Lin Han's breath came in ragged gasps as he pressed his hands against the rain-slick pavement. Sweat mixed with the downpour, dripping from his forehead. He looked up—the robed man was gone, as if everything had been an illusion.
But the karmic thread that had pierced through him still lingered in his mind, a ghostly afterimage he couldn't shake off.
"Lin Han!"
Noya stormed toward him, grabbing his collar in frustration. "What the hell just happened to you?"
Lin Han's lips parted—he wanted to explain, but his throat felt blocked, as if something unseen was preventing him from speaking.
Batu Caves.
A whisper echoed inside his mind—damp, reverberating, as though it came from the depths of the earth itself.
"Batu Caves…" he murmured unconsciously.
Noya froze, her grip tightening. Her eyes flashed with something between shock and suspicion.
"What did you just say?"
"I... I don't know…" Lin Han pressed his palm against his burning right eye. His vision warped, colors twisting unnaturally.
In the distance, the wail of police sirens cut through the storm, growing closer by the second.
Noya clenched her jaw, lowering her voice. "Come with me."
"Where?"
"Somewhere they won't find you."
Before he could protest, she yanked him into the rain-soaked shadows of Kuala Lumpur's midnight streets—vanishing into the night.
Lin Han was yanked into a narrow alleyway, the rain dripping from rusted tin rooftops, forming puddles that rippled under their hurried footsteps.
His breath came in short gasps as he stole a glance over his shoulder—police cars had already pulled up near the skybridge, officers scanning the rain-drenched streets.
His pulse pounded. If he hadn't followed Noya, he would've been caught for sure.
"Walao eh, where the hell are we going?" he whispered.
Noya didn't respond. She only picked up the pace, turning sharply into a 24-hour sundry shop nestled between aging shop lots.
The store's dim lighting buzzed faintly. An old electric fan groaned overhead, barely disturbing the stale mix of cigarette smoke and damp wood.
"Ah Neng, belakang." Noya nodded toward the counter.
The shopkeeper—an older Chinese man with graying hair and an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips—gave Lin Han a hard stare.
"You bring trouble again?" His voice was gruff, unimpressed.
"Don't ask." Noya tossed a crumpled fifty-ringgit note onto the counter before dragging Lin Han past the shelves toward the back.
Behind a concealed door lay a hidden passage, leading into a cramped underground room—bare but dry, a stark contrast to the rain-soaked city above.
"You'll be safe here. No one will find you," Noya muttered, locking the door behind them.
Lin Han's eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings. The walls were lined with old newspapers, stacks of yellowed Taoist talismans in the corner, and—most unsettling of all—a worn-out map of Batu Caves pinned to the wall.
A chill ran down his spine.
"…You knew I'd end up at Batu Caves?"
Noya hesitated, her expression unreadable.
After a long pause, she finally spoke.
"Some things... I'm only just starting to believe myself."