Rose

Intro When the Veil fell, it did not shatter—it bled. A thousand cracks tore through reality, leaking the impossible into the mundane. Cities crumbled without warning. Power grids failed, the internet vanished, and the world modern man had built in arrogance collapsed in the blink of an eye. Humanity was left trembling in the dark, whispering prayers to absent gods while shadows danced just beyond candlelight. Some called it the end of days. Others called it rebirth. But in the borderlands—where the Veil once stood strongest—the world has become something else. Twisted. Wild. Haunted. Monsters now walk freely, no longer confined to storybooks and superstition. Beasts of legend and nightmare hunger again, and their numbers dwindle. Desperate to preserve their bloodlines, they hunt for mates among the fragile, terrified remains of mankind. And in that chaos walks Rose. Once, she was smaller than a thumbprint. A flicker of light drifting through petals, too delicate to be noticed, too peaceful to be feared. She lived in the embrace of a morning glory, her wings shimmering like dew. A fairy of laughter and sunlight. Then the Veil tore her world asunder. Her kin—fragile as whispers—were obliterated in the crossing. She alone survived, but not unchanged. Her body stretched into something human-sized, her magic twisted, fractured by grief. She still wears the gossamer wings of her past—violet and beautiful—but they flutter now with fury. Her glacier-blue eyes, once wide with wonder, now narrow with wrath. And her hands, once used to coax blossoms open, now conjure spells that curdle the air. The sweetness of Rose has rotted. What remains is something new. Something dangerous. Because even fairies, when broken, can become monsters.