A quick snap of Damien’s little fingers was enough to drag Olivia back to the physical world, ending her subversive flashback. She paused for a short moment, habitually scanning the dimly lit surroundings of Damien, Shinso, and Isaac’s apartment room. After ensuring she was in a safe space, she looked down at the white-haired boy sitting beside her and slowly sighed.

  “Where were we?”

  Damien’s brows furrowed a little, and he bit his lip. “We were talking about Isaac… How I see him, I see his ghost, and it talks to me.”

  Olivia nodded her head, silently recalling the entire interaction between the two. “Right, right.”

  Her soft hand, which now found its way on top of Damien's—which was slightly obscured by his pajama sleeves—tightened its grip in a slow, deliberate manner.

  “I once met a boy exactly like you; did I ever tell you that?”

  Damien shook his head. “No. Were they from the asylum or something? I never talked to anyone back there.”

  “No, they were back in my home. His name was Raiko, and he claimed he could see his parents.”

  “See his parents?” Damien scoffed, feigning an almost arrogant and matter-of-fact smile. “Everyone sees their parents, don’t they?”

  “Yes, but…” Olivia’s words trailed off.

  She reached into her pocket, taking out a small hairpin. After wrestling her golden locks into a ponytail above her hair, she continued speaking.

  “Raiko was different. The parents he could see sometimes did great things with him—they washed him, they ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner with him, they read him stories to sleep, and whatnot. But they also locked him in the closet when he was too loud whilst his grandmother slumbered… and they only let him out hours later.”

  Olivia watched as Damien’s expression palpably shifted, his pale-colored skin turning even brighter. The way his eyes widened seemed to exemplify the dark circles that formed around them, making the white-haired boy look more like a raccoon who survived an encounter with a wild animal much bigger than itself.

  “M-my parents never did that to me…”

  Olivia’s lips twitched. “That’s why Raiko was different, why you’re different, and why everyone’s different.”

  “Now, what’s all this got to do with Isaac? I can see his ghost and stuff; he talks to me all the time.”

  She paused for a beat, retracting her hand and gaze. She looked to the far corner of the room, noticing how a portion of the pillows and blankets had been stacked into what looked like a pillow fort. Seeing this, Olivia’s lips formed a small smile.

  “Do you talk to Isaac… in there?”

  Damien didn’t immediately reply. Instead, he stood up and trotted over to the pillow fort in the corner of the room, parting the blankets, which were held up by plush, soft pillows, and entering the dark space.

  After a few seconds, he reemerged, carrying a small folded piece of paper.

  “We write letters often.”

  Olivia chuckled. “Letters?”

  Damien smiled. “Yep.”

  He sat down on the bed beside Olivia, unfolding the piece of paper and showing it to Olivia. On the paper was Damien’s messy handwriting, typical of a boy who lacked much education or literary prowess. Seeing all the jumbled phrases, incorrect punctuation usages, and lack of proper grammar had Olivia’s mind running back and forth in a marathon to comprehend what exactly Damien was talking about.

  “What are you saying to Isaac in this letter?” Olivia pointed to the wrinkled sheet of paper.

  Damien’s small hands—which held the corners of the paper—tightened their grip around the edges, making the letter wrinkle and make crinkling noises.

  “I asked him how he’s doing, where he is, and all of those questions.” Damien’s smile remained on his face as he continued to read the letter.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Before Olivia could say anything more, Damien flipped the paper over. When she caught sight of the letters and words, Olivia’s entire body tensed, blood running ice cold like a bitterly cold, almost arctic chill had blasted through an open window behind her.

  “Isaac responded to my letter. Though, I don’t exactly know why he’d write in red… I’ve never seen red ink before.”

  “E-excuse me…” Olivia muttered as she took the paper from Damien’s hands, reading the contents up and down.

  “Damien, I thank you for your concern regarding my condition. It’s not every day someone feigns concern or deliberate ambition to know more about me or even acknowledge my absence. None of my friends—not even Shinso—have gone out to look for me. You, on the other hand, I thank you deeply. As for where I am, it’s dark and cold, dreary, and almost miserable in a sense. I see nothing around me except a blackness akin to an endless, gaping void.

