Temple
Recap of Amber Deen's storyline: Deen attended a political event at city hall with her older sister. She was watching the crowd of protesters moving away from city hall when she noticed a person that looked familiar. It was revealed that Deen visited the bar where Erind stayed during the group's mission at the hospital. She wanted to find Erind's hoodie that was supposedly left behind there (it was actually covered in blood and Erind had to dispose of it). Instead, Deen found out that PCM members chased Erind from the bar, and the person she saw outside of city hall looked like one of them.
She decided to change her clothes and follow the man. This chapter is about one hour prior to the end of the previous chapter.
Amber Deen Leska
[I would not continue if I were you.]
“Will it hurt you to tell me why?” Amber Deen Leska grumbled. She peered from under the bill of the baseball cap she wore low to hide her face, shooting an irritated glare at the ball of feathers floating over her shoulder. “It’d be really helpful if you did.”
As expected, Gabe, the Guardian Angel didn’t answer her. It never did. It leisurely rotated in the air with its eyes tightly closed, unstirring and peaceful except for an occasional shifting of its blindingly white wings.
Deen didn’t turn back despite the warning. Instead, she focused on Gabe with her brows furrowed as she waded through the sea of yellow that was the rallying crowd of Protectors of the City Movement members. She tried to mentally will her Guardian Angel to give her more information. It was fruitless.
The woman to her right, wearing a yellow shirt just like most others and carrying a placard with a crude fist symbol on it, jerked in surprise upon meeting her intense gaze. Before she reacted, Deen hadn’t noticed her behind the floating Guardian Angel—which was disconcertingly both opaque and transparent at the same time. The woman gave her an offended huff and walked briskly to get ahead.
“I should’ve packed a yellow shirt.” Deen bowed her head and pulled her cap’s visor lower. “I hope I’m not standing out too much.”
[I would not continue if I were you.]
Gabe had been repeating that same message for the last couple of minutes, but she wasn’t concerned. The Guardian Angel’s tone wasn’t pressing like at Eve club when it warned them to stay away from the undercover BID agent. Deen settled with using the urgency in its ‘voice’ as an indicator of the level of risk for not following its advice.
Yes, it’s just a piece of advice.
Not an order.
I’m not constrained to follow everything it said, she reminded herself.
Paranoia was getting to her. She didn’t want to be confined in a downward spiral of being constantly wary of the future. Ironic that knowing the future—her powers weren’t exactly foresight but, in some ways, even more powerful—only made her fearful of…everything. She grimaced in annoyance when the realization came that she was second-guessing herself more now than before she had this special ability from the artificial Core. Really ironic.
She also didn’t want to be reliant on Gabe, constantly checking with it before doing anything. It was free to give her advice. She was free whether to follow it or not.
And that’s that.
[I would not continue if I were you.]
“I already told you, I’m following this person,” she hissed back at her feathery companion. The large man wearing a maroon beanie was about a dozen people ahead of her. “So just back me up.”
Gabe was likely just giving her general advice to be safe. Her solo tracking mission was admittedly venturing into risky territory no matter how she tried to frame it, and her Guardian Angel obviously didn’t want her to be in any danger at all.
However, there were many levels of danger.
Not following Gabe’s instructions didn’t automatically mean she was walking into a ‘Dead End’—that was the term she came up with for a situation wherein her Guardian Angel’s could no longer save her.
A Dead End would occur when her impending doom was outside the range of her Guardian Angel’s future sight. Meaning, no matter how Gabe juggled future possibilities, there was no way out for her, all choices leading to death. Like what if a nuclear bomb was going to be dropped on La Esperanza in a little over ten minutes? Once Gabe glimpses the future of an incoming nuclear bomb, she wouldn’t have enough time to escape the destruction—a Dead End.
I have a feeling Gabe can find a way to save me even in that hypothetical bomb scenario.
She really should have more confidence defying its more cautionary bits of advice and trust it to save her from the direst situations. Here she was with a power that could pick out the best future; it was hilarious she became more cautious because of it.
Deen shoved past a few people to get closer to her quarry.
The man she followed wasn’t doing anything particularly suspicious. He was just going with the PCM masses protesting down Marshall Avenue. He didn’t seem to have noticed he was being followed.
After Deen changed her clothes inside her car, she went off to find this man she suspected to have hurt Erind yesterday night. It took her less than five minutes to spot a maroon beanie cap a head taller than the rest of the crowd. Gabe helped by giving an order…no, advice.
