Ash turned the photo over in their hands, tracing the burned edges as memories threatened to surface. The atmosphere felt heavy, as if the walls themselves whispered secrets too old for the world. James leaned forward, his elbows pressed into his knees, the weight of their loss and confusion settling between them.
"Do you ever feel like... like we're not supposed to be here? That we're different somehow?"
"All the time," Ash replied quietly, glancing at the locked door at the end of the hallway—a door their supposed aunt always kept off-limits.
The mist curled around Ash's fingers, cold and tingling, sending sparks of energy up their arms. James gasped as the room vibrated with a low frequency, shaking picture frames and making the lights flicker. Instinctively, Ash reached out, the mist responding to their touch, forming symbols that hovered in the air.
"What is this? Are we doing this?"
"I think we are... I think we've always been able to," James whispered, awestruck as the symbols danced across their skin.
Ash hesitated at the threshold, heart pounding, while James stepped forward, drawn by a pull he couldn't explain. The tapestry seemed to move, the figures coming to life with every breath they took. A voice—familiar yet distant—echoed through the chamber, speaking in a forgotten tongue that lingered at the edge of memory.
"Ash, look... that's us," James murmured, his eyes wide as the realization settled in. Ash nodded, the truth blossoming painfully in their chest.
Ash focused, sweat beading on their brow as they lifted an ancient tome with a mere thought. James grinned, summoning a sphere of blue flame that danced across his palm. Their fear faded with each success, replaced by a sense of destiny and unity.
"If we can do this together, maybe we can find out what really happened to Mom,"
"And why we're here at all," James added, resolve hardening in his voice.
The siblings stand back to back, their powers swirling in the air—a shield of light against encroaching night. The shadow speaks in a guttural hiss, promising doom if they do not surrender. But Ash and James stand firm, their hands entwined, the energy between them brighter than ever.
"We aren't afraid of you. Not anymore,"
"This is our home. We will protect it—and the worlds beyond," James declared, their combined power flaring.
Ash and James embrace, tears of relief and joy mingling on their cheeks. The house feels lighter, as if the weight of centuries has been lifted. In the distance, a voice calls—soft and familiar—and the siblings know their journey to reclaim their past and protect the paranormal worlds has only just begun.
"We have each other. And we have purpose,"
"Whatever comes next, we'll face it together,"
