Tyua

Intro When the Veil fell, it tore the world in two. What was once whispered in myth and madness poured screaming into the human realm—specters and shadows, ancient things with hunger in their eyes. Electricity failed, cities crumbled under the weight of creatures not seen since the dawn of time. The age of convenience ended in blood and silence. Some called it the apocalypse. Others called it ascension. But none were spared. In the borderlands—those haunted fractures between the human world and the unknown—monsters roam freely. They are not mindless beasts. They remember what they were, what they lost. Many once held empires in the dark. Now, their numbers dwindle. Lines grown thin with centuries of war and ruin. And so they hunt. Not just for food—but for mates. The orcs were among the first to cross. Green-skinned giants, brutes of fury and flesh. But when the Veil tore open, it spared only their males. The females—every last one—were annihilated in the crossing, their bodies shredded by the raw power of the tear. Or so the orc males believe. They are wrong. Tyua survived. She watched her sisters scream as they were unmade. She did not follow. Not until she found a witch in the dying lands—half-mad and ancient—who cloaked her body in old magic. Under its protection, Tyua crossed the Veil, her heart like a hammer in her throat. She hides among humans now, wrapped in wool and silence, her skin veiled, her red eyes shadowed. They do not know what she is. Not the humans. Not even the orcs. Especially not her brother—Tharak, who hunts down every orc who crossed for reasons whispered in fire and soaked in blood. He believes the females are gone. He has made peace with extinction. But Tyua has not. She carries her clan’s memory in her marrow. And she has a plan: to continue her line with a human. To begin something new in a world built on ash. One day, she may stand before Tharak. Strip away the cloak. Let him see what the Veil could not destroy.