Goes to show just how strong her power was, pulling information from futures that weren’t supposed to happen.
As she had guessed, the PCM rally turned right down Marshall Avenue and headed to EFU Medical Center, the hospital where the patients related to the recent Adumbrae attacks were confined.
Though not her main goal, Deen was curious why they were going there and was half-decided to find out. The PCM leader, Auron Cohenn, did give an ultimatum to the previous mayor that his ballooning organization was going to storm the hospital if the Adumbrae-related patients weren’t relocated. However, the deadline for that demand should be the next day, if she wasn’t mistaken.
There was a new mayor too. That was the reason they were protesting in front of city hall earlier, wasn’t it? To force him to give in to their demands that the previous mayor didn’t? Why did they leave city hall and head to the hospital?
There’s something big going on here.
She passed by buses and vans unloading more and more people, some wearing PCM paraphernalia, most not.
Were they even protesters?
If they were, where did they all come from? She didn’t notice anything on social media calling for people to attend a mass protest at this time and place; she would’ve seen it because she browsed Snippet the moment she woke up every single day. A gathering this large should have traces on social media. Actually, it should be front-and-center and shared everywhere online if their purpose was to call attention to their cause and persuade people to join them.
But there wasn’t even a pip about this. Then, hundreds, probably a few thousand people, suddenly showed up? That…that just didn’t happen without any preparation.
I should warn the others, Deen decided.
But who?
Not Erind obviously. She took out her phone and texted Dario—he was their leader, he should know what to do, and maybe he already had intel on what was happening. She kept her phone steady while the crowd jostled her. Her fingers stopped tapping the screen. What am I warning him about exactly?
There was something wrong here, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was. If their group came here because she called for help, what were they going to do? While pondering this, she spotted a hint of maroon move away from the corner of her eye.
She lost him while she was distracted. Fuck!
Deen’s eyes grew wide, surprised with herself that she cursed in her head. Erind would’ve laughed at her if she blurted that out loud. She shook her head and scrambled to find her target again.
“Where did he—? Is that him?” She noticed the man disappear into an alleyway.
Pushing people left and right, she made a mad dash for the sidewalk. She peered down the gap between a small pawnshop and a laundromat. Sure enough, her quarry was there, walking down the path in a relaxed way, still unaware of his tail.
Deen allowed herself a sigh of relief. She waited for the man to turn right before sprinting down the narrow alleyway. Reaching the corner, she paused again for a peek.
He disappeared once again. The back door of the building was swinging.
That way?
She entered the building, unconsciously glancing to her right at her Guardian Angel. She clenched her jaws and faced forward. There was no need to check with it for her every move. It was going to warn her if this was a trap. This was the time for assertive and aggressive Deen to show herself.
Stairs to her left, a door ahead of her.
The door was locked. She didn’t force it, instead choosing to go up the stairs.
She slowly ascended, part of herself expecting a trap, but not that slow that it’d be obvious she wasn’t supposed to be here. She hummed to appear nonchalant.
On the next landing, she found an open door. Since she didn’t see or hear anyone else going up, that man surely went inside this room. She nodded to herself and entered.
The room was empty except for an unknown machine in the middle of the floor. It looked like a metallic box with knobs on its surface. It had wires connecting it to what appeared to be a partially disassembled megaphone.
[Fall when you get hit. Pretend to be unconscious.]
Deen raised her brow.
A thud and a dull pain blossomed from the back of her head.
“Ow! Wha—?” Another blow. Quickly comprehending the situation, she dropped to the floor, faking a groan before becoming motionless. Someone hid behind the door and ambushed her. Why did Gabe tell her to do this instead of evading?
[Pretend to be unconscious], her Guardian Angel repeated the last part of its previous instructions. And then added, [Relax your body.]
Easier said than done.
She had already tensed up, adrenaline made her heart beat like a drum. She controlled her breathing and tried to slow it down, relaxing her muscles as she exhaled to disguise she was faking it. The image of an ice cream melting on the floor was in her mind.
The man who hit her stepped close to her head. She assumed he was wearing a maroon beanie cap. There were no other footsteps; he was alone.
He held her wrist and picked up her hand.
Deen did her best to resist her instinct to pull away.
