The starlight Directive

Victor Hollow's body slammed into the ground, the earth buckling under the force of the impact. Pain shot up his spine, but it barely registered. His head swam, and his vision blurred, flickering between the suffocating darkness of the void and the dim, eerie glow of the rift above. The air felt thick, suffocating, like the very atmosphere had turned to something viscous, clinging to his skin and making every breath a struggle.

He tried to move, to push himself up, but the pressure of the air was too much. It pressed down on him, forcing him deeper into the fractured ground beneath him, as if the earth itself wanted him to stay buried, to be swallowed whole. A low hum vibrated through his bones, the sound pulsing with the rift, syncing with his heartbeat.

"Victor Hollow…" The voice came again, clearer this time, like it was in his head. Its words were slow, deliberate, echoing in every corner of his mind. "Do you know what you've done?"

He gritted his teeth, but his body wouldn't obey. His arms were like lead, refusing to move. He had to fight this. He had to—

The creature's voice pierced through the fog again, but this time, it was more than just words. It was a command. A pull. Victor felt the tug at the base of his spine, drawing him toward the rift, toward the presence that waited beyond it. The air thickened again, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, he thought he saw the shapes of countless more creatures writhing within the rift, faint outlines like shadows just out of reach. Hungry. Watching.

He pushed against the force, his fingers digging into the earth, trying to crawl away, but his muscles locked. His breath came in ragged gasps. He felt as though his very essence was being peeled away, unraveling with every beat of his heart.

"No…" Victor whispered, though the word barely left his lips. He couldn't let it take him. He had to survive.

But the pull was too strong. It was in the air. It was in his mind. And then, there was a crack — like glass breaking, and suddenly, he was floating.

A high-pitched wail filled the air, and the ground beneath him seemed to melt away. He was weightless. The very fabric of reality seemed to fold inward, swirling like smoke. The rift loomed over him, vast and endless, stretching toward the heavens, pulling him toward the dark abyss. His hands shot out instinctively, but the rift seemed to defy his touch, a barrier he couldn't break. The creatures inside… they watched him, waited for him.

"Please…" Victor gasped, though he wasn't sure if the words were for the creatures or for himself. His mind felt clouded, his thoughts slipping between the layers of the rift and the waking world. The pull intensified, his chest tightening with the pressure, and then, with a jarring shock, something else reached through the rift.

Not a claw. Not a tendril.

A hand.

A hand that was made of something… alien. Its fingers stretched out with unnatural grace, every movement deliberate, as though it had existed long before Victor was born, long before the Starlight Directive had even taken shape. The skin, if it could be called skin, was smooth and translucent, rippling like water. The hand hovered inches from his face, cold radiating from its touch. Victor's pulse hammered in his throat, a freezing fear creeping through his veins.

"Victor…" The voice returned, but this time, it was no longer a whisper. It was a call — a command — rising from the depths of the void. "You are the key."

The words reverberated inside his skull, and his vision swam again. His mind fought against the sensation, but it was too much, too overwhelming. He couldn't focus. The voice, the hand, the rift… they were all consuming him, pulling him into something deeper, something that didn't belong in his world.

"You… you're the one who broke the Directive," the voice continued, distorted and unrecognizable now, like a thousand voices speaking at once. "You've awakened what was meant to remain dormant."

A sharp jolt of fear twisted through him, like a dagger to his chest. The Directive — the Starlight Directive — had never been broken. It had never been meant to fail. But here he was, caught in its unraveling, the balance between worlds falling apart around him.

He had done this. He had unleashed something beyond his understanding.

"I didn't… mean to…" Victor gasped, but his words were lost in the growing hum that filled the space around him. The rift seemed to expand, and the creatures inside it pressed closer, their forms becoming clearer, their movements faster. There were more of them now, and they weren't alone.

Suddenly, the world snapped back into focus. His hands shot out, instinctively grabbing for the ground. The rift hovered in the sky above him, but now it was surrounded by a crackling storm of energy, pulsing with chaotic light. Something was happening. Something was changing. The hand from the rift recoiled, retreating as if in fear.

Victor scrambled to his feet, his body shaking. He could feel the change in the air now — the shift in the fabric of reality itself. It wasn't just the creatures. It wasn't just the rift. It was the very world that was beginning to crack.

"Victor…" The voice was softer now, but still insistent, and for the first time, it felt familiar. Like a whisper from his past, from a life he'd forgotten. "You must choose."

He didn't understand. What choice? What was he supposed to do? How could he fix this? The Directive had been a constant — a guiding force in this world for as long as anyone could remember. But now, it felt like a lie. A broken promise.

But then, he saw something. Through the shifting layers of light and shadow, there was a figure emerging from the rift — a shape, darker than the night, with eyes that glowed like the stars. It wasn't like the creatures that had come before. It was something… different.

Victor's heart skipped a beat as the figure stepped forward. Its voice reached him, clear and cold, cutting through the chaos.

"You are the catalyst," it said, its tone both familiar and unsettling. "And you are the only one who can stop this."

The world seemed to hold its breath. For a moment, there was silence. Then, the rift pulsed once more, and the figures within it seemed to scream, an endless chorus of voices reverberating across the sky.

Victor's pulse quickened. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know if he had the strength to fight whatever was coming next, but one thing was certain: He had broken something. And now, the world would never be the same again.