The city's rain never stopped. It clung to the sidewalks like a memory no one wanted to wash away. Rhea's footsteps echoed through the empty streets, each step a countdown to whatever was waiting for her in the shadows.
She still felt the weight of Isaac's talisman heavy in her pocket. It wasn't just a charm — it was a lifeline, the only thing keeping the ghost inside her at bay. But every minute it burned cold against her skin, a reminder that this fight wasn't going to last forever.
Rhea's breath came out in shallow clouds, her eyes darting to every flicker of movement. Somewhere beneath the city's glow, her past self was stirring — hunger growing like a dark tide threatening to drown her whole.
"Why me?" she whispered to the rain, voice cracking. "Why do I have to carry this curse?"
A shadow shifted in an alley ahead, and she froze.
"Rhea."
Isaac stepped out, drenched and grim.
"You've been running," he said, voice low. "But you can't hide from yourself."
She swallowed hard, anger flashing in her eyes. "I'm not afraid."
Isaac shook his head slowly. "You should be. The more you fight, the stronger she gets."
Rhea's heart hammered. "Then what do I do?"
Isaac pulled out a worn notebook, its pages scribbled with symbols and notes in faded ink.
"This," he said, handing it to her. "Contains the key. But it's dangerous — diving into your past lives means facing everything you've tried to forget."
She flipped through the pages, eyes widening at the histories of lives she never lived but somehow remembered — names, places, faces marked by pain and death.
"Is this... real?" she asked.
Isaac nodded. "Every death, every memory, every soul fragmented over centuries."
Suddenly, the air shifted. A cold wind sliced through the alley, and a whisper curled around her ear: You're mine.
Rhea's past self wasn't just a ghost anymore — she was becoming something worse.
Isaac grabbed her arm. "We have to act. Tonight."
And just like that, the game changed.