The man let her hand go, and it fell to the ground with a slight thump. That apparently satisfied him because he walked away. It seemed he only intended to knock her out. He wasn’t even interested in finding out who she was.
She had her left cheek on the rough oak floor, her eyes still closed. Her face was getting itchy. The dust tickled her nose. She held her breath and tightened her abs until the urge to sneeze passed. Then she relaxed once again in case the man came back to check on her.
What am I waiting for?
Wasn’t she supposed to beat up—er, interrogate this man about what happened to Erind? Beating him up would follow if he did something bad to her best friend. He’d meet the same fate if he wasn’t going to answer her.
Deen found it ridiculous she was just lying down and doing nothing. He was a mere normal human, alone and with no chance for his fellow PCM members to help him.
There were metallic noises. Clinking and clanking, add in a minute hiss of air. The man was tinkering with the machine.
She opened her eyes a slit. She couldn’t see him; he was behind her. There was no way to tell if he was facing her or not.
Being prudent, she assumed he had a gun. But since he was busy with whatever he was working on, she had the element of surprise on her side even if he faced her direction. A single pistol wouldn’t work on her anyway with Gabe around. Hopefully, it wouldn’t tell her to get shot.
I’m just wasting time here. She recalled what Dario and Erind said. Since her Guardian Angel was silent, then she could do—
[Wait.]
Deen deflated. She relaxed her coiled muscles that were ready to spring into action and steadied her breathing. Her intuition told her she shouldn’t ignore Gabe this time. She did confirm the man was turned away from her, otherwise, he would’ve noticed her stir a bit.
“Smaller hands will probably be better.” The man’s deep voice was clear in this small room. The noises of the rally ongoing out the streets were muffled.
There was a burst of purple. Deen had her eyes closed, but the light was so bright it pierced through her eyelids. Despite the surprise, she remained motionless on the floor. She had no idea what just happened. Did the machine explode?
“It’s definitely way easier to tinker with this using my own hands,” said a child’s voice, likely a boy.
“Who do you think this woman is?” This time, it was a little girl’s voice.
Deen reflexively closed her eyes tighter. Who were these two kids? This room only had one door, but there could be a secret passage. Was the man with the maroon beanie still here?
“This wire to that…hmmm,” mumbled the boy with a hint of frustration. “Or is it this?”
“She was following us, correct? Or was I imagining it?”
“She was. But that isn’t our problem now.” More clanking. “This is.”
“What if she’s the enemy?” There were light footsteps. The girl was circling Deen.
“The likelier case is she knew the body we were using and followed him. If she’s his friend, she should be concerned about what happened to him last night.”
“Our story of what happened to him,” she corrected him with a giggle.
“No one has any reason to doubt our story. We disposed of that other body—the PCM assumed he was eaten by Red Hood—and you absorbed our current skin while I was babysitting Penemue. No trace.”
“Penemue must be seething we left him in the office.”
Deen nervously swallowed. These children were related in some way to the Adumbrae wearing a red hoodie that could transform into a giant werewolf. Were they allies or enemies of Red Hood? Were they connected to the 2Ms? Whatever the case, they weren’t on her side.
And they were talking about…are they Adumbrae?
She knew children couldn’t become one, but nothing was preventing an Adumbrae from having the power to take the form of the child. From their conversation, they might be shapeshifters that took on the form of the man she was following.
She now understood why her Guardian Angel didn’t want her to fight them head-on. Which was probably a good idea…
…but she wanted to ask them something.
The man wearing a beanie was looking for Erind last night. He chased her and probably found her. Was he still himself at that time, or was he already this shapeshifting Adumbrae? It was more plausible that an Adumbrae wanted to meet Erind.
Deen wanted to confirm that.
And what happened during their meeting?
Were they going to take Erind and help her become a full-fledged Adumbrae?
[Don’t fight them.]
You know I’m not going to follow you.
[Pretend you’ve just regained consciousness.]
Deen slightly jolted, surprised by the changed advice of her Guardian Angel. The kid near her made an inquisitive sound and came closer. She had to act fast.
“Ughhh…” She moaned, massaging the back of her head. “What happened?” She opened her eyes to the face of an innocent-looking girl with sapphire-like eyes and red hair tied in pigtails.
“Wow! You’re so beautiful,” the little girl gushed.
Temple
These two were the mysterious children that came out of nowhere Erind had seen the night before. The boy was the one who carried the axe during the warehouse incident.
