Edel didn't realize how long she had been asleep until her phone pinged sharply nearby. The sudden sound jolted her awake, but a pounding headache tugged at her temples. She pushed herself up from the couch where she'd been dozing, noticing the soft weight of a black robe draped over her. For a moment, she struggled to remember what she had been doing before sleep claimed her, but her mind was foggy.

Glancing out the window, she saw the sun dipping low, casting long shadows — it was already late afternoon, almost evening. Groggy and disoriented, she shuffled toward her phone. The screen lit up with a string of worried messages from Hugo.

HUGO: Edel, your shipments arrived, but no one's picked them up. Is everything okay?

HUGO: It's been three days without a word. I hope you're safe. I know staying hidden is your priority—even from me.

As she sat up, a strange, unfamiliar smell rose from the couch—bitter, moist, almost sweet. It clung to the fabric, faint but noticeable. She wrinkled her nose and leaned away. What the hell...? It wasn't familiar, and it set her on edge. She scanned the room, trying to recall what she'd done before passing out, but her memory was hazy. Blurred. A jagged cut in her timeline.

I'll deal with it later, she told herself, pushing down the unease.

Anger began to simmer in her gut—not at anyone else, but at herself. I wasted three days, she thought bitterly. Three days gone because I let myself rest. The guilt clawed at her. Hugo had been checking in. Shipments had been delayed. And now her head throbbed, her brain fog thick enough to choke on. She rubbed her temples, frustrated that she couldn't even resume her work properly. Every thought felt like it was wading through molasses. Still, she forced herself to her feet, determined to shake it off—even if her body and mind were still fighting her every step.

Just then, the lights in the safehouse flickered—once, then twice—before stabilizing with a low, humming buzz. Edel froze. Something shifted in the shadows.

She instinctively reached for a weapon, but her fingers grasped at empty air. Her thoughts were too slow, her memory fogged—Where did I put it? She blinked hard, trying to force the clarity back, but it was like wading through a dream.

And then... the air turned cold.

From the dimness emerged a familiar shape—translucent, wavering like mist in a breeze. Edel's breath caught in her throat as her sister Rhiannon's ghost appeared before her, her presence flickering like a flame about to go out.

"Rhiannon?" Edel whispered, backing up slightly, her confusion giving way to a cold, deep dread. "What—how are you—?"

Rhiannon didn't smile. Her expression was grave, tired, already unraveling at the edges. "My tether to this world is nearly gone," she said, voice distant and echoing. "But I came back to warn you."

Edel stepped forward, heart racing. "Warn me? About what?"

"Astrid," Rhiannon said, the name sharp on her tongue. "She did something to you... You don't remember. She clouded your memory. There's Monclerchanteau energy all over her now. It's... inside her. It's twisted."

Edel's brows furrowed, her pulse pounding. "What do you mean? What did she do? Rhiannon—"

But Rhiannon was already fading, her form breaking apart like smoke in the wind. "Check your computer," she said urgently. "The drone... it saw what happened that night."

And then, with one last flicker, she was gone.

Edel staggered over to her desk, her head still pounding from the residual fog. Her fingers trembled as she tapped into the drone's backup footage—her security system had recorded everything, even if she couldn't remember it.

At first, she didn't understand what she was seeing. Shadows, voices, familiar touches. But then her breath hitched. She watched Astrid's figure move closer. Her eyes widened when she watched how she ripped Astrid's clothes off. She saw how she treated Astrid–rough, predatory, confused.

Then the sound came.

Edel's stomach twisted violently. It was her voice, but wrong. Beastly, desperate, dazed. The footage was grainy, but the implication was clear: Astrid had drugged her. Not with anything ordinary—this was magical. A love spell.

"A drug..." Edel whispered aloud, eyes wide. "She drugged me."

Disgust surged through her, hot and bitter. Her hand shot to her mouth, as if trying to hold in a scream. That wasn't me. That wasn't me.

And yet...

A strange heat curled in her chest—something wrong, something planted. Her thoughts twisted, flickering with unnatural fondness. Her heart beat faster, not in fear, but in warped affection.

No. No, this isn't real. She... She raped me.

Her eyes began to glow faintly, the spell still active within her. Another piercing headache split through her skull like a spike of ice.

The air grew colder.

From the corners of the room, the glowing grin of the Cheshire Cat stretched across the shadows once more, too wide, too knowing. Edel backed away instinctively, but the shadows only moved closer.

A figure stepped forward, cloaked in a darkness that rippled like smoke. A Masker?

Edel blinked hard, eyes glowing brighter now, vision unsteady. "Who... are you?"

The figure emerged into full view. Tall, coarse, predatory.

"I am Senyum," he said deathly, his face a blinding display of beaming eyes and large teeth extending beyond the sides of his face. "You're vulnerable, Edel. Your mind is cracked, shattered, your weaknesses abused, your trust betrayed. You'll make the perfect host."

Edel tried to find anything to fight against him, but her brain was like cotton. She couldn't even think. Her mind was wide open.

Senyum extended his hand, and shadows coiled around her limbs like smoke, a whirlwind beginning to enshroud her mind and body. "You've always had potential. But now... now you'll be mine."

In a final surge of darkness, his mind control spell enveloped her. Edel screamed—but it came out muffled and distant, like she was screaming from underwater.

When the smoke cleared, Edel stood still. A sleek, tiger-like mask clung to her face, jaw tense and unblinking. Her eyes blazed like fire, devoid of emotion—only purpose.

Senyum loomed over, beholding his work. "Huntress," he murmured.

He turned to the window and gestured toward the city skyline. "Now go. Bring me their souls. Let their fear feed me."

And without a word, Edel obeyed.