Meanwhile…
Huff! Huff!
The sound of heavy breathing echoed through the underground parking lot as Patricia and her siblings sprinted toward their car, desperate to escape the building.
They stopped briefly to catch their breath when they reached it.
"Haa! Haa! Come… come on, let's get in. Let's get in before we end up in trouble," Patricia urged as she yanked open the driver's door.
Zach and Alisha exchanged a quick glance before scrambling into the back seats.
Without wasting a second, Patricia turned the engine over, the car roaring to life. She sped out of the parking lot and onto the street, driving away at a sharp pace.
"Zach, are you okay?" Patricia asked once they were a safe distance from the building. "Do you want us to go to the hospital?"
"Mmm… no. I'm fine. I'm sure it's nothing serious—just something a little ointment and some painkillers can fix in no time. So yeah, I'm fine," Zach replied.
"Okay, fine," Patricia said, though her tone was tight.
Then she exploded. "But what the hell was that, Zach!" Her sudden outburst made him flinch. "How could you do such a thing, huh? Have you forgotten our rule—not to stir up trouble? Do you want us to get killed or discovered before we even fully carry out our revenge? Is that what you want? How could you be so reckless—my God! You're unbelievable!"
"Well, what did you expect me to do, Sis! That asshole was insulting me and Alisha! He was saying horrible things about us! Would you have wanted me to just stand still and do nothing while he ran his mouth however he liked?" Zach retorted.
"Yes! Yes, Zach! You could've ignored him and walked away! You didn't have to fight him! Have you forgotten that brat is X's nephew? He's that brute—that beast's relative, for Pete's sake! Mr. X is the last person we should offend right now! Or have you forgotten? Your stupid, uncontrolled reaction could cost us dearly! I can't even imagine what's going to happen next!" Patricia shot back, her voice trembling with fury.
"Fine. Fine! I get it! I made a terrible mistake! I did something I shouldn't have, and I'm sorry! Happy now? Hmph!" Zach yelled before folding his arms across his torso in defiance.
He winced as pain vibrated near his ribs, gently massaging the spot before turning his gaze out the window.
Patricia exhaled, catching Zach's expression in the rearview mirror.
"Look, I know. I know it's hard to keep our cool when the enemy provokes us. Believe me, you have no idea how much I want to punch Jethro's smug face—or one of those numbskull club members who mock me behind sweet smiles and sugary words. It takes everything in me not to give them a piece of my mind or slap them. A lot of restraint.
But…" she paused, her voice softening. "The only reason I don't lash out, even when they rile me up, is because I think of the bigger picture—their ultimate downfall. I think of all the sacrifices I'm making to finally bring them down for good. Those thoughts keep me in check, so I don't react on impulse and ruin everything.
So I hope you two will also keep your emotions in check. Don't let them get the better of you. Remember, we need this to bring justice—not to let our enemies win. You got that? Please, I beg you, be reasonable. Stop acting on impulse, or all this will be for nothing. Is that what you want?"
There was a brief silence as Alisha and Zach exchanged a glance before responding in unison: "No. That's not what we want."
Patricia smiled. "Good. Thank you for understanding. And I hope this won't happen again. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Zach and Alisha replied together.
Patricia nodded. "Good. I love you guys. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. So please… let's not do anything crazy anymore."
"You mean as crazy as the stunt we just pulled? Running away from the Golden Horse when we should've welcomed him and let him congratulate you on your victory? That was reckless, Patricia. I think we just invited trouble—trouble far more dangerous than what Zach stirred up. How are you going to explain yourself for such rude behavior? And knowing that monster, he won't let it go easily," Alisha said.
Patricia bit her lower lip at the mention of their daring stunt. The audacity of it was indeed crazy, and she wondered why she had done it.
The moment she heard his voice rising from the back of the crowd, a wave of panic had crashed into her heart. And the only words that echoed in her mind were: Run. It's not time yet.
