The cold came first.

Not the sharp bite of winter wind, but a deeper chill that lived in metal itself. Azuris lay curled on a floor that looked like glass but felt like starlight made solid. His body—if that's what this was—felt wrong. Too heavy. Too light. Like someone had taken the idea of a person and built it from leftover pieces of night sky.

Blue symbols drifted past his face. They weren't quite letters, weren't quite pictures. More like... memories that hadn't happened yet. One brushed against his cheek and he felt it—a tingle like recognition, gone before he could understand why.

His chest hurt.

Not pain, exactly. More like a pressure, like something trying to push its way out. He lifted a hand that gleamed like polished water and pressed it to the center of his chest. There it was—a crystal, no bigger than a bird's heart, beating with light that flickered wrong. A crack ran through it, thin as spider's silk but deep enough to make the light stutter.

"What's wrong with me?" The words came out as sound, but also as light, little blue sparks that floated up and joined the symbols. None of them answered.

He sat up slowly. His back made tiny clicking sounds, like settling ice. The chamber around him was perfectly round, walls made of crystal so clear it barely seemed to exist. Through them, he could see...

Fire.

Not the hungry kind that devours forests, but celebration-fire. Rockets of gold and silver that didn't fall but spiraled upward, painting the sky with flowers that bloomed and faded in the same breath. Creatures moved below—some walked, some flew, some seemed to dance between the two. Their shapes blurred together in the distance, becoming a river of color and motion.

Music reached him, muffled by the dome. Drums that sounded like distant thunder. Flutes like birds learning to laugh. Underneath it all, a hum that made the crack in his crystal ache.

The festival. He didn't know how he knew the word, but it fit. The MyriadCarnival. Every being from every corner of everywhere, gathered to... to what? Celebrate something. Something important.

Something about him.

The thought came unbidden, settling in his chest like a second heartbeat. They weren't celebrating despite him. They were celebrating because he was here. Because he'd opened his eyes.

A shadow moved across the dome wall.

Not one of the dancing shapes below—this was different. Darker. Sharper. It stood just beyond the crystal, watching. When Azuris turned his head, the shadow stepped back, melting into the patterns of light and music until he couldn't tell if he'd imagined it.

But he hadn't. He could still feel where its attention had touched him, like a cold finger trailing down his spine.

The symbols around him started moving faster, swirling into patterns that almost made sense. Almost. They showed him the festival, yes, but also... other things. A gate, massive and ancient, beginning to open. Hands reaching through cracks in the world. A choice that felt heavy as mountains.

His crystal pulsed harder. The crack widened, just a hair's breadth, and for a moment he felt everything at once—every dancer's joy, every musician's hope, every shadow's fear. It was too much. Too big for a body made of metal and light.

He needed to move.

Standing took effort, like learning gravity for the first time. His legs wobbled, then steadied. Each step rang against the crystal floor—soft, metallic sounds that echoed back as questions. Who are you? Why are you here? What have you broken?

The dome had no door. But as he approached the wall, it simply... wasn't there anymore. The crystal became mist, became air, became an invitation. Cold night air rushed in, carrying smells he had no names for—sweet things, burning things, living things.

The music grew louder. Not just sounds now, but feelings. The drums beat against his metal skin like warm rain. The flutes wrapped around his thoughts, gentle as silk scarves. Underneath, that same humming that made his broken crystal sing in response.

He took one step outside.

The ground here wasn't crystal. It was something softer, warmer—like compressed starlight that had learned to be earth. His feet sank slightly, leaving prints that glowed blue for a heartbeat before fading. Creatures nearby turned to look. A being with wings of colored glass. A woman whose hair moved like water. A child made entirely of bells that chimed when they laughed.

None of them seemed afraid. Curious, yes. A few waved. One offered him something that might have been food, or might have been a tiny sun wrapped in sugar. He didn't know how to respond, so he just... looked.

The festival stretched in every direction. Booths that sold impossible things—bottled laughter, memories of tomorrow, colors that hadn't been invented yet. Performers who juggled their own shadows, who sang in languages that tasted like different seasons. Above it all, the fireworks kept blooming, each one a small universe being born and dying in perfect beauty.

But underneath the joy, he felt it. The wrongness. Like a single off-key note in an otherwise perfect song. The shadow he'd seen wasn't the only darkness here. There were others, hidden in the bright corners, watching. Waiting.

The crystal in his chest pulsed again, stronger this time. The crack sent out tiny threads of light, like roots searching for soil. Each thread connected to something—a dancer's smile, a musician's heartbeat, a child's wonder. All feeding into him, making the fracture ache and sing at once.

He was the reason for all this. The celebration, the gathering, the hope in every stranger's eyes. But he was also the reason for the watching shadows, for the off-key note, for the crack that shouldn't exist.

Azuris walked deeper into the carnival, leaving footprints of blue light that faded behind him. Around him, the music swelled and the fireworks bloomed and the creatures danced, all of them part of a story he didn't understand yet.

The night air tasted of cinnamon and possibility. Somewhere ahead, someone was calling his name—not with words, but with light. The same blue as his crystal, reaching out like a hand.

He followed it, one careful step at a time, into the heart of the festival that had begun the moment he first opened his eyes.

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