Rasen had been driving aimlessly for hours.Guilt over Clear's death gnawed at him, and the constant pounding of rain on the windshield mirrored his mental state. The afternoon was darkening quickly, and the world outside blurred into a smudge of gray.
Suddenly, he thought he saw Clear standing on the sidewalk—her unmistakable silhouette under an umbrella. His heart jumped. He slammed on the brakes and got out without thinking."Clear!" he shouted, but as he drew closer, the figure wasn't who he hoped for.
It was Aisha, soaked by the rain, her expression a mix of surprise and exhaustion.Without a word, Rasen grabbed her arm and pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on her neck.His arms tightened around her slender figure as a whisper escaped his lips."Clear... so sweet..."But it wasn't her scent. It wasn't her heartbeat.The illusion shattered. Aisha's hand gently pressed against his chest."Rasen," she said, her voice tense.He blinked, confused, pulling back just enough to see her face."I... I thought...""You're not okay," she murmured. "You need help."
"I shouldn't have let you go like that," he said, voice breaking. "I still hurt, Aisha... it hurts so much."She tried to step back, but he held her tighter."You can't leave. You can't walk away again."Aisha narrowed her eyes, cautious and confused."You look terrible, Rasen. You should go home.""Only if you come with me," he said, clinging to her words like a lifeline.
The ride was silent, weighed with tension. Rasen brought her to his modest house, a place that mirrored his emotional state—disheveled, cold, and lonely."You can come in." He opened the door and let her pass. Without looking at her, he muttered, "I need to clear my head."He walked back out into the rain, his thoughts drowning in memories of Clear—her laughter, her kisses, the moments they shared. Now all of it felt like a distant echo.
Without warning, someone grabbed him from behind, pressing something cold against his head."DON'T SCREAM," a harsh voice hissed."What the hell are you doing?" Rasen slowly raised his hands. "I don't have anything valuable.""Move. Do what I say, or I'll shoot."Rasen obeyed, led to a metal gate hidden behind wet cardboard and trash. He was shoved into a dark place beyond it.
"Remove the blindfold and tell me who they are."A photo was thrown onto a table.Rasen blinked against the dim light and immediately recognized the faces—Clear and Aisha."Your face says it all. You know this woman. Now tell me: what's her connection to the Red Moon incident?""I don't know what you're talking about. What does Clear have to do with this?""You know who's behind her death."The voice cut like a blade through his mind.A sharp pain spiked in his head as memories of the accident came crashing back.
"You can go… but soon, you'll understand the truth."The stranger let him leave, but the words echoed relentlessly in Rasen's mind.
The Shadow Villa
Meanwhile, Aisha had received instructions from Lionel to seek protection in the Shadow Villa.With a ring he entrusted to her, she boarded a train along with Rasen, who insisted on coming—still desperate for answers about Clear's death.
The atmosphere around the villa was oppressive, wrapped in thick fog. Two strange figures approached as soon as they noticed the ring on Aisha's finger, guiding them through the shadowy streets to a crumbling house.There, an older man named Elbanius awaited.
Elbanius inspected the ring before locking eyes with them."Who are you running from, girl?" he asked in a deep voice. "Lionel's brother? It's always the same with them.""We seek shelter, just for a few days," Rasen intervened, holding up the ring as proof of their intent.
The flashlight beams flickered in the mist, casting disturbing shadows on damp walls.When the hallway lights finally turned on, a figure emerged from the gloom.
A towering man in a belted trench coat walked toward them with deliberate steps. His black hair was messy, and a flicker of disdain lit his gaze.He clicked his tongue when he saw the ring."That bastard," he muttered, referring to Lionel. "He returned it in exchange for a favor. I couldn't care less—but I doubt either of you are trustworthy."
Aisha, covered in a thick cloak that nearly concealed her form, stepped forward with determination. Her voice was low but steady:"Please, consider our request. Ask whatever you wish."
From his elevated position, the man—none other than Skiller—studied her carefully. The irony in her words seemed to amuse him, and his lips curled into a cold smile.He jumped down with feline grace, landing in front of them with intimidating precision.
"You ask me to trust you, girl? You say you can offer me what I desire?"Skiller raised an eyebrow, scanning her with a mix of interest and contempt.
"Leaving would mean giving up," Aisha thought, holding his gaze.Slowly, she pulled out Lionel's ring and held it up so he could see it clearly.
"Then let's simplify things," Skiller continued, his smile growing darker."That way, I won't have to consider you and the human as prey for my kind. It'd be a waste to devour you now."He snapped his fingers with theatrical flair—the sound cutting through the dense air like a warning.
Skiller leaned closer, his face inches from Aisha's, his eyes gleaming with something more than curiosity."You're not just Lionel's messenger, are you?"Aisha didn't reply."Your blood smells of an ancient pact," he whispered. "What are you hiding, little ash flower?"