Valmet stared at her reflection, studying every inch of her face with a cold detachment. Her skin was pale, almost translucent under the bathroom light, and a faint, unnatural chill clung to her. She brushed her fingers over her wrist, searching for a pulse, but felt nothing. She’d tried convincing herself that maybe it was just nerves, that maybe her pulse was too faint to feel.

But there was no escaping the truth. She was dead. Undead, she corrected herself, not fully understanding what that even meant.

Her mind reeled with questions, each one gnawing at her. What happened to me? How long can I keep this hidden? She had to find answers—and that meant finding Huebert. But the thought of talking to him only sparked anger inside her. The demon had done this to her, bound her to some twisted new existence, and he owed her an explanation.

With a snarl of frustration, she grabbed her helmet and threw it over her head, the act feeling automatic as she stormed out to her motorbike. The engine roared to life as she straddled the seat, gripping the handlebars tightly. The vibration ran through her hands, grounding her for a brief moment, but it wasn’t enough. She needed release—something to shake the fury and confusion swirling inside her.

She sped down the streets, the city’s lights blurring past as she weaved in and out of traffic. Each twist of the throttle felt like shedding a layer of her frustration, and she screamed into the night, her voice muffled by the helmet but fierce enough to satisfy. The cool night air whipped past her, stinging her cheeks, yet it only fed the fire raging inside her.

“Damn you, Huebert!” she shouted, her voice tearing through the noise of the engine. “Damn all of you—Steven, the monster that did this to me, every last one of you!”

Her speed increased, the bike vibrating under her as she pushed it to its limits. The world was a blur, her mind racing, her hands gripping so tightly she could feel the bite of the handlebars through her gloves—or rather, glove. It wasn’t until she reached the cliff edge of Lovers’ Point that the realization struck her.

The bike screeched to a stop, and she was thrown off balance, skidding to a halt at the edge. Her heart, or whatever was left of it, lurched in her chest as she stared down at the rocky cliffs below, the dark waves crashing against them far below. She’d come close—too close. Her breaths came in short gasps as she tried to gather herself, but there was a numbness spreading through her, chilling her from the inside out.

It was only then that she noticed her left hand, bare and cold in the night air. Her glove was missing.

A laugh bubbled up in her throat, half-mad, tinged with disbelief. She hadn’t even realized it was gone, hadn’t even noticed the bite of the cold on her hand. Of course I wouldn’t have. I’m not alive anymore.

The weight of that truth settled over her, wrapping around her like a shroud. She stood there, staring out over the cliffs, feeling an emptiness she couldn’t shake, and whispered into the night, “Huebert… you owe me an explanation. Or I swear, I’ll find a way to make you pay for this.”

The silence that followed seemed to mock her, but for the first time, she felt a grim resolve settle inside her.

Valmet’s fingers curled into fists as she stood at the cliff’s edge, staring down at the rocky descent below. She could still feel the remnants of anger pulsing through her, but there was no relief—just the hollow reminder of what she’d become.

Then, from the shadows just behind her, a low chuckle filled the air, soft and mocking. “Oh, dear Valmet, I wouldn’t suggest jumping. You won’t die. Not even from that fall.” The voice was like velvet, laced with mirth and just a hint of cruelty. “Because I simply won’t let you.”

She turned sharply, meeting the amused gaze of Huebert, who emerged from the darkness with an exaggerated sigh. His figure was barely solid, like he was a part of the shadows themselves, yet his smile was sharp and bright, betraying a mixture of playfulness and scorn.

“Look at you,” he purred, folding his arms. “Furiously running away on your little motorbike, screaming into the night. It’s almost… cute.” He tilted his head, examining her with that detached curiosity. “You’re still clinging to the past, trying to make sense of all this with that poor, mortal brain of yours.”

Valmet gritted her teeth, anger flaring in her eyes. “You did this to me. You turned me into… this.” She gestured to herself, voice thick with resentment. “You owe me answers.”

Huebert only smiled wider, stepping closer until they were nearly nose to nose. “Yes, you’re undead now. Yes, you owe your… state of being to me. But I owe you nothing, my dear. In fact,” he added, leaning in conspiratorially, “it’s high time you grew up and accepted it.”

Valmet’s heart—or whatever now beat inside her—sank at his words. But her pride kept her from breaking, and she stood her ground. “So what now, Huebert? You want me to just ‘face reality’ and what? Play along?”

