A great green tree rose among the other trees, the shadows of its green leaves covering a small river that flowed beneath it. The sunlight that managed to pass through reflected onto beautiful green grass.
Upon the grass, the footsteps of a child and a girl hurried as they played.
"Maia, have you seen this rose? It's beautiful, but—"
Without warning, the girl stopped.
Black mist poured out from her, covering the space that moments ago had been lit by sunlight. The girl at the center of that dark storm began to fade, bit by bit, until nothing remained behind her but a black storm.
The mist moved—as if aware—toward the boy, who stood frozen in shock. Then it began to seep into him.
---
Karl woke up gasping, clutching his chest. Sweat soaked him. He felt as if something had filled his very being.
He felt the warmth of sunlight slipping through the window.
Sunlight crept through a wide window, silk curtains swaying gently. An ornate chandelier hung from the high ceiling. For the first time in days, he smelled no blood. No smoke.
"Karl, are you alright? I heard you scream."
James's voice pulled him back to reality.
Karl nodded, looking around.
"It's okay. This is normal. You'll get used to it," James said.
Karl looked at him. "I hope so," he said, then rose.
He had been sleeping in a wide bed.
James sat beside him. "Ah, you're finally awake."
"What happened?"
"You passed out after what happened. More than three days have passed."
Karl's eyes widened.
"This is the second time I've seen this—though it happened to me too. It's an expected development after Awakening. But three days is a bit long. I've never heard of that before."
"Awakening?" Karl asked, pulling off the covers.
"Yes... but you don't look focused right now. I'll explain everything later."
"Where am I, first of all?" Karl said.
James slapped his forehead. "I completely forgot. That's the first thing I should explain."
"You're in Norq City now. The largest city in Jan Province. It belongs to the Golden Feather Clan."
Karl's eyes widened.
"That famous clan? What am I doing here?"
"Don't worry. I'll explain everything—what's going to happen later. For now, just focus on yourself
Karl washed himself, still trembling.
The hot water didn't chase away the cold that had seeped into his bones since that night. Or maybe there just wasn't enough hot water left in the world.
He stepped out into the garden. It was vast, green, lavish. Servants hurried in every direction, each carrying something, each knowing where they were going. Karl stood alone, not knowing where to place his feet.
"Young master requests you."
He turned. A servant in formal attire, his face empty of expression.
"The head of the house?"
A nod. Then silence.
"Where are James and Kael?"
"James is in the hall waiting for you. Kael... is in the city."
In the city. Karl didn't ask why. Didn't ask when he'd return. He just followed the footsteps.
---
In the meeting hall, two men sat.
The first was James—the scar on his face seemed deeper under the chandelier's light, his faint smile hiding more than it revealed.
The other... middle-aged. A long coat even in the morning warmth. His hands were clasped on the table, his eyes watching the door.
When Karl entered, he didn't move. Just watched.
"So."
James stood. "Karl... it's time."
Time for what?
James gestured to the seated man. "This is our team leader. In the Scarlet Rose Organization."
Scarlet Rose. The thorned rose. The name he'd seen on the box, on the corpses, in his nightmares.
"We prevent the plague from spreading. Or try to."
The leader spoke at last. His voice was calm, heavy. "I need your decision."
Silence.
Karl looked at his hands. They were clean now. No trace of Maia's blood.
But he felt them trembling.
"What... what would I actually do?"
The leader exchanged a glance with James.
Then he leaned forward.
"First: sit down."
On the other side of the city...
The Silver Hoof tavern.
From the outside, just another ordinary tavern in a narrow alley. Inside, it was darker than it should be. The stench of cheap drinks mixed with the sweat of tired bodies, and the noise of brawls and chatter filled the air.
Kael walked in.
No one looked at him. Or maybe they looked, then remembered not to.
The bartender was wiping a table with a cloth that didn't seem any cleaner than the table itself. His hair was tied back with a ribbon, his shirt stained in places.
He looked up. Smiled.
"Kael. How long's it been?"
Kael sat down without answering. The bartender placed a glass in front of him—didn't ask what he wanted. Had known him for years.
"So... how was the trip?"
"You could call it a success."
The bartender stopped wiping. "In the usual sense of the word?"
"As much as anything can be called a success."
A pause. Then: "What do you need?"
"Alex."
The hand holding the cloth froze.
"The Plague Eye?" the bartender whispered. For a moment, he seemed to forget how to breathe. Then he looked up. "How did you survive him?"
"We didn't. He pulled back. On his own."
The bartender set the cloth down slowly.
"The Plague Eye never retreats."
"I know."
"If he pulled back..."
"...then they're planning something."
The bartender studied him for a long moment. Then went back to wiping the table—slower than before.
"God be with you."
Kael drank his glass in silence.