She woke up after what felt like the first truly restful sleep in weeks. Her body felt light, her mind unburdened. But as soon as her eyes fluttered open, a sharp awareness jolted her—she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

The sunlight bathed the land in a golden glow—not harsh, not burning, just the kind of warmth that embraced rather than scorched. A cool breeze carried the scent of fresh grass, so pure it felt almost unreal. She inhaled deeply, but the serenity only heightened her unease.

Her name cut through the stillness.
“Hazelle… where are we?” a voice asked, trembling, almost demanding—as though Hazelle held the answers she herself was desperate to find.

She turned, scanning left and right, but all she saw were others like her—bewildered, disoriented, their expressions mirroring her own confusion. None of them knew how they had arrived in this place.

Theories were whispered, fragmented guesses tossed into the air, but they were nothing more than that—guesses.

Among the unfamiliar faces, Hazelle recognized only Olivia—the twelve-year-old child she had once worked with on a movie set. The girl clung tightly to Hazelle’s hand, her small fingers trembling. Olivia Hart, daughter of a powerful producer, was known in the industry as sickly and timid, a child easily shaken by even the smallest things.

Hazelle wasn’t just anyone. She was Hazelle Winters, one of Hollywood’s brightest names—an actress whose face was splashed across billboards from Los Angeles to Tokyo, whose performances had broken box office records and whose every move fed endless headlines. She had worked on some of the biggest projects in the world, a leading lady admired not only for her craft but for her undeniable presence. Millions followed her, adored her, envied her.

A man’s voice broke the uneasy silence.

“What… what is that next to the moon? Guys, am I the only one seeing two moons?”

At first, no one answered. His words seemed ridiculous, like the kind of nonsense a panicked mind blurts out. But the silence deepened, heavy and trembling, because everyone had already noticed. 

Two moons. Hanging side by side in the same sky. 

Hazelle tilted her head back, her breath catching in her throat. She saw it too—the twin moons, pale and watchful, casting a strange silver glow that made the grass shimmer unnaturally. Her stomach twisted. Nothing about this place fits. 

Her thoughts scrambled for reason, but came up empty.  A dream?  None of it explained how real the breeze felt against her skin, how vivid the sky looked above her. 

“Hazelle,” Olivia whispered, her voice trembling, “this… this isn’t right. What is going on?”

“Olivia don’t worry, I am sure whatever that is going on, has some valid explanation” hazelle replied. 

There were seven  of them in total and none of them had the faintest idea how they had ended up here. 

Hazelle began piecing names and faces together, small fragments of familiarity in the chaos. The tall, broad-shouldered blonde man introduced himself as Jaime, his presence commanding though his eyes betrayed unease. The oldest of the group was Vladimir, a man in his fifties with a heavy accent and a stern face, hailing from Russia. Quietest of all was Tadoshi, from eastern Japan—his calm, almost meditative stillness set him apart, though Hazelle wondered if it was true composure.

Among the women, Hazelle already knew Olivia.  Beside her was Nadiya, dark-skinned, athletic, her posture alert like someone trained to act before thinking, someone who had relied on discipline her whole life. And lastly there was Reina, the blonde with deep blue eyes, her European elegance almost too striking for this wild, uncertain place. 

Tadoshi finally broke his silence, his voice calm but unsettlingly certain.

“I think…” he paused, searching the faces around him, “…we are not on Earth anymore.” 

The words hung in the air like a stone dropped into still water. 

Before anyone could respond, Jaime let out a scoff, shaking his head.

“Not on Earth? Come on, man. That’s ridiculous.” He jabbed a finger toward Hazelle and Olivia. “I know these two. Hollywood actresses. Big names. This is obviously some kind of stupid prank. A set. A stunt. A show.”

He turned his head toward the empty horizon, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Hey! Where are the cameras? Huh? You think you’re clever? I know you’re out there hiding with your lenses!”

His voice rose with each word, breaking against the silence of the strange landscape. He laughed nervously, though his eyes darted like a man who wasn’t quite convinced of his own explanation.

“I’ve drank before—sure. But the next morning I’d wake up beside naked girls or in some filthy dumpster.”

“This though… this is the first time I’ve woken up somewhere that makes me question if the universe is personally messing with me.” 

Reina ignored Jaime’s blabbering, and said with a  sharp voice, eyes piercing deep blue as they fixed on Hazelle.

“Hey, you. What’s going on?” she demanded. “You and your friend—do you know something? Because your silence is getting ridiculous. Enough. Just tell us if you know something.”

All eyes turned toward Hazelle. Until now, she had kept quiet, watching, listening, trying to piece sense out of the chaos. 

Hazelle opened her mouth, then closed it again. What could she say? That she was just as lost, just as terrified? That being famous didn’t mean she had answers? 

Olivia shifted closer to her, whispering under her breath, “Hazelle… just tell them we don’t know anything.” 

Hazelle finally forced herself to speak, her voice low but steady.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m as confused as all of you.”

The words fell heavy, draining what little hope the others had been clinging to. They had looked to her as if fame or stardom could conjure answers, but she had none. Just questions that gnawed at her as much as theirs.

Then, before anyone could speak again, a shadow passed over the grass. The air seemed to shiver, the light dimming though the sky was still clear. Slowly, they looked up. 

Something massive moved above the horizon—wings, vast and leathery, cutting through the air with an otherworldly grace. Its body was scaled, glinting like molten metal in the sunlight, and its roar cracked through the stillness like thunder splitting the sky. 

A dragon.

The kind of creature they had only ever seen in stories and fairytales, yet there it was, alive and undeniable, circling lower, its eyes fixed directly on them.

For a breathless moment, no one moved. Then realization struck like lightning—

the dragon had noticed them. 

And it was coming closer.