Temple
Recap of Amber Deen's storyline: Deen attended a political event at city hall with her older sister. She was watching the crowd of protesters moving away from city hall when she noticed a person that looked familiar. It was revealed that Deen visited the bar where Erind stayed during the group's mission at the hospital. She wanted to find Erind's hoodie that was supposedly left behind there (it was actually covered in blood and Erind had to dispose of it). Instead, Deen found out that PCM members chased Erind from the bar, and the person she saw outside of city hall looked like one of them.
She decided to change her clothes and follow the man. This chapter is about one hour prior to the end of the previous chapter.
Amber Deen Leska
[I would not continue if I were you.]
“Will it hurt you to tell me why?” Amber Deen Leska grumbled. She peered from under the bill of the baseball cap she wore low to hide her face, shooting an irritated glare at the ball of feathers floating over her shoulder. “It’d be really helpful if you did.”
As expected, Gabe, the Guardian Angel didn’t answer her. It never did. It leisurely rotated in the air with its eyes tightly closed, unstirring and peaceful except for an occasional shifting of its blindingly white wings.
Deen didn’t turn back despite the warning. Instead, she focused on Gabe with her brows furrowed as she waded through the sea of yellow that was the rallying crowd of Protectors of the City Movement members. She tried to mentally will her Guardian Angel to give her more information. It was fruitless.
The woman to her right, wearing a yellow shirt just like most others and carrying a placard with a crude fist symbol on it, jerked in surprise upon meeting her intense gaze. Before she reacted, Deen hadn’t noticed her behind the floating Guardian Angel—which was disconcertingly both opaque and transparent at the same time. The woman gave her an offended huff and walked briskly to get ahead.
“I should’ve packed a yellow shirt.” Deen bowed her head and pulled her cap’s visor lower. “I hope I’m not standing out too much.”
[I would not continue if I were you.]
Gabe had been repeating that same message for the last couple of minutes, but she wasn’t concerned. The Guardian Angel’s tone wasn’t pressing like at Eve club when it warned them to stay away from the undercover BID agent. Deen settled with using the urgency in its ‘voice’ as an indicator of the level of risk for not following its advice.
Yes, it’s just a piece of advice.
Not an order.
I’m not constrained to follow everything it said, she reminded herself.
Paranoia was getting to her. She didn’t want to be confined in a downward spiral of being constantly wary of the future. Ironic that knowing the future—her powers weren’t exactly foresight but, in some ways, even more powerful—only made her fearful of…everything. She grimaced in annoyance when the realization came that she was second-guessing herself more now than before she had this special ability from the artificial Core. Really ironic.
She also didn’t want to be reliant on Gabe, constantly checking with it before doing anything. It was free to give her advice. She was free whether to follow it or not.
And that’s that.
[I would not continue if I were you.]
“I already told you, I’m following this person,” she hissed back at her feathery companion. The large man wearing a maroon beanie was about a dozen people ahead of her. “So just back me up.”
Gabe was likely just giving her general advice to be safe. Her solo tracking mission was admittedly venturing into risky territory no matter how she tried to frame it, and her Guardian Angel obviously didn’t want her to be in any danger at all.
However, there were many levels of danger.
Not following Gabe’s instructions didn’t automatically mean she was walking into a ‘Dead End’—that was the term she came up with for a situation wherein her Guardian Angel’s could no longer save her.
A Dead End would occur when her impending doom was outside the range of her Guardian Angel’s future sight. Meaning, no matter how Gabe juggled future possibilities, there was no way out for her, all choices leading to death. Like what if a nuclear bomb was going to be dropped on La Esperanza in a little over ten minutes? Once Gabe glimpses the future of an incoming nuclear bomb, she wouldn’t have enough time to escape the destruction—a Dead End.
I have a feeling Gabe can find a way to save me even in that hypothetical bomb scenario.
She really should have more confidence defying its more cautionary bits of advice and trust it to save her from the direst situations. Here she was with a power that could pick out the best future; it was hilarious she became more cautious because of it.
Deen shoved past a few people to get closer to her quarry.
The man she followed wasn’t doing anything particularly suspicious. He was just going with the PCM masses protesting down Marshall Avenue. He didn’t seem to have noticed he was being followed.
After Deen changed her clothes inside her car, she went off to find this man she suspected to have hurt Erind yesterday night. It took her less than five minutes to spot a maroon beanie cap a head taller than the rest of the crowd. Gabe helped by giving an order…no, advice.
