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Behind the window of the room where Clara was staying, a great city stretched beneath the orange glow of sunset.

The Sanctuary of the Stars stood at the very top of a great mountain, where the peaks of its towers seemed to brush against the clouds. From there, Clara could see a large portion of the vast city.

The small houses she could make out were distinguished by their red rooftops, which contrasted against the yellowish-white of their walls.

Between the buildings and streets, a wide river flowed through the city, branching into streams that extended throughout the city.

What caught Clara's attention most were the enormous buildings scattered throughout the city, their towers rising high into the sky.

“This is incredible,” she said in amazement. “What are those towers?”

“They are the sanctuaries of the gods,” Aster explained as she came to stand beside her. “Pay attention. The towers should be lighting up soon.”

Clara looked at the old woman, then turned her gaze back toward the landscape. After a few seconds, one of the more distant towers began to glow with an intense red light at its highest point.

“That is the Sanctuary of Fire, and that one is the Sanctuary of Time,” she said, pointing toward another tower that was lighting up in dark green. “It means the Heroes have arrived.”

“Izan...” Clara whispered to herself. “I hope you're here too.”

“We already lit our own tower,” Aster continued proudly. “You were the first to arrive, Hero Clara.”

“Please, just call me Clara.”

Although she couldn't deny that being called a hero was partially exciting, she was also embarrassed by being treated as though she were some kind of celebrity.

As she watched the lights of other towers flicker to life, a question came to her mind.

“How often do... Heroes come to this world? I feel like you weren't just waiting for us, but that you had everything prepared for our arrival.”

“It is not common at all. The arrival of the Heroes is an extraordinary event,” the old woman said, sounding somewhat elated. “The last time Heroes set foot on these lands, even my mother had not been born yet.”

“Hmm... I see,” the girl said thoughtfully, remembering the woman's age.

Beyond the towers and the sprawling city stood an imposing building that Clara couldn't quite describe. Its size and massive surrounding walls made it look like a medieval castle, but what confused her was that part of the main structure behind them was made up of enormous arches and columns characteristic of classical architecture.

For a moment, Clara thought she was looking at sections of the Colosseum in Rome. But that wasn't the only remarkable thing. On the right wing of the castle stood a golden-and-blue dome reminiscent of St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican.

The castle continued with cylindrical towers and stone bridges connecting the entire structure from one side to the other, making it look like an enormous labyrinth.

“We should hurry, miss. Night will fall soon, and there will surely be a celebration being prepared at the castle,” Aster warned as she opened the wardrobe, which was filled with elegant dresses.

Clara nodded, fascinated, and changed.

After half an hour and four different dresses, she chose one with a particular style she had never seen before, and which, to her surprise, suited her remarkably well.

“The carriage is waiting,” Brion said from outside the room.

“A carriage?” Clara asked excitedly.

With everything she was experiencing, she truly felt like a princess.

“Yes, you will travel to the palace by carriage,” the old woman confirmed. “Shall we?”

Excited, the girl looked at herself in the full-length mirror beside the door and admired the elegant blue dress she wore. The sleeves had a Victorian style, puffed at the shoulders, then tapered to a fitted finish around her arms, ending just above the elbows.

The dress had a deep neckline across the chest, with the fabric crossing over itself like a Roman toga, fitting her body perfectly.

“Let's go,” she said with a smile.

They left the room and walked through more corridors until they reached a large hall whose walls and ceiling were painted as though they were part of a massive mural.

Clara would have liked to stop and admire the paintings more closely, but the sanctuary's apostles had gathered to watch her leave. Embarrassed, she decided to quicken her pace and keep her eyes on the floor so she wouldn't trip over the new sandals she was wearing.

At the other end of the mural hall stood a large gate, and beyond it was the carriage she had dreamed of seeing.

The carriage was enclosed, reminding her of the typical royal carriages she had seen in so many movies. But there was something that completely distinguished it from anything she knew: the horses.

The two animals pulling the carriage were enormous, so tall that they stood twice Clara's height. Their bodies were sturdy and muscular, and their manes split in two around the middle of their backs.

Almost as impressive as the horses themselves was the magnificent golden-and-white armor they wore.

A man who served as the carriage driver hurried to open the door, bowing as he did so.

He discreetly fixed his eyes on Clara with curiosity. The girl tried to avoid eye contact, but she couldn't help feeling uncomfortable.

The man wore a short black toga over a white shirt, with long black trousers underneath that matched the toga.

