The girl named Little Star seemed to see something trustworthy in William, so she allowed him to stay with her, despite him being a complete stranger.
They sat across from each other in the dim light of the shelter, the glow from a small lantern casting soft shadows on the walls. For a while, they simply talked. William introduced himself properly, and she did the same, explaining that her name wasn't actually Little Star, but that's what her father used to call her. Her real name had faded from memory over time.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, reaching into a small metal box where she kept her supplies.
William shook his head gently. "Thank you, but I can't take your food. It looks like you barely have enough for yourself."
She gave him a tired but genuine smile. "It's okay. I don't eat much. I'm used to it."
He nodded, appreciating the offer but still refusing. After talking a bit more, they decided to venture outside again to explore and hopefully find something useful. The forest loomed ahead, dark and twisted, its trees towering like silent sentinels. Gnarled branches clawed at the air, and the fog hung low, curling around their ankles like smoke.
As they made their way toward the old farmhouse they had encountered before, the crunch of dried leaves beneath their feet echoed unnaturally loud. The path was barely visible, swallowed by nature's slow reclamation of the land.
"I've never been this far out," Little Star admitted, glancing warily around. "I usually stay near the woods. I only found this place by accident today."
"It doesn't look like anyone's lived here for a long time," William muttered, studying the farmhouse's cracked windows and ivy-covered walls.
She nodded. "It's strange. Things only come alive when the blood moon is out. When it's gone, everything goes quiet again."
William looked up at the sky. No moon. No sun. Only a pale, ambient glow that came from nowhere and everywhere.
"You don't know what the sun is?" he asked, baffled.
Little Star tilted her head. "What's that?"
"It's... it gives warmth and light during the day. It rises in the morning and sets at night."
She blinked. "Oh. I just thought the light came when the moon left. I never knew it had a name."
The two walked toward the mansion. Its presence loomed larger the closer they got, like it was watching them.
"We probably have eight hours before the blood moon returns," she said quietly. "But you can never be too sure. The reason I was out last time was because the moon appeared suddenly. It wasn't supposed to be there."
William's steps slowed. A chill ran down his spine. "That happened when I arrived... You think it's connected to me?"
"I don't know," she replied. "But it wasn't normal."
They reached the door of the mansion. William tried it, but it didn't budge. He punched it with all his strength, but it didn't even tremble.
"It's like it's made of solid steel," he muttered.
Little Star stepped up beside him and pulled a lockpick from her pack. "Let me try."
She knelt and worked quickly. With a click, the lock turned.
"Got it."
They stepped inside—but immediately, something felt wrong. A wave of dread washed over them. William turned and looked up.
The blood moon was back, hanging in the sky like an eye of judgment.
A horrible sound rose from the ground—skittering, hissing. When they looked out, they were surrounded. Thousands of black insects crawled from every direction.
"We need to run!" she screamed, bolting for the trees.
"No! They're coming from there too!"
William didn't hesitate. He grabbed her by the waist, hoisted her into his arms, and sprinted into the mansion.
"Put me down!" she cried, struggling briefly before going limp.
He slammed the door shut. The insects hit it seconds later, their bodies piling against it, claws and mandibles scraping metal and wood.
"They can't get in..." he whispered.
Little Star turned to him, eyes wide. "Why here? This could be a trap."
"The first time I saw this place, the barn had holes in it—signs of wear. But the house? Not a scratch. No broken windows, no weathering. Even now, it's the same. I figured... maybe they can't get in."
They both sat on the floor, listening. The noise outside eventually faded. The insects, for now, had given up.
"Maybe we should stay here," Little Star said, hugging her knees. "This place feels safer than my old hideout."
William nodded. "Yeah. Let's see what we can find inside."
They searched the mansion. Room after room—luxurious, ornate, filled with beds and polished furniture—but nothing useful. Finally, they found the kitchen, and beneath it, a hidden cellar stocked with fresh food: fruit, meat, cans, even wine.
"This stuff looks new," William said, amazed.
In another part of the house, he found a study. Dusty, untouched. A full suit of armor stood in one corner, with a massive two-handed sword made of pure gold and set with a gem.
He tried to lift it. It didn't move. Not even a centimeter.
He found books too—but they were all blank. Not a single word.
Back in the living room, he reunited with Little Star. She offered to cook something with their new supplies while William rested on the couch.
As he sat, a strange pressure pressed down on him. His vision flickered, then blurred, and before he could react—
He was back. On the ship. Staring out over the endless ocean.
He blinked, confused, heart racing. Slowly, he pinched his arm.
"Was it all... just a dream?"