"The Fifth Whisper"

A deep, impenetrable darkness—so absolute that even shadows refused to exist within it.

Silence stretched thick, as if time itself had halted in this void. Yet, in the midst of this eerie stillness, a silhouette flickered through the air.

It was the same mysterious figure that had vanished from Siara's apartment.

As the shadow touched the ground, another figure stood waiting, Lucien.

The moment the shadow noticed him, a cold voice echoed through the void.

"What are you doing here, Lucien? I told you not to come."

Lucien smirked, shaking his head as if amused by an old friend's stubbornness.

"I've followed your orders for the past five years, but not anymore."

His voice carried an unusual weight, a sense of inevitability. He paused for a moment, then murmured,

"Because the time… is finally upon us."

The silence thickened, pressing in like a living entity.

The shadow remained still for a long moment, but then… another presence stirred.

Lucien's words had triggered something. The second figure reached up and pulled away the dark hood covering their face.

As the cloth slipped away, a faint glow illuminated sharp, regal features—stern, unreadable, but powerful.

Lucien's smirk deepened.

"Leon."

His tone held a peculiar mix of amusement and recognition.

"Ah, Leon. The one who has always protected Siara."

Leon's eyes narrowed.

"So… you know about her?"

Lucien shrugged, as if the matter were trivial.

"Of course, I do. She was far too curious for her know me. That girl even tried to peek into my mind."

His voice lowered slightly, laced with something unreadable.

"You know… ordinary humans can't even perceive me, and yet, that girl to reach into my thoughts."

Leon's expression hardened for a split second.

"Lucien, stop calling her 'that girl.' You have no idea who she is… what she is."

Lucien chuckled mockingly, feigning exaggerated horror.

"Oh no! Forgive me, Lord Leon! Will my tongue burn if I dare call her 'that girl'?"

Leon shot him a glare, but Lucien remained unfazed, the amusement lingering on his lips.

Then, abruptly, his smirk faded.

His voice turned solemn.

"Your father is searching for you, Leon. For you and Siara."

Leon stiffened. The humor drained from his face, replaced by a deep, calculating silence.

"So… it's finally beginning."

Lucien gave a slow nod.

"Yes. And this time… we won't be able to stop it."

The Next Morning…

Siara left for the café earlier than usual. The crisp morning air made the rich aroma of coffee even more intoxicating.

She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and stepped toward the café's entrance.

But then— A strange sound.

It wasn't loud, yet something about it sent a chill down her spine. It carried a strange vibration, like a message trapped between urgency and hesitation.

Siara froze.

Right outside the café, a man stood.

Tall, with messy black hair and eyes that shimmered with an eerie intensity, like he didn't belong to this world.

His gaze locked onto Siara with unsettling focus, an unspoken urgency flickering behind his expression.

Siara ignored him at first, moving toward the café doors, but—.He stepped into her path.

She halted.

"Excuse me?" Siara's voice was calm, controlled.

But the man didn't move. His breathing was uneven now, rapid. Then, he muttered something, words in a language unfamiliar to her.

Siara's skin prickled.

She couldn't understand him, but there was something undeniably off about his tone. It wasn't random gibberish. It was a warning.

A desperate one.

Before she could react, someone from inside the café called her name. Her attention flickered for a brief second—just one.

And when she looked back, He was gone.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She glanced around. No trace of him. No footsteps. Nothing.

How? He was just here.

A shiver crawled down her spine.

Who was he? And what language was that?

As she stepped into the café, her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.

One thought echoed in her mind,

Would he come back?

Just then, a voice called out from inside the café again. Taking a deep breath, Siara turned around and walked in briskly.

As she stepped inside, she spotted Leon and Marco standing there. Still burning with irritation, she demanded, "What happened? Why were you yelling?"

Marco gave a small smirk, as if he had already anticipated her annoyance. "What's wrong, Siara? Why do you look so upset?"

Siara shot a glare at Leon before speaking in a sarcastic tone, without taking any names. "Oh, nothing. It's just that certain pets seem to be hovering around me a bit too much lately."

Leon's gaze lingered on her for a moment, but he didn't respond. Siara forced a thin smile and turned directly to Marco. "Chef Marco, did you need something?"

Marco nodded with a light smile. "Yeah, we're running low on some supplies. Could you restock everything?"

"Alright, just give me the list, and I'll get it all," she replied, then walked over to the counter.

Marco headed toward the kitchen, but Leon remained standing there, his eyes fixed on the door, the very spot where that mysterious stranger had been just moments ago.

For a split second, something flickered in Leon's gaze. And then, suddenly, his eyes glowed—a deep, enigmatic golden hue. It was as if he could see something that no one else could.

But then, "What now? Planning to stare the door into submission? Or did you miss lunch today?"

Siara's sarcastic remark snapped Leon out of his trance. The golden glow in his eyes vanished instantly.

He blinked, shaking his head slightly before flashing a small, unreadable smile at her. Without a word, he turned and walked toward the kitchen.

Siara watched him leave, then quickly looked away, determined not to dwell on it.

Her mind was still stuck on that stranger and the strange language he had spoken, but she refused to let herself get lost in those thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, she busied herself with work. And yet, in some corner of her mind, the stranger's presence refused to fade.

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