Lyra stood motionless in front of the door.
It was the same door she had shut only moments ago. The faint sound of the latch clicking still echoed in her memory. Her hand hovered near the cold wood, fingers curling slightly—caught between instinct and restraint.
But she didn't open it.
The long hallway of the mansion remained silent. Her eyes stayed fixed on the door, her expression calm—too calm.
A voice broke the quiet from behind her.
"You don't have to be that cruel to her."
Lyra didn't turn.
A few seconds passed before the voice spoke again, softer this time.
"Why are you talking to her like that?"
Her gaze never left the door.
"It's none of your business," she said coldly.
Footsteps approached. Before she could step away, a hand caught her shoulder and turned her around. Another hand settled on her other shoulder, holding her gently but firmly in place.
"Lyra," he said softly, "you're hurting her."
Lyra looked up at him, eyes sharp, the calm on her face now edged with irritation.
"You know it's not her fault," he continued.
For a moment, Lyra simply stared at him. Then she asked quietly,
"Then whose fault is it?"
The question hung between them.
Without waiting for an answer, she removed his hands and stepped past him. Her footsteps echoed softly as she walked down the hallway, disappearing around the corner without looking back.
Orion remained standing, staring after her. After a moment, he let out a quiet sigh and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Why does it have to be so complicated?" he muttered.
Elsewhere, a black car sat quietly on a hill overlooking the mansion.
Inside, a man leaned back in the driver's seat, phone pressed to his ear. His eyes tracked two figures walking down the narrow road toward town.
"She's heading to town," he said, calm as ever.
A faint crackle came through the line.
In a dimly lit room, another man stood beside a metal table. The light behind him threw his face into shadow. A syringe caught the faint glow of the overhead lamp in his hand.
"Okay," he said. "You know what to do."
Back in the car, the driver nodded.
"Yes, sir."
The man in the room's voice turned sharper.
"Remember… we need her alive. If you don't succeed… don't come back."
The call ended.
The driver lowered the phone, eyes drifting back to the road.
Back in the dim room, the man with the syringe turned away from the phone.
At the center of the room, a metal medical bed held a young woman. Strapped tightly—wrists and ankles bound by leather, a gag covering her mouth—she struggled. Muffled cries slipped past the restraints. Tears streaked her face.
He stepped closer, casual, almost amused.
"Well," he said softly, lifting the syringe, "let's see what you become."
The girl shook her head violently.
"Don't be scared," he whispered. "After I'm done… everyone will be scared of you."
The syringe pierced her arm. Her tremors intensified, the metal straps rattling against the table.
Isabel walked slowly along the narrow road leading into town.
Isaac followed at a quiet distance—close enough to observe, far enough to give her space. His eyes occasionally drifted to her as she moved forward.
Why did my life turn out like this?
She rubbed her eyes, then lifted her head again.
The town entrance appeared.
As she stepped onto the street, she immediately sensed something strange.
People avoided her. It felt like she was carrying a shadow they could see… but she couldn't. Subtle gestures—a step aside, lowered gaze, hands pulled back—marked their caution. Children were pulled closer by their parents. Heads lowered. Eyes averted.
Isabel slowed… then stopped.
Isaac mirrored her movement.
She turned to him, confused.
"Why is everyone behaving like this?"
She glanced down at her clothes, frowning.
"Am I dressed wrong? It looks fine…"
Isaac gave a faint smile.
"It's because you're the lord's guest," he said calmly. "They're showing you respect."
"Respect… by avoiding me?" she asked.
"You could say that."
She glanced around again. Still no one looked at her directly.
"That's… weird," she muttered, continuing forward.
A small sweet shop caught her eye.
Colorful jars filled with candies and chocolates gleamed through the window.
Her eyes lit up. A bright smile spread across her face as she stepped inside.
The bell above the door jingled.
