Catherine's chest tightened as she sat among the others. Everything about the situation felt wrong.
How could everyone accept things so easily? These strangers had appeared, and now they were somehow part of their group.
She clenched her fists, trying to calm the unease stirring within her. Why are they with us? Why are we with them? The more she thought about it, the more her mind twisted into knots.
The faces around her were too calm. Too natural. It was as if some invisible thread was guiding their thoughts, pulling them along without resistance. Catherine shivered. The suspicion grew inside her like a thorn.
A spell… someone's casting a spell on us. But who? Why?
Her eyes darted to Niha.
Strangely, Niha was feeling something too. Her chest felt light, her steps too easy, her words flowing without effort. Everything seemed to come unnaturally smooth—as if some hidden force was smoothing out the edges of her life.
This isn't normal, she thought, frowning. Is this… magic? If so, who's the one using it?
Her gaze fell upon Catherine, sitting opposite her. For a brief moment their eyes locked, and both froze.
That single moment was heavy. In Catherine's mind, the thought rang clear: This girl… she feels just like me. Is she the one using magic?
And in Niha's mind, the exact same echo stirred: Why is she acting the same way as me? Is she the caster?
The air between them sharpened. Both girls silently, instinctively, branded the other as a rival. The tension was thick enough to cut—until a voice broke it.
"Hey, Cathy! Listen up!"
Lily's cheerful tone snapped the silence. She skipped into view, beaming. "These two will be joining our party!"
Her words dropped like stones into the charged atmosphere.
Catherine and Niha's eyes met again, this time filled with frustration. Niha's face darkened with visible irritation; her lips tightened, her brows furrowed. She didn't say anything, but her expression screamed No, I don't like this at all.
Catherine's reaction was quieter. She wasn't exactly angry with Niha, but rather with the others—for forcing this decision. But in the end, she said nothing. She couldn't fight against everyone else. Reluctantly, she nodded, hiding her discontent beneath a mask of indifference.
Meanwhile, at the edge of the room, Michael and Chris stood side by side.
Chris, with his usual quiet nature, kept his eyes on the ground. He spoke without looking up, his tone carrying a weight of curiosity and despair.
"What do you think life means, Michael?"
Michael closed his eyes slowly, letting silence stretch for a moment before replying.
"Nothing," he said at last. His voice was low, almost bitter. "Life is just strange dreams… and endless sacrifices made in pursuit of unreachable goals."
Chris blinked. Then, to Michael's surprise, he chuckled.
"Ha… that's the first time I've heard anyone put it like that."
Michael didn't answer. He had already said more than he wanted to.
Chris looked at him for a second longer, then realized there was no point pressing further. Instead, he straightened his posture and stepped forward, moving toward Niha. Standing beside her, he spoke gently,
"You don't look happy."
Niha forced a smile. "Oh, no—I'm fine."
But her voice betrayed her unease.
Before the silence could return, Catherine cleared her throat.
"Enough of this. We have things to do. It's time we take on a mission."
Michael's eyes opened at that, and he muttered, "I'll need a weapon first."
---
Elsewhere, Far Away
The world shifted.
Above a vast expanse of land, two moons hung in the night sky—one blood red, the other glowing white. Their light spilled across an endless kingdom, illuminating the towering palace that sat at its heart.
Inside a chamber of that palace, a cloaked man bent over a ritual circle. His breathing was ragged. Before him lay the corpse of a bird, its wings broken and stiff. Around the body, tiny ant-like creatures crawled unnaturally in a spiral.
The man's hands shook as he chanted. Then suddenly, his voice broke into a scream.
"No! Impossible! This cannot be!"
From the corner of the chamber, another figure stirred. A surge of aura burst from him, filling the room with oppressive weight.
"What is it?" he asked calmly. "Reality itself?"
The first man trembled, eyes wild. "It's changing… everything is changing!"
The second figure's voice was steady, almost dismissive.
"Of course it is. That is the law of nature."
"No!" the cloaked man shouted, his face pale with terror.
"This isn't nature. Something else is at work!"
The second figure's eyes narrowed. His aura flickered.
"Then… what? Who has such power?"
The chamber fell silent, the only sound the faint skittering of the insect-like creatures circling the dead bird.
---
Back at Catherine's House
Meanwhile, Kelina quietly opened the door to Michael's room. She hesitated as soon as she stepped inside.
The air was heavy, thick with a strange aura that made her skin prickle. She clutched her chest and stepped further in—only to freeze.
Someone was standing there.
A figure unlike anything she had ever seen before. Its body wasn't white, nor black—but an impossible merging of both. A shifting, unnatural tone of color that defied understanding.
Kelina's breath caught. What kind of being has such a body?
"Who… who are you?" she demanded, her voice trembling. "How did you get in here?"
The figure turned its head, and when it spoke, its voice was alien.
"Ne bo, sa que æm eto des~por?"
(Tell me—who was lying here?)
Kelina steadied herself and replied in the same strange tongue, though her accent was rough.
"Am bol to paun te. Se gos?"
(I won't tell you. Leave now.)
The being didn't argue. Instead, it walked straight forward—its body passing through her own as though she were air.
A violent shudder ripped through Kelina's body. She gasped, collapsing against the wall, her entire frame shaking.
The figure's voice echoed again, deep and resonant, vibrating in her bones:
"Yo so dob bol… Ke o na hi sa gue hitt yo."
(You are too weak. That's why I won't kill you.)
Before her terrified eyes, the figure began to melt. Its body dripped and dissolved, evaporating into the air until nothing remained.
Kelina's vision spun. She couldn't endure it. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.
---
Somewhere Beyond
The wind howled. Air gathered in violent currents, twisting and folding into a shape. The figure re-formed, black-and-white once again.
But he was no longer alone.
Standing before him was another man—tall, cloaked in ragged robes that flowed like shadows. A mask covered half of his face, cracked and broken, revealing one piercing blue eye.
The masked man spoke in a calm, steady tone.
"Arre… Yo te fond deas?"
(Arre, did you find anything?)
The black-and-white figure—Arre—bowed his head.
"Nah, vis quea is o. Yo se mos ito Ren."
(No. But I gathered a little information. You should go as well, Ren.)
The masked man's eye glimmered.
"Information, you say? About him?"
Arre's voice rumbled. "Yes. About the one who was here… The one they call Michael."
Ren tilted his head, his blue eye narrowing. "So it begins, then."
The wind fell silent, the night holding its breath.