Goes to show just how strong her power was, pulling information from futures that weren’t supposed to happen.
As she had guessed, the PCM rally turned right down Marshall Avenue and headed to EFU Medical Center, the hospital where the patients related to the recent Adumbrae attacks were confined.
Though not her main goal, Deen was curious why they were going there and was half-decided to find out. The PCM leader, Auron Cohenn, did give an ultimatum to the previous mayor that his ballooning organization was going to storm the hospital if the Adumbrae-related patients weren’t relocated. However, the deadline for that demand should be the next day, if she wasn’t mistaken.
There was a new mayor too. That was the reason they were protesting in front of city hall earlier, wasn’t it? To force him to give in to their demands that the previous mayor didn’t? Why did they leave city hall and head to the hospital?
There’s something big going on here.
She passed by buses and vans unloading more and more people, some wearing PCM paraphernalia, most not.
Were they even protesters?
If they were, where did they all come from? She didn’t notice anything on social media calling for people to attend a mass protest at this time and place; she would’ve seen it because she browsed Snippet the moment she woke up every single day. A gathering this large should have traces on social media. Actually, it should be front-and-center and shared everywhere online if their purpose was to call attention to their cause and persuade people to join them.
But there wasn’t even a pip about this. Then, hundreds, probably a few thousand people, suddenly showed up? That…that just didn’t happen without any preparation.
I should warn the others, Deen decided.
But who?
Not Erind obviously. She took out her phone and texted Dario—he was their leader, he should know what to do, and maybe he already had intel on what was happening. She kept her phone steady while the crowd jostled her. Her fingers stopped tapping the screen. What am I warning him about exactly?
There was something wrong here, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was. If their group came here because she called for help, what were they going to do? While pondering this, she spotted a hint of maroon move away from the corner of her eye.
She lost him while she was distracted. Fuck!
Deen’s eyes grew wide, surprised with herself that she cursed in her head. Erind would’ve laughed at her if she blurted that out loud. She shook her head and scrambled to find her target again.
“Where did he—? Is that him?” She noticed the man disappear into an alleyway.
Pushing people left and right, she made a mad dash for the sidewalk. She peered down the gap between a small pawnshop and a laundromat. Sure enough, her quarry was there, walking down the path in a relaxed way, still unaware of his tail.
Deen allowed herself a sigh of relief. She waited for the man to turn right before sprinting down the narrow alleyway. Reaching the corner, she paused again for a peek.
He disappeared once again. The back door of the building was swinging.
That way?
She entered the building, unconsciously glancing to her right at her Guardian Angel. She clenched her jaws and faced forward. There was no need to check with it for her every move. It was going to warn her if this was a trap. This was the time for assertive and aggressive Deen to show herself.
Stairs to her left, a door ahead of her.
The door was locked. She didn’t force it, instead choosing to go up the stairs.
She slowly ascended, part of herself expecting a trap, but not that slow that it’d be obvious she wasn’t supposed to be here. She hummed to appear nonchalant.
On the next landing, she found an open door. Since she didn’t see or hear anyone else going up, that man surely went inside this room. She nodded to herself and entered.
The room was empty except for an unknown machine in the middle of the floor. It looked like a metallic box with knobs on its surface. It had wires connecting it to what appeared to be a partially disassembled megaphone.
[Fall when you get hit. Pretend to be unconscious.]
Deen raised her brow.
A thud and a dull pain blossomed from the back of her head.
“Ow! Wha—?” Another blow. Quickly comprehending the situation, she dropped to the floor, faking a groan before becoming motionless. Someone hid behind the door and ambushed her. Why did Gabe tell her to do this instead of evading?
[Pretend to be unconscious], her Guardian Angel repeated the last part of its previous instructions. And then added, [Relax your body.]
Easier said than done.
She had already tensed up, adrenaline made her heart beat like a drum. She controlled her breathing and tried to slow it down, relaxing her muscles as she exhaled to disguise she was faking it. The image of an ice cream melting on the floor was in her mind.
The man who hit her stepped close to her head. She assumed he was wearing a maroon beanie cap. There were no other footsteps; he was alone.
He held her wrist and picked up her hand.
Deen did her best to resist her instinct to pull away.
