Paris breathed under a ghostly haze, as if the Seine had spilled its secrets into the streets.Rasen adjusted the camera, capturing shadows twisting beneath the streetlamps.But a scream froze him.
—"Get away! I don't want your help!"
The cry shattered the murmurs of the crowd. A figure crouched against a stone wall, trembling.
Orange hair, tangled and filthy. Torn clothes. And on her arms... the burns.These weren't regular scars. Spirals carved into the skin. Symmetrical. Perfect.
Exactly like the containment runes etched onto the silver umbrella.
Sanathiel had rejected that symbol.
But on Clear... they were alive.They pulsed beneath her skin, as if something trapped inside her was trying to break free.As if she were the seal of something far greater.And Rasen understood instantly.
These weren't just ritual marks.They were the same seal used by Archangel and Risas.Clear wasn't just a victim.She was part of the sacrifice.And she was still alive.
Which meant...The ritual wasn't over.They could still claim her.Still bind her.Still—
"Clear?" —The name burned his throat like poison.
Her blue eyes flickered, as if her mind needed time to recognize him.And then, her gaze locked on his.Not with relief.But with pure terror.
As if seeing him confirmed her damnation.As if surviving until now only meant the real nightmare was about to begin.
And on her neck...The howling wolf pendant.The same one Rasen had given her before he lost her.But the metal was sizzling.The pendant sparked with energy, as if her skin was rejecting it.
As if the curse in her blood refused to accept it.As if it no longer belonged to her.As if... it never had.
"Why didn't you come?" —she whispered, collapsing in his arms.
Rasen wrapped her in his coat, ignoring the curious stares.Her body felt light. Hollow.As if something had devoured her soul.
As they walked, the streetlamps cast shadows that stretched like claws, pointing the way.
Inside the hotel suite…
Lionel stood before a smoked-glass display case.Inside, dissected hearts floated in formaldehyde, labeled: Adrian, Itzel, Falco.
—"How touching," —Lionel said, watching Clear sleep—."Archangel let her live. Rookie mistake."
He sipped from a goblet filled with fresh, bubbling blood.The liquid dripped onto the marble, sketching a bleeding eye.The symbol of Arceo.
Noticing it, Lionel added:"He thinks he used his mark... but it's just another tool."
"Why her?" —Rasen asked, hiding his trembling fist.
"Because her death will tie Sanathiel to my web," —Lionel replied, showing a picture of Aisha."Protect her. For now."
But when Lionel smiled, a chill ran down Rasen's spine.There was no doubt in his voice. Only certainty.
Back in Falco's kitchen…
The knife's edge gleamed in the dim light.Steven lunged at Aisha, his breath tainted with hellebore.A venom that paralyzes werewolves.
Aisha felt the numbness spreading through her limbs,but her mind filled with visions that weren't hers.
Flashback:
Centuries ago. A firestorm consumed stone walls.Zaira, dressed in white, knelt in a circle of blood.Her blood.
In her hands, the same dagger Aisha now held.But she didn't raise it against an enemy.She drove it into her chest.A sacrifice.
A seal.
Arceo roaring inside a fractured mirror.Zaira's last words before collapsing:
"Break the threads."
Back to the present.
Aisha gasped.Steven grabbed her wrist.His expression shifted.He had seen something too.
"Falco used you!" —he roared, gripping the dagger marked with Arceo's eye—."Your blood will open the chest!"
The blade struck Zaira's portrait.The painting bled amber.The same glow as Sanathiel's eyes.
But something shifted.Zaira's eyes… opened.Just for a second.And they stared straight into Aisha.
A warning.Or a call.The same whisper echoed in her mind:
"Break the threads."
Aisha yanked the dagger free.Her blood mixed with the canvas.A ghostly light filled the room.
Steven stumbled back.For the first time… he looked afraid.
His voice trembled:"No... she can't awaken."
"My brother died before obeying you," —Aisha shouted, pointing the blade—."I'll live to see your end!"
Steven staggered, biting his lips until they bled.
"If Itzel doesn't return...you and the white wolf will pay."
At that moment, Aisha's old hidden phone buzzed.A warm voice came through the speaker:
"I've waited long enough to meet you."
The name flashed on the screen.
Lionel.
In front of Falco's mansion…
A black Bentley waited.Lionel stepped out, holding black roses.His golden eyes fixed on Aisha's blood.
"What a charming curse," —he murmured, licking her wound with a predator's smile—."Sanathiel believes he's saving you…but you and I know the truth."
Aisha glanced inside the car.On the back seat… a golden chest.Inside, a heart beat, wrapped in bloody runes.
Aisha didn't just see it.She heard it.Felt it.Pounding in her skull, syncing with her own pulse.
Lionel followed her gaze.His voice low. Triumphant:"It's what I've been waiting for…The first of many."