Huebert chuckled, an indulgent sound. “Precisely. You have been given a gift. You are free from the limits of mortality, and that means you have potential. I have a plan for you, Valmet—a far grander one than you could imagine.”

He took a step back, spreading his arms wide as if presenting her with some grand view. “I’ll offer you training, a chance to understand what you’ve become. You’ll learn to control your power, hone it, maybe even master it. And yes, I’ll throw in lessons for your little friends—Steven and Melody. They’ll need them. After all,” he smirked, “you’ll all be preparing for something big.”

Valmet’s eyes narrowed, curiosity and resentment warring within her. “What do you mean, ‘something big’? Why us?”

Huebert’s smile faltered for the briefest moment, a glint of something far darker flashing in his eyes. “Because, my dear, you’re destined to kill a legend—a so-called hero, in fact. The one you’ve grown up hearing about, the one they all worship. Don Yoto, the revered hero of the Rift Wars.” He spat the name as though it tasted foul. “But not the lie they told you in school. I’m talking about the real Yoto. A tyrant in sheep’s clothing.”

Valmet’s mouth went dry as his words sank in. “You want me… to kill Don Yoto?”

Huebert’s expression turned deadly serious, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If you truly want power, if you want revenge, you’ll have to kill him. He’s no hero, Valmet. He’s the enemy of every creature, every being who’s ever been wronged. The tales they fed you were lies—stories to keep people complacent while he rules.”

She swallowed hard, a shiver running down her spine. Huebert’s gaze was intense, a promise and a warning in equal measure. “And if I refuse?”

Huebert let out a slow laugh. “Oh, you can refuse. But where will you go? Who will help you understand your powers? Without my guidance, you’re just a lost little dead girl with nowhere to turn. Face it, Valmet—you’re in this. Whether you like it or not.”

He took a step back, extending a hand toward her, his expression a twisted mix of encouragement and command. “So… will you accept my offer? Or would you prefer another ride along the cliffs, pretending you’re still something you’re not?”

Valmet clenched her jaw, staring at his outstretched hand. She wanted to reject it, to storm off and never look back. But she knew he was right. Without him, she was lost. With a reluctant nod, she took his hand, feeling the chill of his grip settle into her bones.

Huebert grinned, triumphant. “Good choice. Let’s get to work, my little necromancer. We have a legend to kill.”

Huebert tilted his head, studying Valmet with an odd intensity as her anger and confusion slowly gave way to something else—something closer to vulnerability. For a brief moment, she looked less like the fierce girl who had faced monsters and more like someone lost in a world that had turned on her.

A faint smile softened Huebert’s usually mocking expression, and he sighed, almost as if speaking to himself. “You remind me of… a few I used to know. They were like you—caught in a place between worlds, unsure of what to believe.”

Valmet frowned, catching the shift in his tone. “What are you talking about?”

Instead of answering, Huebert raised his hand, his fingers weaving a complex pattern in the air. “When I was growing up in the old world, there was a trick all the young ones learned—a simple bit of magic, but it never failed to make the world seem a little brighter.”

With a snap of his fingers, he conjured a series of glowing sparks that flared into life above them, bright and vivid even against the daylight. They expanded, crackling softly, each one transforming into colorful fireworks that shimmered in the sky. The colors were impossibly vibrant—reds, blues, greens, and purples, as if the sky itself had caught fire with hues unknown in this world.

Valmet’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the beauty of it. She watched the sparks dance above her, her confusion momentarily forgotten as she took in the display. “They’re… beautiful,” she whispered.

Huebert chuckled softly, his voice losing its usual edge. “It’s a simple trick, really. But back then, it felt like magic. A reminder that even in darkness, there’s something worth seeing.”

The fireworks faded slowly, leaving trails of color that lingered in the air like whispers. For a moment, they stood in silence, the last sparks floating down around them before vanishing.

Valmet looked at Huebert, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. The anger was still there, but softened by something warmer. She felt a strange sense of trust, something she hadn’t expected.

With a quiet nod, she turned back to her bike, mounting it as the last trails of color faded from the sky. She glanced over her shoulder, and for the first time, Huebert’s usual mocking smile seemed almost genuine, a hint of camaraderie in his gaze.

“Don’t be late to school,” he called after her, his voice carrying a faint echo of amusement. “And remember, this world has more to show you than you might think.”