But now, thinking back, she realized the voice hadn't sounded like her own. It was as if someone else had whispered into her mind, stirring panic and fear—an instinct she always felt when something was terribly wrong.
But what exactly had happened to her?
Who whispered into her mind like a conscience, if it wasn't her conscience at all?
What was going on?
Chronalis.
The name echoed in her mind like a whispering curse, refusing to disappear. A shadow that clung to her thoughts, using her whenever and wherever it pleased.
But why?
"Patricia…" a voice called faintly in the background, but she didn't hear it.
Why does this thing want to use her? For what purpose? For what reason?
"Patricia!! Stop!"
The anxious voices echoed in the background, but in Patricia's mind they were warped, muffled—she couldn't hear them.
What exactly did the thing want from her? How was she important in its game? And what game was it playing? Did it know Montenegra? Did it know the story between them? But how? And why?
'Urrrgh… this is so confusing', Patricia complained inwardly as the questions swirled, clouding her thoughts so heavily that she didn't hear Zach and Alisha's cries behind her.
It wasn't until someone grabbed the wheel and screamed—
"PATRICIA, STOP!!! WE ARE GOING TO CRASH!!!"
Patricia snapped back to reality just in time to see Alisha grabbing the wheel, swerving the car away from a tree.
"AAAH!!!"
They all screamed in horror as the car veered out of control, tumbling down the hillside until it slammed into a massive oak tree.
The airbags exploded, striking their heads violently.
Patricia's vision spun, her ears ringing with a deafening echo. Time seemed to be in slow motions as she turned her head slightly and saw Zach and Alisha slumped unconscious beside her.
She tried to speak, tried to reach out to them, but her body felt limp and unresponsive. Her vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges.
Through the haze, she thought she saw a figure approaching the wrecked car from a distance.
She forced out a faint whisper. "He… help… us…"
And then the darkness consumed her.
......
Meanwhile, in Costa Rica…
"No one truly knows what happened to those people. They just vanished into thin air."
"I heard it was the gardener who murdered them all and used their bodies as fertilizer. That's why they were never found."
"The McCoys had plenty of enemies. They were cold, heartless people. I suppose someone finally had enough and decided to get rid of them—permanently."
"The McCoys were always a mystery. Some folks even say they were involved in… witchcraft."
"Who are you exactly? And what business do you have asking about the McCoys, huh? What do you want to know?"
...
"Urrrgh! Can we stop watching this now? We've been at it for more than an hour. I'm completely bored," Davis groaned in frustration as he sat beside Isaac inside the WFAB van. They were reviewing secret footage of interviews conducted in Peruz about the McCoys and their disappearance—six hundred years ago.
"I don't understand what you're trying to find out about those people anyway. It's obvious that…" Davis paused, choosing his words carefully. "That you-know-what happened to them. It's pointless chasing shadows we'll never catch. So why don't we just give up?"
Isaac remained silent, his eyes fixed on the last interview—the man who refused to answer their questions and grew aggressive the moment the McCoys were mentioned. Isaac studied his movements, his expressions. It was clear the man knew something. Something more than the others. But he was keeping quiet for a reason.
Was it fear of the paranoia surrounding the murders?
Or was someone forcing him into silence?
Whatever it was, Isaac intended to find out—by paying him another visit.
"I don't see why we need to investigate the McCoys when we're supposed to be looking into Viper—and finding him. Well… what's left of him, probably. But I don't see the point of coming back here. Besides, this place still gives me the creeps, considering what happened last time," Davis muttered.
Isaac paused the video and sighed. "Because I believe this is where it all started, Davis. All of our main characters —the McCoys, the Montenegras, the Morales, and even the Plumberrys—were born here in Costa Rica. They all grew up here. And this is also where we found those cursed boxes—the ones that keep us restless at night, fearing the unknown entity they unleashed.
