Forevermore was unraveling.
But the real world wasn't far behind.
The fog had breached the boundaries—no longer confined to forests and fields. It seeped into homes, curled under doors, and clung to windows like frost. People woke up coughing. Pets refused to go outside. The air itself felt… wrong.
The government responded with panic.
Curfew was shifted to daylight hours.
No one was allowed outside after 12 p.m.
The streets emptied. Schools closed. Markets collapsed. The military rolled in with tanks and drones, but even they couldn't pierce the fog.
And in the middle of it all, Lily waited.
It had been two weeks.
Two weeks since Brittany and Mira vanished.
Two weeks of silence.
Lily stood at the edge of the woods, her glittery backpack slung over one shoulder, her eyes fierce.
"I'm going in," she said.
A group had gathered—neighbors, classmates, even the barista from the corner café. They were scared. But they were ready.
The policeman who had once helped Brittany showed up too, pale and shaking.
"I'll go with you," he said.
He took one step into the fog—
And collapsed.
Lily blinked. "Okay. That was dramatic."
They moved forward.
The fog thickened with every step.
It clung to their clothes. It filled their lungs. People began coughing, wheezing, stumbling.
But Lily pressed on.
The road twisted, the trees loomed, and then—
A shape in the mist.
A cabin.
No… not a cabin.
A mansion.
Tall. Crooked. Ancient.
Its windows glowed faintly. A treehouse stood beside it, swaying gently in the wind.
Lily stepped forward.
"Everyone stay quiet," she whispered.
They crept inside.
The air was colder. The walls groaned. The floorboards whispered.
Then—
A growl.
Low. Wet. Close.
They dove behind furniture, behind curtains, behind shelves.
The growling grew louder.
And the mansion held its breath.
To be continued…