Aya replayed the video her sister recorded that night again and again.
She scratched her head in frustration. The footage was too dark, the shapes unclear.
But only one thought remained in her mind.
This is the man who killed Aliya.
She sighed heavily.
The wound on his neck—bite marks. And that strange tattoo near his ear.
Aya studied the symbol from every angle, yet nothing about it felt familiar.
Finally, she closed her laptop.
Her head was beginning to ache.
This evidence still wasn't enough.
She rubbed her temples before glancing at Cloud.
The cat always became restless whenever the video played.
Aya gently stroked his fur, pulling him into a tight hug.
"Help me, Cloud…" she whispered.
"Help me find Aliya. Help me give her a proper resting place."
Her voice trembled.
Tears filled her eyes again.
Every time she thought about Aliya's absence, her chest tightened painfully.
The truth haunted her.
Aliya was gone.
And guilt crept quietly into her thoughts.
Was it wrong to bring her to the city?
Did I doom her?
No.
No more crying.
This will be your last breakdown, Aya. You have to be strong.
She tried to hold back her tears.
But Cloud licked her cheek gently, making her cry even harder.
She hugged him tightly—the last living memory she had of her sister.
Eventually exhaustion pulled her into sleep.
She woke later when her stomach growled loudly.
After feeding herself and Cloud, she sat in front of her laptop again.
The blank screen reflected her tired eyes.
Maybe I should go to the clinic.
Maybe there's still something I missed.
She quickly dressed and brought Cloud with her.
Soon she was driving toward the place that once held her dreams.
The moment she stepped inside the clinic, the faint stains of blood made her chest ache sharply.
You're not here to break down, Aya.
You're here to find clues.
She turned on the lights.
Even though the place had been cleaned, the faint scent of iron still lingered in the air.
The clinic felt painfully silent.
Aya walked slowly toward the place where Aliya's severed arm had been discovered.
She knelt down, searching carefully.
Anything.
Any clue.
Then she noticed something beneath a shelf.
Frowning, she reached toward it.
Her fingers brushed against something small and round.
A pen.
Did Aliya use this to defend herself?
Aya examined it closely.
Red stains covered its surface.
Blood.
She lifted it closer to her nose—then quickly recoiled.
Definitely blood.
She needed to bring this to the police.
She turned toward the door—
—and froze.
A boy stood quietly in the entrance.
Aya nearly jumped.
"Do… do you treat animals?" the child asked shyly.
He held a tiny kitten in his hands.
The animal was barely breathing—its body battered and weak.
XXX
Daniel and Aliya followed the boy carrying the injured kitten.
He entered a veterinary clinic.
To Aliya, the place felt unfamiliar.
Nothing about it stirred any memory.
"I'm sorry, we're closed right now," the veterinarian said gently.
"Please…" the little boy begged, tears filling his eyes.
Aliya clenched her fists.
She wanted to reach out and take the kitten—to free it from its suffering.
"I don't want that kitten to suffer anymore," she murmured.
But Daniel gently stopped her, placing a hand on her arm.
He shook his head.
"We cannot interfere," he said quietly.
"If the kitten's time has come, we will guide its soul."
"But if the boy manages to save it… then its time has not yet arrived."
"We cannot take a life before its moment."
Aliya lowered her gaze.
"I just… hate seeing them in pain," she whispered.
"If they couldn't help it, they should have let me guide it myself."
"I'm really not allowed to treat animals today," the veterinarian said apologetically.
A cat walked out from the back room.
The woman called to it.
"Cloud, not now."
Cloud.
Aliya froze.
Cloud?
Where have I heard that name before?
A faint image tried to surface in her mind—something warm, something familiar.
But the memory was blocked again, as if something refused to let her remember.
Aliya winced and shook her head.
"You okay?" Daniel asked.
She nodded weakly.
Meanwhile, the cat named Cloud approached the injured kitten.
He sniffed it carefully.
Then he looked up at the veterinarian as if pleading.
The little boy began to turn away.
"Wait," the veterinarian called.
He stopped.
"I don't want to give him to those two men waiting outside," the boy whispered.
"They'll use him for fighting."
Aliya stiffened.
Daniel glanced at her knowingly.
Tears streamed down the boy's cheeks.
The veterinarian nodded.
"We won't give him to them."
Cloud seemed satisfied—almost as if he understood the conversation.
Thank you… just like you saved me before.
Aliya faintly heard a whisper.
It came from Cloud's soul.
The veterinarian quickly began treating the kitten's wounds.
"Greg," a man called as he walked in.
He glanced at the situation.
"Sorry," he muttered to the veterinarian.
Aliya stood quietly, watching the careful hands cleaning the kitten's injuries.
Her watch— which had glowed red earlier—slowly dimmed.
The meaning was clear.
This life would continue.
The kitten was not ready to be guided.
Daniel tapped her shoulder.
Aliya nodded.
"Don't be surprised," Daniel said softly.
"Some humans are born with the ability to sense us."
Aliya continued watching the veterinarian.
Do I… know her?
The thought returned again.
But no memory followed.
Greg soon left the clinic, the kitten held carefully in his arms.
He shielded the animal protectively, turning his body slightly as if afraid someone might take it away.
"Greg, come on. Thalia is waiting," the man said.
Aliya watched them disappear down the street.
"Aliya," Daniel said gently.
"Let's go."
They walked side by side.
With a simple motion of Daniel's hand, the world around them dissolved.
In an instant, they vanished from the human world—
returning to the realm where guardians belonged.