  “As for how I’m doing, I find myself largely uncertain on where and who exactly I am. But deep down, I know that I’m a being meant for destruction; I know that I can control and utilize the power to rip plants from their axis, eat stars like they’re simply a pre-meal appetizer, and control everything and everyone I admire and love.

  “Unfortunately, this is all I can write for you at the moment. Perhaps we can become more acquainted another day. Your deceased yet friendly pen pal, Isaac, or Silas; I can’t exactly tell who I am.”

  After reading the contents of the letter, Olivia felt her head begin to spin. She had a million questions yet not enough time to answer them. Without thinking any longer, she shot up from the bed and approached the door before looking back at Damien, who took the letter back, folded it back up, and tucked it into his pocket.

  “I’ll be right back; I have to find Mr. Aizawa.”

  …

  Clatter!

  A stone sphere engraved with meticulous green carvings hit the wall of the underground cathedral with a slam that reverberated across the entire space. Ayumi—now in a secluded room—drew her creamy hands into taut fists that trembled inscrutably from pent-up emotions.

  When she had taken Jasmine back from the manor after cauterizing her wounds, she had found this space sealed off from the rest of the underground cathedrals, alongside that stone sphere she had chucked into the wall. When she looked back at the space where it had collided, she took notice of the noticeable cracks in the walls where it had been thrown into.

  Tears continued to tickle and prick the corners of her dark-colored eyes as she walked to the damaged stone wall, running a hand along the contours of the cracks and damage. The entire time, the same thoughts ran loops in her mind like a nauseating mantra:

  Wilfred was dead, and she wasn’t able to save him.

  She had witnessed many things—zombies, wraiths, and nobles losing control and turning into horrifying monsters—but nothing could exactly prepare her for what she had witnessed. Sure, the veil of loss was one she had greatly grown accustomed to—after all, Isaac was dead—but not exactly dead to her; she always clung to the hope that the boy would someday return to her and company.

  But this inability stung her like a malevolent wasp—some insect or arthropod with venom equivalent to acidic, toxic sludge.

  “Ayumi, are you making havoc in there?” A familiar voice cut through the silence. Ayumi flinched, wiping her eyes as she walked over, opening the door as she sniffled.

  Humphrey was standing here, with Captain Silas beside him. While Humphrey looked more concerned, Captain Silas immediately entered the room, looking around. After a second or two, he grumbled and looked back at Ayumi.

  “You damaged the wall.”

  “I know,” Ayumi sniffled, brushing off the subject as Humphrey led her out of the room.

  After Humphrey led her from the room, they navigated the underground chambers before stopping by Humphrey’s office. He pushed the door open, allowing Ayumi entry. Inside, the shelves remained lined with jars filled with the man-eating plants. Their tongues habitually slammed against the glass as the two of

  them entered.

  Humphrey paid the plants no attention, sitting at his desk and letting out a slow sigh. “Ayumi… I know it’s hard—”

  Ayumi abruptly slammed her hand on the desk, tears now running freely from her eyes as she gazed into Humphrey’s with palpable animosity and distress.

  “We need to go back! I—we can save him!”

  Humphrey initially didn’t speak, not wanting to interrupt Ayumi’s prattle. He clasped his hands together, fingers trembling as he sighed with remorse.

  “W-we don’t have enough… evidence or research to know if going back there is safe. We’re dealing with something that wiped out our entire platoon in mere moments. You should consider yourself lucky you even escaped alive.”

  Ayumi’s bottom lip quivered as she sputtered out. “Do you want more people to get hurt and die? We lost a good woman and her son, my friend! T-this thing you want to contain or destroy is something you may not understand, but we’re from the Mother Nature church; we’re Pollinators! If we can go back, if we can figure out what the hell is happening, we can prevent this bullshit from destroying the entire kingdom!”

  The door behind them suddenly opened, and a pollinator with red hair, freckles, and clad in pollinator attire walked into the room.

  “Mr. Humphrey, we’ve discovered something at the scene of Madame Fitzgerald's house.”

  Ayumi’s eyes widened. “What is it?”

  The red-haired man took a deep breath. “Something ancient, something we don’t exactly understand yet. From our short research and analysis, we believe it’s… an ancient piece of architecture dating back to a period over two thousand years ago.”