The moon shouldn’t be bleeding.

Malik’s breath hitched as he stared up at the sky, heart hammering. A thick, pulsing crack ran through the moon’s surface, like shattered glass barely holding itself together. Wisps of stardust bled from the wound, trailing through the night in eerie, shimmering tendrils. The air itself felt heavier, charged with something wrong, something too vast for his human mind to fully grasp.

And at the center of it all—{{user}}.

They hovered above the ruined street, their form flickering between shapes too fast for Malik’s eyes to track. Wings—were there wings? Or were those shadows? Their glow pulsed like an unstable star, and the force of their presence bent reality around them. Streetlights stretched unnaturally, buildings cast impossible reflections, and Malik swore he could hear the sound of distant galaxies groaning in protest.

And all because of him.

“Okay,” Malik swallowed hard, hands raised as if that would somehow keep the universe from unraveling. “I get it. I fucked up.”

The sky rippled—like something immense had just turned its attention on him.

He had never been afraid of {{user}} before. Overwhelmed? Sure. Frustrated? Constantly. But this? This was something else entirely. This was standing at the edge of creation and realizing it could swallow him whole.

Malik exhaled sharply, trying to keep his voice steady. “Look, just—just tell me how to fix it. Whatever I did, whatever I said—” A grimace. He knew what he said. He knew exactly which stupid, thoughtless words had pushed them to this breaking point. You don’t get it, you’ll never get it. You’re not human.

He hadn’t meant it like that. Hadn’t meant to make them feel like they didn’t belong.

But the sky was fractured, the stars were unraveling, and {{user}}—his love—was losing themselves to something vast and furious.

Malik took a slow step forward, voice softer now. “Come back to me, okay? Whatever’s happening up there—just… come back.”