Chapter 8: The Three Hundred and Sixty-FifthIt was nearly eleven when we reached the Borderline Bar.
The moment we stepped into the third-floor office, a chill settled over the room.
Liam's back was straight, his hands resting at his sides, head slightly lowered. His face was calm. A faint smile rested there, rigid and unmoving.
Julian had gone pale.
"Boss... what do we do? Call the police?" His voice trembled despite his effort to steady it.
Jasper looked at me, instinctively, as if waiting for direction.
I glanced at the staff. Several of them were visibly shaking.
"Clear them out," I said.
No one argued. The staff left quickly—everyone except Julian, who lingered near the doorway.
"Sir..." he said quietly. "I didn't touch him. I didn't move anything. Should we... deal with the body?"
"No. Leave everything as it is." I kept my tone level. "You should step outside too."
Julian hesitated, then looked at Jasper.
"Rhan," Jasper said cautiously, "Julian knows this place better than anyone. Maybe he could help—"
"He can't."
I didn't raise my voice.
Julian swallowed and finally left.
Jasper opened his mouth again, but I spoke first.
"He's sensitive to this kind of presence. In a room like this, he'd be the easiest target."
There was no time to explain further.
I took several protective charms from my coat and handed one to each of them.
Then I passed Jasper a coil of inscribed cord.
"Nine across the doorway. Tight." I said.
He nodded and got to work.
Next came a stack of warding seals.
"Windows. Door frames. Seal them properly."
When the last seal was set, the cord tightened with a faint hum.
I drew out the Lumin & Umbra Sigil and held it at my side.
"All of you—leave. Now."
"What?" Several voices rose at once.
Selene stepped forward. "You're not staying in here alone."
"I am."
"If this turns dangerous, we face it together."
"You being here won't help," I said. "It will distract me."
The words came out colder than I intended, but I didn't take them back.
Bella stepped closer.
"Sir, let me stay," she said quietly. "Something changed after I crossed over. I can feel it. Maybe I can help."
I turned toward her. The Aether Cross pulsed once, warmth seeping through the metal.
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Thunder rolled across the sky. The first strike shook the building. The windows rattled in their frames.
I looked at the painting. It was moving.
The frame jerked against the wall, wood creaking under the strain.
"What's happening?!" Jasper shouted.
The second thunder followed almost immediately. Lightning flashed across the windows, turning the room stark white for a split second.
The floor trembled. The painting convulsed.
From Aya's brow inside the portrait, a green light began to seep outward. It wasn't bright, but it pulsed steadily, pressing against the surface of the canvas.
"It's venting," I said under my breath.
"Everyone out."
Before anyone could react—
The third strike came. Lightning tore through the window and hit the painting directly. The impact burst outward in a flare of gold light. For a moment, the entire room was swallowed in brightness.
"Rhan—what is that?!" Jasper's voice wavered.
"The Triple Thunder Invocation."
"What does that mean?"
"It's an old method," I said, not taking my eyes off the painting. "Lightning drags things back across the boundary. It breaks forced bindings."
Luna's voice broke through the noise. "It's burning!"
Crimson flames spread across the canvas. They clung to the surface, spreading in uneven patterns.
Inside the blaze, Aya's painted form flickered. Her features blurred, fractured, then reformed—only to break apart again.
My chest tightened.
"She's breaking free," I said. "We miscalculated."
Selene's eyes stayed fixed on the flames. "It required three hundred and sixty-five souls. There were only three hundred and sixty-four—"
"I have no idea."
Heat surged outward.
"Move."
I pushed them toward the doorway.
The explosion followed.
Fire burst from the office in a concussive wave. Furniture overturned. Glass shattered. The walls blackened almost instantly.
Liam's body was consumed in the blast before it even had time to fall.
When the noise finally subsided, smoke hung thick in the air. The smell of burnt wood and fabric lingered heavily in the room.
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In the center of the ruined office stood a woman in red.
She was completely still.
Her golden hair was arranged high in an archaic style, secured with a silver hairpin. Small jade beads hung from it, trembling slightly despite the absence of wind. A thin crimson veil covered her face, softening her features without hiding them.
Her robes spread across the scorched floor, the silk brushing lightly against blackened wood.
She was beautiful. Something in her presence pulled every gaze toward her.
I glanced toward Kai and Jasper—rigid, eyes unfocused, as if something had dulled their awareness.
Even Selene, Bella, and Luna had gone silent.
Then the woman in red lifted her head, and when she spoke, the voice that emerged from behind the veil was hoarse, low, and unmistakably male.
"Out... I am finally... out..."
The sound tightened the space around us. The dissonance was immediate—a flawless, veiled face paired with a voice worn thin and rough by something that had endured far too long.
This was not Aya.
Before the realization could fully settle, the voice rose again, strained and trembling with urgency. "Where is Aya? My—where is she? Aya! AYA!"
The figure snapped his head from side to side, sleeves slicing through the air, obsession written in the tension of his shoulders and the relentless pace of his turns.
"Rhan..." Jasper whispered. "What are we looking at?"
The figure reacted at once, his head turning toward the sound. His gaze struck with sudden intensity, fixed only on its target.
"Who are you?" he demanded. "Where is Aya?"
He stepped forward, and the floor cracked beneath his heel. The others recoiled instinctively, and I moved in front of them, extending an arm behind me to hold them back.
"You are Aya," I said.
The words fell into the space between us, and he went still. Slowly, as if afraid of what he might find, he lowered his gaze to his own body—the red silk draped over slender wrists, the faint tremor in the fingers at his sides.
For a brief moment he swayed, as though the ground itself had shifted beneath him, and then whatever fragile composure he had clung to began to break.
"No... this isn't—" His hands flew to the veil, gripping the fabric as if it were choking him. "How can this be?"
I did not look away. "Jasper. Bring me a mirror. As large as you can find."
Jasper hesitated only a fraction of a second before moving.
Selene's voice came from behind me, low and wary. "What are you doing?"
"We observe," I answered quietly. "Carefully."
Jasper returned with a mirror nearly five feet tall. The glass was dusty, the frame warped with age—but intact.
I took the mirror and carried it forward, setting it upright about ten feet away. The figure stiffened and fixed his gaze on it.
"What is that?" he asked.
" Something you haven't faced," I replied. The glass caught the dim light, reflecting her in full—the red robes, the veil, the unmistakable form of a woman, intact and whole.
He stared, silent, before finally drawing a breath.
"Aya..." His voice was quiet, reverent and strained. "It's her body... so why am I still here?"
His fingers hovered near the glass, trembling slightly, but he did not touch it. "If I remain... then where is she?"
His head lifted, eyes meeting mine. The fury remained, but it was tempered now, edged with fear.
I forced myself to keep my breathing steady.
"I don't know where Aya is," I said. "But I can help you find her."
Silence hung between us, thick and taut..
"Tell me your name," I continued. "If I know who you are, I'll know where to begin."
He didn't look away. His gaze stayed fixed on me, searching, weighing. Whatever storm had driven him moments ago had not disappeared, but it had focused into something sharper and more deliberate.
He was trying to decide what I meant to him.
The room held its breath.
And then he began to speak.
