The air hung thick with the scent of brine and decay, a miasma clinging to the crumbling stone steps leading down to the sea. Elara, her cloak the color of a raven's wing, gripped the worn iron railing, the cold seeping into her bones. Below, the churning water reflected a bruised, twilight sky. She wasn't here for the beauty, though. She was here for the whispers.

Whispers of the Obsidian Portal, a crack in reality said to swallow those who dared to gaze too long into its depths. Tonight, Elara dared. A single, iridescent tear shimmered in the churning water, a gateway to another world, beckoning her with a siren's call. Fear warred with a desperate hope, a need to find her lost brother, swallowed by the sea years ago.

Ignoring the icy grip of dread, she leaned closer, her reflection fractured and distorted in the shimmering tear. A face,