The air smelled of sugar and chocolate. Shelves brimmed with sweets. Excitement took over as Isabel began gathering candies—chocolates, sugar sticks, caramels—like a child discovering treasure.
Then—
"Please, ma'am! I just forgot my purse! I know I'm new in this town, but you already know my dad!"
The shopkeeper replied firmly,
"No money. No ice cream."
Isabel's hand paused mid-air.
That voice… she couldn't mistake it.
She quickly rounded the shelf.
"Hey, Jenny!"
Jenny turned. The moment she saw Isabel, her face lit up.
"Isabel!"
She rushed forward, arms wide—
—but before she could reach her, a firm hand caught the back of her collar.
Isaac.
Isabel reacts immediately:
"Hey! What are you doing? She's just a kid!" Isabel snapped, instinctively.
"Let go of her," she said instantly.
Isaac glanced at her briefly, then leaned toward Jenny, voice low.
"Don't do anything stupid… alright, pup?"
He released her.
Jenny shot him a sharp look before turning back.
"Isabel!"
She hugged her tightly.
"Hey! What are you doing here?" Isabel laughed.
Jenny pulled back, smiling.
"I was about to ask you the same thing!"
As they stepped apart, the candies slipped from Isabel's hands and scattered across the floor.
"Oh—sorry!" Jenny said quickly.
Both crouched to pick them up.
"You like sweets?" Jenny asked.
"Who doesn't?" Isabel replied.
At the counter, Jenny explained,
"I came to buy ice cream, but I forgot my purse. I told her I'd come back later, but she didn't trust me."
"That's fine," Isabel said, smiling. "I'll pay for it."
She placed the candies on the counter.
"How much for ours?"
The shopkeeper looked at Isabel, then lowered her eyes.
"You don't have to pay."
Before Isabel could react, Jenny leaned forward, shocked.
"Wait—what? You said no money, no ice cream just a moment ago! And now it's free for her?"
The shopkeeper's voice softened.
"You are the lord's guest. Which makes you a guest of this town. This is a gift. Please… take it."
Isabel and Jenny exchanged a confused look.
"Thank you, ma'am!" Jenny said quickly, grabbing the sweets and pulling Isabel along.
They stepped outside. The bell jingled behind them.
Isaac followed silently.
"So, where are you going now?" Jenny asked.
Isabel shrugged.
"I just wanted some space… maybe look around town."
Jenny smiled.
"Then come with me. I'll show you the best place."
She grabbed Isabel's arm and pulled her along.
Isaac followed, silent and watchful.
They reached a small park.
A calm pond reflected the afternoon light.
Jenny pointed to a wooden bench.
"Sit here. Best spot."
They sat.
Jenny handed her an ice cream.
"Here."
"Thanks," Isabel said softly.
After a pause—
"So… how are you feeling about the new job?" Jenny asked.
"Honestly? I'm not doing anything yet. Just waiting for college to start," Isabel said.
"What about you?"
Jenny shrugged.
"Just adjusting… new town, new people, new family. A really big family," she added with a small laugh.
They talked for a while.
Then Isabel grew quiet.
"Jenny… can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"You've been here longer than me. Do you know anything about the mansion where I'm staying?"
Jenny raised an eyebrow.
"You're asking me? You live there."
Isabel shook her head.
"I feel like there's something about this town… something people aren't saying."
Jenny studied her—
Then—
BOOM.
The explosion tore through the town like a roar.
The ground trembled beneath them. The pond rippled violently. Birds burst into the sky.
Jenny jumped.
"What was that?!"
Isaac's eyes snapped toward the source.
For a split second—his attention shifted.
That was enough.
A shadow lunged from behind.
A rough hand grabbed Isabel's wrist, yanking her backward. Isabel felt hot breath on the back of her neck.
A knife flashed toward her chest—
Isaac moved. Faster than thought.
He threw himself between them.
The blade… hit him.
Isabel froze—
the world collapsing into a single moment of horror.
"ISAAC!"
Her scream tore through the street.