The road stretched endlessly before Janus, a narrow ribbon of dust winding through silent meadows. The air was cool, the scent of wet grass rising after a night's rain. Somewhere in the distance, thunder murmured behind the clouds.

He had been walking since dawn. His legs ached, his clothes were damp, and the world felt larger than it ever had before. The hill he once called home was far behind him now, swallowed by mist and memory.

Grace walked beside him, her footsteps soundless.

She didn't seem to tire, though her human form appeared fragile bare feet touching the earth, white dress fluttering gently around her knees. Every so often, her gaze would drift skyward, as if she could hear something he couldn't.

They hadn't spoken much since leaving. Janus had too many questions, but the silence between them carried its own weight.

Finally, he asked, "Where exactly are we going?"

"To the city of Aurel," she replied. "The people there call it the City of the Happy Sheep."

He frowned. "That sounds... unsettling."

"It should." Her eyes softened. "The city is built on false peace joy without conscience. You'll see."

Janus kicked a pebble along the road. "You could at least tell me what I'm supposed to do when we get there."

"See the truth," she said simply. "The rest will follow."

"That's not much of a plan."

She smiled faintly. "You wanted destiny to be clear, didn't you? It rarely is."

He sighed, brushing his hair back from his face. "You talk like you've seen this before."

"I have," she said quietly. "Too many times."

Janus looked at her then, really looked at the faint light in her eyes, the weariness behind her calm. For the first time, he realized that Grace was not some untouchable being of perfection. She looked... tired. As if carrying something far heavier than him.

He wanted to ask about it, but before he could, she pointed ahead. "Look."

The path opened into a wide plain, and beyond it, shimmering in the distance, stood a city. Golden banners fluttered from its towers, and music carried faintly on the wind soft, cheerful, almost hypnotic.

"The City of the Happy Sheep," she murmured.

Even from afar, it looked too bright, too perfect.

They reached the city gates by afternoon. A large wooden arch bore a smiling emblem, a sheep surrounded by rays of light, painted in gold and white. The guards wore cheerful expressions, though their eyes were strangely vacant.

Janus's unease deepened.

"State your purpose," one of them said, voice oddly flat.

"I'm just a traveler," Janus replied, forcing a smile. "Looking for food and rest."

The guard nodded and gestured for him to enter. No questions, no inspection. Just an empty smile.

"That was... easy," Janus muttered as he walked through.

Grace didn't follow. When he turned, she was standing just outside the gate, her feet rooted to the ground.

"You're not coming?" he asked.

"I told you," she said, her voice carrying over the wind. "I cannot cross. The air here rejects divinity. You'll have to go alone."

"Alone?"

"I'll be near. Call me if danger comes."

He hesitated, uneasy. "Danger? You mean the happy people who paint sheep on everything?"

Grace's gaze was steady. "The world's worst monsters often wear smiles."

He wanted to argue, but her expression silenced him. With a reluctant nod, he turned and stepped fully into the city.

The gate closed behind him with a sound too final to be comforting.

The streets of Aurel glimmered with color and laughter. Shops lined the avenues, their windows filled with pastries, toys, and glittering trinkets. Music floated from every corner harps, flutes, and soft drums playing in perfect rhythm.

Every face he saw wore the same radiant smile.

Children skipped rope, old men sang songs, and women handed flowers to strangers. Yet beneath the joy, Janus felt an unease that he couldn't name.

Something was missing.

The air itself felt heavy, like syrup, sweet and cloying.

As he walked, a group of musicians passed him, their eyes blank as they strummed their instruments. One of them dropped a coin pouch, and when Janus bent to pick it up, the man didn't even notice. He just kept playing, face frozen in joy.

"This place is wrong," Janus whispered.

He followed the music deeper into the city until he reached a large tavern with a sign shaped like a smiling sheep. From inside came laughter wild, ecstatic, and tinged with something desperate.

A wooden plaque above the door read: "The Happy Sheep Inn."

Inside, the air was thick with heat and noise.

Men and women danced in chaotic rhythm, their faces flushed, and their eyes glassy. A sweet, metallic smell lingered under the perfume and alcohol. The floorboards trembled from the stomping feet.

Behind the counter, a waiter with unnervingly bright eyes greeted him. "Welcome, traveler! First meal's on the house!"

Janus hesitated. "What do you serve here?"

"Our finest special," the waiter said cheerfully. "Lamb stew and the nectar of joy!"

"Right," Janus murmured. "Sounds... delicious."

He took a seat at a corner table, scanning the crowd. Every few minutes, someone would pull a small pill from their pocket and swallow it with a smile. Their movements would grow wilder, their laughter louder.

He'd seen joy before but never like this. This wasn't happiness. It was hunger.

Then he noticed a man collapsing near the center of the room. The dancers surrounded him, laughing as he struggled to stand. Instead of helping him, they began forcing the pills into his mouth.

"Stop!" Janus shouted, pushing through the crowd.

The laughter only grew louder.

He reached the man just as the last pill dissolved on his tongue. The man convulsed, his body twisting and in a heartbeat, where he had stood was now a sheep, trembling on the floor.

The crowd cheered.

"Praise the Blessing!" someone shouted. "Another soul purified!"

Janus's stomach lurched.

The waiter appeared beside him, smiling still. "It seems God has answered our prayers. Isn't it wonderful?"

Janus stepped back, his voice shaking. "You're eating them, aren't you?"

The waiter blinked, then laughed pleasantly. "Eating? No, no celebrating. The blessed ones return as sustenance for those still walking the path. Such is the cycle of joy."

His grin didn't waver.

Janus turned and bolted through the door, the laughter chasing him into the street.

He didn't stop running until he reached a dark alley far from the lights and music. There, he doubled over, gasping for breath, bile rising in his throat.

He'd thought nothing could surprise him after what had happened with his family, but this city was something else entirely.

He slid down against the wall and pressed his palms to his face. "Why me?" he whispered. "Why do I have to see this?"

Part 2 Available Soon