When the woman opened her eyes, she saw Oliver standing right in front of her. Though close, he was careful to remain just far enough not to obstruct the movement of her bow.
"Oh! I'm sorry. Were you trying to speak to me?" she asked gently.
She placed her violin into its case, her movements graceful and calm. As she closed the lid, she tilted her head upward, her gaze locking with his. And in that moment—something passed between them.
"Have we met before?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.
Oliver didn't answer immediately. His eyes lingered on her face, drawn to something strangely familiar. A flicker of memory stirred in the back of his mind, just out of reach. Before he could grasp it, her face bloomed into a soft smile. The way she smiled—it was as though she, too, remembered him from somewhere.
As they stared at each other, something moved near the carved stone—the one the rabbit's liver still lay upon.
A loud bang broke the silence. Both turned toward the sound.
What they saw stole the breath from their lungs.
A massive humanoid insect now hovered over the stone, its grotesque mandibles dripping as it devoured the remains of the rabbit.
Fear surged through them like wildfire.
The woman grabbed her violin and instinctively bolted toward one of the roads. At first, she reached back to pull Oliver with her, but he didn't move. His body was frozen, eyes locked on the horrifying creature.
"Oliver!" she shouted, but he remained rooted, entranced by the grotesque sight.
She hesitated for a second, torn between saving him and saving herself. Then, reluctantly, she ran—glancing over her shoulder again and again, hoping he'd follow.
Inside, something battled within him.
Fight it.
The voice was clear but not his own.
It wasn't just an instinct. It was a command. A deep part of him urged him to strike—before the creature turned its attention to him. Yet another part hesitated, luring him back, paralyzing him in the past.
Suddenly, the ring on his finger began to spin.
A soft hum pulsed through his body. Energy flowed from the glowing star on his shoulder, down to his fingertips. Each point of the star emitted a faint light—responding to the surge within.
But time betrayed him.
In a blink, the insect lunged and slammed him to the ground. His head cracked hard against the earth, sending his thoughts spiraling.
And then—
He remembered.
He remembered watching his own body being torn apart. The blood. The claws. The pain. The helplessness. The screams that no one answered.
Just as the creature's mandibles reached down again, a piercing light cut through the beast from behind. A hand—a glowing, otherworldly blade in its form—burst through the insect's back with a sharp, deadly motion.
The creature shrieked. And Oliver lay beneath it, stunned.
Had anyone seen what he just did… if they had seen that power… he'd be dragged to the military. He'd have to go through his father's wrath before he'd ever make it out alive.
But someone did see.
The woman. She was far, but not far enough to miss it.
As the creature collapsed in a heap beside Oliver, its scream echoed through the woods. All around them, trees began to shake violently. A cry followed from deep within the forest—ancient, terrible, rising with the wind that began rushing toward them like a warning.
This time, the voice within didn't tell him to fight.
It told him to run.
He sprinted toward the woman. The trees groaned behind him, the earth trembling with the weight of whatever now stirred in the shadows. When he reached her, she stood still—staring—before running toward him, her eyes locked on his face.
They ran together, breath ragged, legs burning. Finally, after enough distance, they collapsed near a massive tree root. Oliver dropped onto the grass, leaning back, his heart pounding.
The woman caught her breath, then spoke.
"Are you… are you the guy who bumped into me yesterday evening?"
Her question was soft, but her eyes searched him, trying to peel back something hidden just beneath his skin.
Oliver closed his eyes. The memories of yesterday—the humiliation, the chaos, the chase—rushed back. He said nothing.
But then… she raised the violin and began to play again.
And like before, the melody wrapped around him, soothing his pain, quieting the noise in his mind. Something inside him stilled, frozen in its movement, clinging to the music like a lifeline.
He turned to look at her—and this time, lowered his gaze.
When his eyes reached her chest, they widened—not from lust, but recognition. Familiar warmth stirred inside him. A joy he couldn't explain.
"Wait… were you the one who smiled back at me?"
Instead of answering her question, he asked his own.
Their exchange became a spiral of questions—silent threads pulling them deeper into something they couldn't name.
Then, she paused. Her voice dipped low, almost trembling.
"Were you… the one who ran after Yama's confrontation?"
The question shattered the moment.
Oliver's heart stopped.
He couldn't answer. Couldn't even look at her. That name—Yama—was one he tried to erase from his memory.
But now, it had returned. And with it, everything he had tried so hard to forget.