"Cain…" Ko'oni murmured. "It's the middle of the night, you know. People are sleeping. And we're crawling through these streets like cockroaches."
Cain walked in silence.
His steps—quick, precise.
His eyes slid over walls, reflections, rooftops.
"Seriously," she went on, undeterred. "Can you at least tell me where we're running to?"
He didn't answer.
"Hey," Ko'oni's voice sharpened. "Do you ever think about me? I'm not your shadow. I'm a person. With legs, by the way. And they huuurt!"
Cain stopped abruptly.
Ko'oni nearly bumped into him. She winced, stepped beside him—and didn't stop talking:
"And really, you could at least—"
His eyes swept the rooftops, sharp and searching, like he was hunting for something.
Then his gaze turned razor-sharp.
"Shut up."
She froze.
Opened her mouth to protest—
—and in the same instant, he lunged forward.
He grabbed her collar and yanked her aside.
A spear flew past where she'd just been standing.
It hit the ground with a hiss.
Dust shot up.
Metal rang.
Ko'oni hit the ground.
She coughed.
Turned her head.
And saw them.
On the rooftops.
Thin. Tall.
Draped in black, tattered cloaks.
Their faces—white masks. Smooth like bone. No mouths. Just long, slit-like eye holes.
The night wind tugged at their cloaks.
Their shadows fell like blades.
The figures didn't move.
They only watched.
Cain stretched one arm behind him—his hand brushed her shoulder.
Gently, but firmly, he moved Ko'oni behind his back.
He didn't say a word.
The world seemed to pause.
One of them stepped forward.
From the rooftop—onto a balcony.
From the balcony—onto the wall.
Then, softly—onto the ground.
Silent.
Like smoke.
Cain drew his sword.
The cloth slipped from the blade.
The metal—black.
Its surface veined with cracks.
It looked like it had survived a thousand battles… and was still hungry.
Ko'ni didn't move.
The enemy approached.
"Who are they..?" she whispered.
Cain didn't answer.
He didn't know who they were.
But he knew—
the fight was coming.
And he was ready.
The masked figure stepped closer.
Its cloak dragged through the dust, as if pulling the night itself.
Then a voice—raspy, muffled, like a whisper from underwater—rolled down the street:
"Memento sees you. And remembers all."
A pause.
A pause that raised goosebumps.
As if the city itself had stopped breathing, listening to its own voice echo.
"Welcome, dear wanderers."
Ko'oni shuddered.
Somewhere deep inside her skull, a thought itched.
A thought that wasn't hers.
Something foreign...
Whispering names she didn't know.
Whispering with tenderness.
With certainty.
As if it knew her better than she knew herself.
Her fingers curled.
Her heart skipped a beat.