The man let her hand go, and it fell to the ground with a slight thump. That apparently satisfied him because he walked away. It seemed he only intended to knock her out. He wasn’t even interested in finding out who she was.
She had her left cheek on the rough oak floor, her eyes still closed. Her face was getting itchy. The dust tickled her nose. She held her breath and tightened her abs until the urge to sneeze passed. Then she relaxed once again in case the man came back to check on her.
What am I waiting for?
Wasn’t she supposed to beat up—er, interrogate this man about what happened to Erind? Beating him up would follow if he did something bad to her best friend. He’d meet the same fate if he wasn’t going to answer her.
Deen found it ridiculous she was just lying down and doing nothing. He was a mere normal human, alone and with no chance for his fellow PCM members to help him.
There were metallic noises. Clinking and clanking, add in a minute hiss of air. The man was tinkering with the machine.
She opened her eyes a slit. She couldn’t see him; he was behind her. There was no way to tell if he was facing her or not.
Being prudent, she assumed he had a gun. But since he was busy with whatever he was working on, she had the element of surprise on her side even if he faced her direction. A single pistol wouldn’t work on her anyway with Gabe around. Hopefully, it wouldn’t tell her to get shot.
I’m just wasting time here. She recalled what Dario and Erind said. Since her Guardian Angel was silent, then she could do—
[Wait.]
Deen deflated. She relaxed her coiled muscles that were ready to spring into action and steadied her breathing. Her intuition told her she shouldn’t ignore Gabe this time. She did confirm the man was turned away from her, otherwise, he would’ve noticed her stir a bit.
“Smaller hands will probably be better.” The man’s deep voice was clear in this small room. The noises of the rally ongoing out the streets were muffled.
There was a burst of purple. Deen had her eyes closed, but the light was so bright it pierced through her eyelids. Despite the surprise, she remained motionless on the floor. She had no idea what just happened. Did the machine explode?
“It’s definitely way easier to tinker with this using my own hands,” said a child’s voice, likely a boy.
“Who do you think this woman is?” This time, it was a little girl’s voice.
Deen reflexively closed her eyes tighter. Who were these two kids? This room only had one door, but there could be a secret passage. Was the man with the maroon beanie still here?
“This wire to that…hmmm,” mumbled the boy with a hint of frustration. “Or is it this?”
“She was following us, correct? Or was I imagining it?”
“She was. But that isn’t our problem now.” More clanking. “This is.”
“What if she’s the enemy?” There were light footsteps. The girl was circling Deen.
“The likelier case is she knew the body we were using and followed him. If she’s his friend, she should be concerned about what happened to him last night.”
“Our story of what happened to him,” she corrected him with a giggle.
“No one has any reason to doubt our story. We disposed of that other body—the PCM assumed he was eaten by Red Hood—and you absorbed our current skin while I was babysitting Penemue. No trace.”
“Penemue must be seething we left him in the office.”
Deen nervously swallowed. These children were related in some way to the Adumbrae wearing a red hoodie that could transform into a giant werewolf. Were they allies or enemies of Red Hood? Were they connected to the 2Ms? Whatever the case, they weren’t on her side.
And they were talking about…are they Adumbrae?
She knew children couldn’t become one, but nothing was preventing an Adumbrae from having the power to take the form of the child. From their conversation, they might be shapeshifters that took on the form of the man she was following.
She now understood why her Guardian Angel didn’t want her to fight them head-on. Which was probably a good idea…
…but she wanted to ask them something.
The man wearing a beanie was looking for Erind last night. He chased her and probably found her. Was he still himself at that time, or was he already this shapeshifting Adumbrae? It was more plausible that an Adumbrae wanted to meet Erind.
Deen wanted to confirm that.
And what happened during their meeting?
Were they going to take Erind and help her become a full-fledged Adumbrae?
[Don’t fight them.]
You know I’m not going to follow you.
[Pretend you’ve just regained consciousness.]
Deen slightly jolted, surprised by the changed advice of her Guardian Angel. The kid near her made an inquisitive sound and came closer. She had to act fast.
“Ughhh…” She moaned, massaging the back of her head. “What happened?” She opened her eyes to the face of an innocent-looking girl with sapphire-like eyes and red hair tied in pigtails.
“Wow! You’re so beautiful,” the little girl gushed.
Temple
These two were the mysterious children that came out of nowhere Erind had seen the night before. The boy was the one who carried the axe during the warehouse incident.
