The world was quiet.
Liliana stirred slowly, her body aching from the inside out. The sky above her had returned to its usual twilight hue—faint purple clouds drifting across a blood-orange horizon, the kind of endless dusk only the Underworld could offer. She was lying in what remained of the carriage—or rather, the crater where it had stood.
Ash and charred debris coated the ground. One of the wheels was half-buried in the soil fifty meters away. The horses were gone. The guards were gone. Everything smelled like smoke and ozone.
She groaned as she sat up, arms trembling under her own weight. Her scarf—Sira's scarf—was singed, blackened at the edges, but still around her neck. She clutched it tightly.
The man. The explosion. The rift.
It wasn't a dream.
Her gaze drifted to the place where the assassin had stood. The dirt there was wrong. Twisted, glassy. Cracks etched out from it like veins, glowing faintly with energy she couldn't identify.
Nothing natural had done that.
She forced herself to her feet. Her knees nearly buckled. Every step felt like walking through water. But she moved.
The landscape stretched out before her, endless and dry. Scraggly underworld trees dotted the horizon, and far in the distance, the jagged outline of Ashen Hollow loomed like a scar across the land.
Liliana walked.
Her feet ached. Her breathing was shallow.
The silence wasn't comforting. It was heavy. Too still. She didn't even hear the wind anymore. Only her footsteps. Her heartbeat.
And something else.
A whisper.
At first, she thought it was her mind playing tricks.
Then it came again.
Left behind... yet still alive.
She froze.
"Hello?" she called, voice rasping.
Nothing.
She kept walking.
But the whispers continued.
"You cried. But no one listened."
"You begged. And they turned away."
They weren't hers. The voice was feminine. Light. Playful. Too sweet to be comforting.
Liliana stumbled, grabbing onto a nearby rock to keep from collapsing.
"What is this... what's happening to me?"
No answer.
Then, laughter.
Soft. Sweet. Cold.
It echoed like bells in a broken clock.
What a precious little doll, the voice cooed. Cracked and cast aside.
She looked around. Nothing but shadows. Nothing but empty land.
And then, in the corner of her eye—a flicker.
A girl.
Long black hair. Crimson and gold eyes. A crimson dress adorned with lace and dark ribbons. Smiling like she knew every terrible secret Liliana had yet to learn.
Gone in a blink.
Liliana gasped, stumbling back.
"Don't worry," the voice continued, lightly amused. "I won't bite. Unless you ask nicely"
Liliana gritted her teeth. "Who are you?"
"You can call me Kurumi" came the reply, almost affectionate.
"Why are you in my head?"
"Because you screamed. Loud enough to shake the cracks between worlds. I heard you. We all did"
You were so very... exquisite in your suffering.
Liliana took another step forward, heart pounding.
You should rest now, Kurumi murmured. You'll need your strength. Pain is a demanding companion.
As twilight deepened, she reached the outskirts of a ruined structure—an old outpost, probably abandoned before she was born. Stone walls half-collapsed, a crumbling tower leaning like a drunk sentinel.
She pushed through the broken gate and found shelter beneath a fallen archway.
It wasn't much.
But it was something.
She laid down on a bed of dead moss, pulling her coat tight.
Sleep came in waves.
And with it—dreams.
She stood in a red world.
The sky overhead swirled with shadows. Clocks ticked in reverse across the heavens. Gunshots rang in the distance, and time itself seemed to breathe.
Ahead of her stood Kurumi.
Poised. Elegant. Dangerous.
"Hello again, little devil", she said, curtsying mockingly. "You made quite the impression earlier. That surge of yours? Delicious"
Liliana stared, lost for words.
"Don't worry," Kurumi said, stepping closer. "You don't have to understand. Not yet."
"But we're bound now, you and I. Isn't that fun?"
"Just think of me when you bleed... and I'll be there"
She reached out, touched Liliana's cheek with a gloved hand.
"Sleep tight"
Liliana woke with a sharp inhale, trembling.
The voice was gone.
But the presence remained.
And she was no longer alone in her own head.
Far off, on a ridge above the ruin, a figure stood watching.
Their eyes narrowed.
"Interesting..."