The Golden Dust of Dread

“Oh, I nearly forgot something crucial…”

A sudden spark of realization ignited in Chloe’s mind as she gazed at her reflection, recalling something vital. Though her body was utterly exhausted, her magical energy, surprisingly, surged with an unexpected fullness, threatening to overflow.

As she channeled her magic, a luminous white glow enveloped her, and Chloe emerged in her Magical Girl form.

Memories, not so distant yet long locked away, began to surface. She vividly recalled her very first transformation, hiding within a temporarily rented room, her heart heavy with hesitation. While she didn’t exactly reject the idea of becoming a Magical Girl, at that juncture, she remained utterly oblivious to what the role truly entailed. The sole impetus that ultimately led her to transform was Yilan, who had perished at the hands of a monster while protecting her.

Chloe’s entire comprehension of what it meant to be a Magical Girl stemmed from this tragic event, fueling her anxiety about whether she could ever embody such a figure—one capable of sacrificing her life for strangers, driven by a mission born of her powers.

Upon first stepping into this fantastical otherworld, no one from the Watchtower appeared to guide her. Perhaps her transformation had bypassed the usual protocols, rendering her undetectable. Consequently, she was left to navigate the mysteries of magic on her own, bravely venturing out to seek monsters, all while struggling to live under an identity that held no place in society. This solitary existence persisted until she was unexpectedly discovered and recruited by the Watchtower.

If she were to pinpoint her spiritual anchor during that time, it would likely be the guilty yearning in her heart, a pursuit of the Magical Girl who had sacrificed herself to save her.

Yet now…

Even though the girl reflected in the mirror largely resembled her first transformation, Chloe sensed, with a subtle unease, that something profound had shifted beneath the surface. Her entire attire was remarkably simple, resembling a single piece of white silk edged with gold, draped and twisted around her body to form a dress. Despite its simplicity, it exuded a distinct elegance. Both of her arms were encased in separate pieces of white fabric, adorned with intricate golden patterns. Her calves, too, were protected by smooth white silk stockings, their transition from skin-tone to white almost imperceptible, seamlessly continuing downwards until they met the exquisite black leather shoes on her feet.

That such an ensemble could be deemed battle attire had always struck Chloe as dubious. Yet, through several real battles, it had indeed proven its protective prowess, rivaling even heavy plate armor, though it still felt as flimsy as paper when confronted by truly formidable foes. One could only conclude that the world of magic operated by its own enigmatic rules.

The sole external alterations across her entire body were the two fox ears atop her head and the tail sprouting from behind her. Those ears, triangular in shape, drooped gently, their pale golden hue matching her hair. They appeared so subtle, almost like a mere hair accessory… Wait.

Now that she thought about it, where had her fox hairpin gone after her transformation? And Papertreat was missing too.

A surge of panic prompted Chloe to frantically search her surroundings. Yet, no matter how meticulously she scoured the room, there was no trace of them. How could Papertreat, the doll she had just named, vanish in the blink of an eye? Could her newfound fox features somehow be connected to their disappearance?

Drawing her tail around to the front, Chloe gently ran her fingers through its soft fur. A fleeting glint of light momentarily captured her attention. Night Moon had apparently mentioned before that her hair color had lightened; now, it seemed, that might not have been her imagination.

Chloe positioned her tail beside the curtain. The alarm clock on her desk displayed nine o’clock in the morning, and as it did every day at this hour, the sun outside spilled onto the sheer fabric of the curtains, transforming the light into an amber gold that bathed the entire room.

Having once noticed a similarity between her hair color and this ambient glow, she decided to compare them once more. As she had suspected, the fur on her tail was significantly lighter than the golden hue of the curtain. She drew the tail closer to her eyes, her fan-like eyelashes fluttering as she meticulously examined the strands of fur. A faint gold, shimmering with tiny specks… of dust?

No, she realized with a jolt—those weren’t specks of dust; they were emitting their own golden light. These “dust” motes drifted from her fur like spores, shimmering with a golden luminescence that emanated from within them, not merely reflected. It was as if… her fur was shedding its golden essence.

While foxes shedding fur was entirely normal, Chloe had never heard of them shedding their color.

What was even more terrifying was the sudden, rapid pounding of her heart, like a pressurized water pump, the muffled thumps reverberating ominously within her chest as a chilling realization dawned upon her. She lifted a strand of hair near her ear, and after a meticulous inspection, her pupils constricted sharply, a wave of unease crashing over her.

No, this couldn’t be right… Her hair, too, was dispersing these golden “dust” motes. And her hands! Her entire body was! Her whole being was emitting these bizarre, luminous particles.

What did this portend?

Chloe couldn’t comprehend it, but her gut instinct screamed that this was no auspicious sign. The dim golden light, usually a warm hue that offered comfort, now seemed to wear a sinister countenance. Oppressive and eerie, the anxiety of being manipulated by unseen forces, of falling into an unpredictable conspiracy, squeezed Chloe’s heart. She felt like prey cornered against a wall, unable to discern the hunter’s face even in her final moments.

“No!”

As if discarding a scorching hot potato, she flung her tail away. Chloe stared at her reflection, fear driving her backwards, each heavy, deepening breath echoing in her ears like a series of brutal blows against her heart.

“Ah!”

The ceiling rapidly filled her vision as a sensation of falling instantly engulfed her. A final, dull thud resonated, and a searing pain erupted on her forehead. Warm liquid streamed down before her eyes, staining her golden eyebrows, which now resembled the sharp, menacing spikes of a monster’s lair.

Chloe gritted her teeth, wincing as she clutched one eye, blood seeping between her fingers. Peering through her other eye, she vaguely discerned that something had tripped her, though she couldn’t quite make out what it was. She nudged the object closer with her foot, and upon focusing her gaze, realized it was none other than Papertreat, which had vanished moments ago.

“Papertreat, what are you doing here?”

Enduring the throbbing pain, a dizzy Chloe snatched up Papertreat, her gaze fixed on its button eyes.

“You said to look in the mirror? What mirror?”

Chloe, having heard Papertreat’s response, turned her bewildered gaze towards the full-length mirror. The girl, now slumped against the bedside like a wounded animal, had blood trickling from her eyebrow, staining even the red wooden bed frame with a vivid crimson.

When did I revert from my transformation?

Chloe was astonished to find herself back in her thin, pale yellow nightgown, as if none of the preceding events had ever occurred.

As she stared into Papertreat’s button eyes, Chloe’s head suddenly felt as heavy as if filled with lead, and her heart was pierced by a needle-sharp pain.

“Ugh… Uwah! It hurts!”

She pressed both hands against her heart with all her might, desperately trying to quell its frantic pounding and ease the agony. Yet, contrary to her efforts, an increasingly fierce pain simultaneously gnawed at her brain and heart, rendering her utterly powerless to resist. Her tears mingled with the flowing blood, yet they could not dilute the vivid crimson in the slightest. The bloodstain on the bed frame was already beginning to dry, but the blood near her eyebrow remained warm and fresh.