Eclipsia’s sky used to have three moons. That night… there was a fourth.

  Not a real moon, but a circular scar suspended in the firmament.

  Pale. Flickering.

  Like an eye that didn’t know how to blink.

  —

  Sera and I didn’t speak. We didn’t need to. We both felt it:

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Something was watching us.

  Not from the forest.

  But from the script itself.

  —

  When we returned to the cabin, the inside had changed. Not physically.

  But every object was slightly… off.

  As if someone had imitated our reality without fully understanding it.

  —

  I sat down, opened the journal, and flipped to the last written page.

  A new sentence had appeared. A message.

  > “Actors who notice the play must either leave the stage… or remain forever.”

  —

  Sera read in silence, then looked up.

  “You’re crossing a threshold, Ryouhei. You’re no longer just an extra.”

  “Then what am I?”

  She stared at me for a long moment.

  “An error… that hasn’t yet decided whether it’ll save us or destroy us.”

  —

  We didn’t sleep that night.

  The fourth moon watched us from its crack in the sky.

  And every time it blinked… a possibility vanished.