Areal yanked the woman forward as they ran deeper down the alley, feet slapping the pavement.
Her grip stayed tight—annoyingly so.
"Let go!" he snapped.
"No," she said flatly, dragging him faster.
"Why not!?"
"Because if I let go, you might trip over air again."
"I DID NOT TRIP— I was being chased!"
She didn't respond.
He wasn't sure she even acknowledged the idea that he was a living person with feelings.
The alley opened into a quiet street, moonlight reflecting off puddles. Areal bent over, sucking air.
The woman looked barely winded.
"So," she said calmly, "those men—do you know them?"
"I was hoping YOU did!" he barked. "Because unless I committed a crime in my sleep—someone's after me for no reason!"
Her eyes narrowed.
She folded her arms.
"You're lying."
"What? How—how dare you just—"
"That vision," she cut in. "The battlefield. You saw it too."
Areal stiffened.
He had been trying very hard to ignore that part.
"It wasn't a vision," she said, more to herself than to him. "It wasn't fabricated. It was a memory."
"Lady, I've never fought in a battlefield— I get winded climbing two flights of stairs!"
She stepped closer.
Too close.
Areal took a step back until his heel hit a dumpster.
Without touching him, her presence radiated hostility—
like her stare alone could slice open a person.
"When you ran into me," she said quietly, "my body reacted on its own."
"Yeah, mine too, because you hit like a—"
"No." She cut him off. "Not impact. Instinct."
He blinked.
"What?"
"My instinct was to draw a blade."
Areal's heart skipped.
"And my instinct," she added, "was to aim for your throat."
Areal made an unmanly sound.
"WHAT— WHY— LADY, WHAT KIND OF— THAT IS NOT A NORMAL THOUGHT TO HAVE!"
She scowled.
"I didn't say I did it. Only that… my body remembered something."
"Oh fantastic. You're violent and my trauma is imaginary. Great start."
A sudden pulse of light burst between their hands.
They both flinched back as a faint tether, barely visible, flickered between their chests like a thin thread of gold.
"…What is that?" Areal whispered.
She stared at it with pure disgust.
"A bond," she said. "One I don't want."
"Join the club," Areal muttered.
The tether pulsed again—
and both of them felt it.
A flash.
A battlefield.
Swords clashing.
Her blade at his throat.
His dagger pressed to her ribs.
Two enemies locked in a fatal standstill.
A thunderclap snapped them back to the present.
Areal stumbled away, horrified.
"No. Nope. No thank you. I am not reincarnated. I am not bonded. I am not—whatever this is."
The woman crossed her arms, jaw tight.
"You're Areal Devyn," she said.
"And I…" she hesitated.
"...am Seris Valora."
He froze.
"Do I look like I recognize that name!?"
"You should. In every memory, you screamed it right before you died."
Areal stared at her.
Seris stared back.
A single leaf drifted by on the wind.
Areal finally whispered:
"This… is the worst Tuesday of my entire existence."