching the cracks. From here she could see the faint shimmer of energy around the palace grounds, like heat rising from pavement.

“The barrier is weakening,” he said. “If the Gate keeps expanding, it will consume the capital within days.”

Lena gripped the railing. “And my world?”

“It will suffer too. Two worlds cannot exist in the same space. One will destroy the other.”

She looked down at the streets below where children ran between stalls, unaware of what hung above them. “I can’t let that happen,” she said. “To either world.”

Alden’s expression softened. “Then we find another way.”

He handed her a folded parchment covered with symbols. “These are the ancient runes carved around the Gate. The scholars believe they represent cycles. If we can complete the pattern, we might stabilize the link long enough to close it safely.”

Lena studied the markings. They looked like spirals turning in opposite directions. “It’s missing pieces,” she said.

“That’s why we need you,” he replied. “The Gate reacts to your presence. Maybe it will show the rest when you stand near it again.”

She met his gaze. “And if it doesn’t?”

“Then one of us will have to make the choice it asked for,” he said. “And I would rather it be you than something without a soul.”

The words settled heavy between them.

That night the city prepared for another tremor. People lit candles in their windows, hoping light would protect them. The palace guards moved in silence. Even the air seemed to wait.

Lena stood by her window watching the stars fade behind thin clouds. She thought of her old world, her roommate, the smell of coffee, the sound of traffic. Then she looked at this one—the towers, the quiet gardens, the people who had become her friends.

Two worlds. One heart caught between them.

When the crystal began to glow again, she didn’t look away. She whispered to it, her voice steady. “If I have to choose, I’ll choose the world that still has hope.”

Far below, the ground trembled once more, soft but certain, as if something beneath the palace had heard her.