Clara thought it looked like a strange combination of a Roman outfit and a tuxedo, yet for some reason it worked remarkably well, much like her own dress.

Once inside the carriage, the girl gave a glance at the apostles watching from a distance and, among them, managed to spot Vash struggling to make his way through the crowd.

Before she could even say goodbye, the carriage began to move.

The journey was long, uncomfortable, and boring. Although Clara wanted to look through the windows, Aster suggested, in an authoritative tone, that it would be better not to move the curtains.

“The people of the city are watching, and it would be better if they didn't see the Heroes' faces. It could be dangerous,” she warned.

“How could it be dangerous?”

“Catastrophes have many forms and many ways of acting,” the old woman explained. “The emperor will tell you everything you need to know, but for now, it would be better to travel in silence. Outside the sanctuary, the world has ears.”

Those words shattered Clara's fairy-tale princess fantasy. For a moment, she had forgotten everything concerning the mission they were supposed to carry out.

The rest of the journey passed in silence. The bustle outside could be heard, along with the sound of the carriage wheels rolling over the stone streets and the horses' hooves.

When the carriage finally came to a stop, the driver opened the door once again.

Clara carefully stepped down, making sure not to catch the long dress on the edges of the carriage. Once her feet touched the gray gravel, she saw an imposing gate standing wide open before her.

Everything there was enormous and magnificent, making her feel incredibly small.

Guarding the entrance were two soldiers completely covered in rough golden armor. They stood motionless, but the openings in their helmets made it clear they were human.

“This is where we part ways for now, Hero Clara,” Aster said from the carriage door. “Only Heroes are permitted inside.”

“Will we see each other again?” she asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

“Most likely,” Aster nodded. “I will have your belongings sent to your quarters.”

“Thank you.”

The woman then inclined her head in farewell and signaled the driver to move on.

Behind the departing carriage, a green garden was revealed, with a large fountain at its center. Since it was already night, Clara couldn't make out the carved figures decorating the fountain.

“Clara? Clara!”

The young woman immediately turned around upon recognizing her friend's voice, and her heart began pounding with excitement.

Izan, who was already inside the castle, came running toward her. Inside, everything was so bright and immaculate that it almost dazzled her.

The two embraced tightly for several seconds.

“You had me worried,” he said, pulling away slightly.

“Well, I didn't exactly choose to be the first one picked by a goddess,” she joked, giving him a wide smile. “I was worried about you too, idiot.”

They looked at each other, happy that they had managed to reunite after so many confusing events.

Izan smiled, and Clara smiled back, her cheeks slightly flushed with joy.

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Izan smiled, while Clara's expression remained frozen, the pallor of death still coloring her cheeks.

Chunks of his friend's flesh hung from his mouth, while his blood- and mud-covered hands still clutched Clara's mangled arm.

In that instant, Izan broke free from the frenzied madness of hunger and returned to reality. A reality he had forgotten during the memories, as though they had been nothing more than a terrible dream.

“What the fuck am I doing?” he asked himself, releasing Clara's arm and spitting out the pieces of flesh. “What is all this? What the fuck is happening?”

He screamed as tears of frustration welled up in his eyes. He had regained enough strength to cry.

“What the fuck is happening to me? Enough... Enough... Please, enough... Let all of this be a lie... please, someone, anyone... please, get me out of this fucking nightmare.”

His hands trembled as he grabbed and pulled at his hair, nearly tearing it out by the roots.

“Enough, enough... Enough!” he screamed in a broken voice as he collapsed into the mud. “Someone... please, help me, ple—”

«Izan!» Clara's voice cried out inside his mind. «Izan, listen to me! I'm still here!»

Startled, the boy briefly regained his composure. He looked at his friend's corpse and immediately shook his head.

“No. You're not. No. You're not. You're dead, and I'm crazy.”

«Don't be stupid,» Clara's voice scolded him from within his mind. «I'm still here.»

“Here where?” he asked, finally giving in to his friend's insistence.

«Here, where we were before... in the palace.» She paused, then added, «I'm still here. Believe me, I'm still here.»

Izan's eyes widened in surprise, and for an instant, the sky visible through the opening above the pit turned blood-red and star-filled.

The boy sat down and watched as the mud and stagnant water slowly took on a greenish hue.

“All right,” he said to the Clara inside his mind. “All right, I'll believe you... and if it turns out I'm actually going insane... well, I think madness is better than this fucking nightmare.”

Once he finally accepted it, green, spectral arms emerged from the water and slowly began pulling him under.