"Why do you need to follow me here?" the girl demanded, her tone sharp enough to slice through the silence that hung between them. Her eyes flicked sideways at Arnoux, cold and distrustful, her expression carved with hostility.
Arnoux crossed his arms and scoffed, his lips twisting into a smirk. "Why don't you ask Ornaphendreul that yourself? You think I enjoy tagging along with a brat who acts like she owns the world?"
"Pft." She rolled her eyes, unimpressed.
The wind shifted—thick, heavy with an unnatural pulse. Arnoux exhaled a bored sigh and snapped his fingers lazily. The ground rippled, and the air itself twisted like a wounded serpent.
A swarm erupted.
Dark plagues spilled from the soil—locusts with glassy black wings, beetles oozing shadow, and wasps that screamed like broken souls. They blotted out the sun, cloaking the world in chaos.
Arnoux tilted his head, watching with detached amusement. "Anyway, this isn't fun at all," he muttered, his tone more weary than wicked.
"What are you doing?!" the girl barked, stepping forward as light began to flare from her fingertips.
In an instant, her power surged. A blinding ring of radiance exploded from her palms, dissolving the swarm into ash. The sky brightened once more as flakes of shadow rained gently around them, disintegrating before they touched the earth.
"Don't involve mortals," she hissed, lowering her hand. Her voice trembled with restrained fury. "You'll only make things worse if you entangle them in your games."
Arnoux arched an eyebrow, slightly impressed. "Tch. You've gotten stronger," he said under his breath. But the girl wasn't listening anymore.
Her eyes had fixed on something—a single surviving moth that fluttered weakly amidst the fading light. She extended her hand and murmured a word that didn't belong to any mortal tongue.
The moth stilled, its wings glowing faintly with dark silver light. Then, as if obeying a silent command, it darted off toward the horizon.
"What was that for?" Arnoux asked, curiosity flickering behind his aloof stare.
"I need a vessel," she said softly, eyes following the creature's trail. "The moth will find someone drawn to darkness… and I'll follow."
Arnoux's grin returned. "Interesting. And what will you do when you find them?"
She looked at him briefly. "That depends on what they remember."
---
Meanwhile, on the road…
"Xyon! Are you even listening to me right now?"
Xiao's voice snapped him out of his daze as her hands smacked the dashboard. The car swerved slightly before Xyon steadied it, blinking rapidly.
"Huh? Oh—sorry," he said with a sheepish smile. "I was just thinking about the company."
"The company?" Xiao huffed, crossing her arms. "So are you giving me that condo or not?"
"That's… actually where we're going now," he replied, glancing at her with a faint grin.
Her irritation melted instantly. "Finally! You have no idea how long I've waited for this. Don't worry about Mom—I'll handle her."
Xyon chuckled quietly but said nothing. There was something gnawing at him, a sense of wrongness that hummed in the back of his mind like static.
When they arrived, Xiao bounded out of the car and ran up the steps, her excitement almost childlike. Inside, the air felt oddly heavy. She climbed the stairs and spotted Sushie near the window, quietly adjusting the curtains.
"Ugh, annoying," Xiao muttered under her breath. "Hey, where's Mom?"
"Not here," Sushie replied without turning.
Xiao frowned, irritated at being ignored. With a swift tug, she yanked the curtain out of Sushie's hand, sending it tumbling to the floor.
Sushie straightened, her eyes flashing like molten gold for a brief moment. Before she could react, Aimee stepped between them.
"Xiao! Leave her alone," Aimee snapped. "She's helping us. Why do you always have to make everything harder?"
"How dare you—" Xiao raised her hand to slap her, but Sushie caught her wrist in mid-air.
Their eyes locked. Xiao struggled, but Sushie's grip was unyielding.
"Let go of me!"
"What's going on?"
The voice cut through the tension. Xyon stood by the doorway, confusion written all over his face.
The instant Sushie saw him, her demeanor changed. Her breath hitched, her eyes widening in disbelief.
"Prince…?" she whispered.
Xyon blinked. "What?"
She took a hesitant step forward and reached for his hand. "How did you get here? Did that girl—"
"Let go," he said coldly, pulling away. "What are you talking about?"
Her eyes darkened with shock as he turned to leave. Xiao smirked triumphantly and brushed past Sushie, muttering under her breath, "Psycho."
Sushie didn't respond. Her voice trembled as she whispered, "Wait—Prince! Did you lose your memory?"
Xyon paused at the door, turning just enough to meet her gaze.
"I don't know who you are or what you're talking about," he said flatly. "I'm Xyon. Just Xyon."
And then he was gone.
Sushie's hands trembled. "That wasn't him," she murmured. "Prince Liu would never act like that. My senses… they're fading. I can't even tell if he's a dreul anymore."
"A what?" Aimee asked softly.
Sushie blinked and shook her head. "Nothing. Forget it."
---
Outside, Xyon lingered by the balcony, the city lights flickering beneath him like fireflies. He could still feel Sushie's grip—cold, desperate, trembling.
"What's with that girl?" he muttered. "Does she… like me?"
The thought made him chuckle under his breath. But when he turned, the air grew heavy again.
"Sushie, right?" he called.
No answer.
Then, out of nowhere, a hand seized his collar and yanked him into the shadowed hallway. He hit the wall with a grunt.
"Who are you?" Sushie hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "Why do you have Prince Liu's face?!"
"What—what are you talking about?!"
She twisted his arm until he winced. Her movements were fluid, precise—like a trained warrior's.
She spun him around and pressed a hand over his mouth, her eyes inches from his. Her breath ghosted against his skin—soft, but trembling.
"Answer me," she whispered, her tone sharp as broken glass. "Or I'll slit your throat."
He stared at her, wide-eyed. "Is she actually serious?"
"I told you," he managed between her fingers, "I'm just Xyon! I don't know who this Prince Liu is!"
Footsteps echoed down the hall. Sushie froze, then pushed him back, melting into the shadows.
"You breathe a word of this," she murmured from the darkness, "and I'll finish what I started."
"Yeah, sure," he muttered, rubbing his shoulder. "You're the scary one here, not me."
When Xiao appeared seconds later, her gaze was sharp. "What was that about?"
"She… uh… lost her way," Xyon said awkwardly.
"In our house?"
"I mean—I got lost," he corrected quickly.
Xiao narrowed her eyes but dropped it. "Fine. Let's go."
---
Back in the car, silence hung between them. The night stretched endlessly ahead as Xyon gripped the steering wheel tighter.
Then Xiao flinched. A moth had landed on the dashboard.
"Ew!" She snatched a pen, ready to swat it—but before she could, the moth burst into a puff of dark smoke.
Her right eye stung. She hissed in pain.
"You okay?" Xyon asked, glancing at her.
"I'm fine," she muttered, leaning back and closing her eyes.
Xyon exhaled slowly, his mind spiraling.
"Prince Liu…" he murmured. "Why does that sound so familiar?"
Images flashed in his mind—silver hair, the scent of roses, screams echoing through a burning palace.
"That girl… Sushie. She knew something."
He gripped the wheel harder, jaw tightening.
"No," he whispered to himself. "There has to be another way to remember."
Outside, in the distance, a single moth fluttered behind the car—its wings now streaked with smoke and shadow.
And somewhere far away, Arnoux smiled.