So what do you think? A coincidence? Absolutely not. These people were involved in something, and we're going to find out what."
He stood up and stepped outside into the cool, dark air.
Isaac exhaled as he looked up at the star‑streaked sky.
He inhaled deeply before whispering, "I hope my Sweeches is okay…"
Placing a hand over his chest, he felt his heart racing.
"Why am I feeling uneasy? Like something is wrong. Is Patricia okay?" he murmured, pulling out his phone and dialing her number.
"Sorry, the number you have dialed is not available. Please try again later."
Beep.
The cold mechanical voice ended the call.
"That's strange. Patricia's phone has never been unreachable before. Let me try again."
He dialed once more, but the same mechanical voice repeated the message.
"What the hell is going on?" Isaac muttered.
"What's up?" Davis asked as he emerged from the van, stepping beside him.
"Is everything okay?" Davis asked.
"I'm trying to get a hold of Patricia, but her phone isn't reachable. I just want to check up on her. I don't know… I have this feeling that something is wrong. And I can't shake it off," Isaac replied, his voice heavy with unease.
"Oh… okay. Maybe she's just swamped with people congratulating her on her achievement. She might have put her phone on airplane mode so she wouldn't be disturbed. You can try calling her again later," Davis suggested.
But Isaac's face remained conflicted, etched with worry.
Davis sighed. "Or we could just call Alisha or Zach, you know… just to ease your mind."
Isaac nodded and dialed Alisha's number.
"Sorry, but the number you have dialed is not available at the moment. Please try again later."
Beep.
Isaac's stomach dropped as he turned to Davis, shaking his head.
"Try Zach's," Davis suggested.
Isaac sighed and dialed Zach's number.
"Sorry, but…"
The same mechanical voice greeted him again.
"Something is wrong, Davis. Something is definitely wrong—I can feel it," Isaac said, pulling the phone from his ear. "We have to go back."
"Hey, hey, hey—Isaac, stop!" Davis grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him in place. "Relax, okay? Calm down. There's no need to rush. I'll contact someone and find out what's going on. Just breathe."
Isaac eased the tension in his shoulders, forcing himself to calm down as Davis let go.
"Relax, okay," Davis repeated before pulling out his phone and dialing a number.
"Yes, it's me. I want you to find out what happened to Miss Patricia Milton and her siblings at the coronation gala, please."
"Yes. Post haste. Call me when you find out." He ended the call and turned back to Isaac.
"Don't worry—we'll have our answers soon. Relax."
Isaac nodded, running a hand through his hair before exhaling deeply.
Just then, he froze. A rustling sound came from the bushes behind them.
Isaac didn't turn to face Davis but signaled him with his fingers.
Davis caught the signal instantly and slipped his hand around the revolver hidden in his trouser pocket.
Isaac stepped forward casually, pretending to move without concern—then suddenly lunged into the bushes, grabbing the intruder who tried to flee.
"WFAB! Stop struggling and surrender—now!" Davis shouted as Isaac wrestled to hold the man down.
"I said stop struggling!" Davis barked again.
"Okay! Okay! I give up! I give up!" the intruder cried out as Isaac twisted his arms behind his back. "I give up!"
Isaac glanced at Davis, who quickly approached to help him force the man to his feet.
Their eyes widened in shock as the intruder's face caught the starlight.
It was the same man who had grown aggressive with them earlier—during their investigation into the McCoys.
"You!" they both exclaimed in unison.
"Yes. Me," the man replied. "I have something important to tell you about what you're looking for."
Davis and Isaac exchanged a wary glance.
"And why should we trust you?" Isaac asked.
The man looked at them both and sighed before revealing, "Because my great‑grandfather was the gardener accused of killing the McCoys. But I swear—my grandpappy was innocent. Something else killed dem McCoys." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "And it wasn't human."
Davis and Isaac stared at him, their throats tightening as they swallowed hard.
It seemed they were on the right trail after all.