The sky over the Midnight Plateau wasn’t black or blue; it was a swirling vortex of violet energy, a tear in the fabric of the worlds that had dragged four strangers into its center. ​Zoey stood at the edge of a jagged floating rock, her pink boots clicking against the stone. She adjusted her lace chokers and gripped her Strawberry Bell, her heart racing. "This definitely isn't Tokyo," she muttered, looking down at the endless clouds of stardust below. ​"And it’s definitely not the Shadowlands," a voice called out. ​Zoey turned to see a girl about her age, dressed in practical traveling leathers with a green tunic. Leaf stepped forward, her hand resting cautiously on the hilt of her dagger. Behind her stood a young man with wild, silver hair and a massive, blunt-edged sword strapped to