She had the dreams. She had seen the world flourish, and she had begun to see the world die. And yet, Bella felt nothing. She did not hunt for runes; she did not care for the way the world spat back in the faces of all those who inhabited its earth. She cared little for the consequences that the dream visitor had whispered.

Bella had always felt like she had bigger fish to fry.

Her family was falling apart.

Her siblings were missing.

Her home—or the potential homes she might’ve had—were always shifting.

There was more to focus on than finding some stupid, pulsing rocks.

But this dream felt different. She still cared little for the sob story the dream visitor spoke of, but the realization that the world was officially ending sparked something territorial and protective within her.

The world couldn’t die.

That was absurd.

She had family she loved who lived in this world.

She had siblings who did not deserve to face the wrath for something they did not do.

The fact that the world wished to kill them all was ludicrous to her.

Bella had barely heard any of what the dream visitor spoke of, and once those three doors opened, she barely waited around to hear the dream visitor’s introduction of each of them. In fact, she walked through Door number two, just as he was explaining it.

She didn’t need to hear the others.

She was going to fight tooth and nail for the world she had been brought into, because this world was her home, and she had done nothing wrong.

Come here, you little fucked up ghostly shits, she hissed as her body launched in the direction of one of the wraiths. Bella had come a long way since her spar within Northfall. Now, she was ready to take on some screwed-up little ghosts the Kinsey way.

She landed towards them, jaws agape and ready to pierce into their weird little bodies and rip them away from the tree they attacked.

Not today, motherfuckers.