The truck's engine roared as it tore down the dark, empty road. Kisimoto's grip tightened on the wheel, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The facility's alarms had faded behind them, but his mind screamed: they were not safe yet.
His mother sat beside him, whispering a prayer under her breath, hands clasped together as if holding herself together.
Roko stretched in the backseat, arms behind his head. "Damn, that was fun. What's next? A dragon attack?"
Kisimoto shot him a glare. "Shut up."
Roko smirked. "Killjoy."
But Kisimoto's mind was elsewhere.
On her.
Serena.
She sat by the window, dagger still clenched in her hand, fingers lightly tapping its blood-stained blade.
She had killed tonight.
She had enjoyed it.
Or had she?
Her once-soft gaze was gone, replaced by something distant, something unreadable. Kisimoto swallowed hard.
His mother noticed, hesitating before asking, "Serena… are you alright?"
No response.
She just hummed.
Softly. Childlike.
Kisimoto's stomach twisted.
Then—he saw it.
A figure in the road.
Standing completely still.
Waiting.
His heart stopped.
"…No way."
Roko leaned forward. "Uh, you seein' that?"
Kisimoto hit the brakes. The truck screeched to a stop, inches from the figure.
Silence.
A voice broke it. Low. Familiar.
"Well, well… Took you long enough."
The moonlight revealed his face.
Kisimoto's breath caught in his throat.
"…Dad?"
Their father stood before them, unharmed.
No smirk. No expression.
Just… there.
Like something wasn't real.
Roko's entire body went stiff.
Their mother gasped. Hands covered her mouth, eyes wide, trembling. "It can't be..."
Serena's humming stopped.
Her grip on the dagger tightened, knuckles white.
"Dead?" their father finished for him. His voice was calm. Too calm.
Roko breathed in. Breathed out. "Nope. TO HELL WITH THIS."
He dashed.
Sword drawn, feet barely touching the ground, he launched himself at the man.
And then—
VOOOOOO—
He disappeared.
Gone.
Vanished.
The empty night stretched where he had stood. No footsteps. No movement.
Just… gone.
Silence.
No one breathed.
No one spoke.
Then—
A single chill ran down Kisimoto's spine.
He was still there.
Somewhere. Watching.
His mother's hands shook.
Serena's lips parted, her body frozen. Even her other self had no words.
"...Where the hell did he go?" Roko whispered, his voice lower now. Serious.
No answer.
Kisimoto swallowed, sweat running down his temple.
"…Drive," his mother whispered. "Drive, now."
For once—Kisimoto listened.
He slammed the gas.
The truck lurched forward.
The road swallowed them.
But something had changed.
Something was wrong.
And none of them had any idea what.
TO BE CONTINUED...