We decided to land near the crying kitten. It was there, curled up, its small trembling paws overwhelmed by silent terror. Its sobs echoed in the heavy air.

“Hey, little one, are you okay? Did you get lost?” I asked gently, kneeling at its level.

The kitten looked up at me with tear-filled eyes, hiccupping between sobs:

“B-black… D-destroyed… M-mom…”

Its words were broken by crying, and its panic made it difficult to understand what it was saying.

Kumo, visibly irritated, lost his patience. “Spit it out, will you, nya?!” he snapped, a bit too brusquely.

“Kumo!” I shot him a reproachful look, my brows furrowed, as if to tell him to show more understanding. Caught off guard, he averted his gaze, realizing his mistake, his annoyed expression betraying a hint of shame.

I turned back to the kitten, keeping my tone soothing:

“Calm down, little one. We’re here, everything will be okay. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

The kitten sniffled before stammering:

“I-it’s the village… chaos… The tree turned black, and thorns started growing everywhere. Everything is destroyed… I lost my mom…”

It broke down into sobs again, its small shoulders shaking with the weight of its tears.

“The tree turned black? By dried fish, Yui, this is really bad news!” Kumo exclaimed, beginning to fidget, his ears standing alert.

I looked at him, puzzled and worried.

“What’s going on, Kumo? I don’t understand—what’s the problem with this tree?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes widening with anxiety.

“If it’s what I think… The Millennium Tree is affected.”

“The Millennium Tree?” I repeated, confused.

Kumo nodded quickly.

“It’s the tree that maintains balance and peace in this world. If something happens to it… Mom…” His voice broke slightly at the mention of his mother, revealing a vulnerability I hadn’t seen in him before.

Seeing both Kumo and the kitten in such distress heightened my tension. I still didn’t fully grasp the gravity of the situation, but I was beginning to understand that we were facing something far more significant.

“Don’t worry, Kumo, everything will be fine.” I tried to reassure him, though I wasn’t sure of my own words.

I then turned to the kitten, offering a soft smile.

“Don’t worry, little one, we’ll take you back to your mom. Okay?”

It nodded weakly and took the hand I offered.

“And now, Yui, what are we going to do?” Kumo asked, uncertain.

I sighed softly, sharing his hesitation.

“I don’t know, Kumo… But first, let’s get this little one back to its mom. Then we’ll see what’s happening.”

The three of us climbed aboard the Neko-vent, which took off quickly. Guided by the blue butterfly, we flew over villages plunged into chaos.

The sight before us was nightmarish. Where there had once been peaceful houses and blooming fields, everything was now destruction. Collapsed roofs, black thorns entangled around buildings, roads distorted by invasive vegetation. Villagers ran in all directions, crying for help—some fleeing with children in their arms, others trying to save what they could from their burning homes.

“My God…” I murmured, horrified. I could still remember the tranquility of the villages Kumo and I had passed through not so long ago. Now, everything was ruin and despair.

After a long flight, we finally spotted a gigantic tree towering above the rest, its summit piercing the sky—the Millennium Tree. But instead of the majestic grandeur one might expect, it was dark, its bark black as coal. Thick, twisted thorns coiled around its trunk, as if sucking the life out of it.

“Mom!” cried the kitten, pointing to a cat below, visibly panicked, searching the crowd of villagers.

We landed quickly, and the kitten dashed toward its mother, shouting.

“Mom! Mom!”

She caught it in her arms, tears streaming down her face.

“My darling! You’re safe! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

The kitten, still shaken, murmured:
“It was the girl and… and the big one who helped me, Mom!”

Kumo, visibly offended, hissed in frustration.

“The big one?!” he exclaimed, outraged.

The mother, ignoring her son’s comment, turned to me with gratitude.

“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to him.”

“You’re welcome. But… what’s happening here?” I asked, still shocked by what I had seen.

She nodded sadly.

“It’s the Millennium Tree. The prophecy has come true… The tree has lost its life.”

Kumo sighed heavily, as if he had feared this moment all his life.

“That’s what I thought, nya…”

The cat continued: “Right now, several villagers are trying to retrieve the life stone from the chapel. But no one has managed to open the doors yet. The chosen one hasn’t appeared.”

I was lost. Just earlier, we had been living in peaceful ignorance, unaware that such a disaster was looming. What were we supposed to do?

“What are we going to do, Kumo?” I asked, searching for direction, a plan.

The cat looked at us gravely.

“You should seek shelter while you can. Thank you again for bringing my son back. Take care of yourselves.”

She hurried away, holding her kitten tightly, while all around us the village descended further into chaos. Thorns erupted from the ground, distorting the streets, and villagers ran in all directions, desperately searching for refuge.

I looked at Kumo with uncertainty.

“The Millennium Tree… Let’s go see it.”

Kumo nodded silently, and we began running against the flow of fleeing villagers, toward the source of the calamity.

The Millennium Tree was gigantic. Its roots burrowed deep into the earth, testaments to centuries of life, but it now seemed as ancient as the world itself. Its bark, once vibrant and colorful, was black and cracked. Thick, venomous-looking thorns rose around it like deadly snakes. Everything about it radiated death and desolation.

I trembled slightly as I stared at it.

“How could such a thing happen… How…?”

As we stood frozen by the sight, a group of cats rushed past us.

“Hurry! The chosen one could be anyone among us! There’s no time to waste!” shouted the leader of the group.

“The chosen one…?” I murmured aloud.

Kumo nodded. “They must be heading to the chapel that lady mentioned, nya. Let’s follow them.”

We started following the villagers. Not far away stood a chapel, surrounded by massive thorns blocking the entrance, as if waiting for the chosen one to open it.

As we approached, a strange light emanated from the center of the sealed doors, as if something—or someone—was calling to them. An inexplicable force seemed to vibrate in the air, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Yui… Do you feel that?” Kumo asked.

I nodded, confused. Something powerful was approaching. Was it us? Or someone else?

The plaza was crowded with cats, each one waiting for their turn in an increasingly tense atmosphere. Kumo, always the pragmatist, decided we should try our luck as well and headed straight for the line.

“You really want to try too?” I asked, perplexed.

“Whoever doesn’t try, doesn’t get their kibble!” he replied, a playful grin on his face.

One by one, the cats stepped forward toward the altar, but the thorny vines protecting the entrance didn’t budge. The murmurs of impatience grew louder in the crowd, and a few frustrated cats decided to force their way through.

“You mouse-brained fools! What are you doing? Are you trying to doom us all?” shouted a black cat with bristling fur.

“We’re wasting time here! If we don’t do something, we’ll all end up as canned food!” retorted another as he attempted once more to push his way through.

The thorns, reacting to the commotion, suddenly tightened around the entrance, violently ejecting the unfortunate ones who had dared to try. The situation grew increasingly chaotic, and the shouts grew more strident. Despite the commotion, the line continued to move forward, slowly but steadily.

It was almost Kumo’s turn. I waited anxiously at the base of the stairs, watching with apprehension as he approached the altar. When he returned, his ears drooping and a disappointed look on his face, I immediately understood that the doors hadn’t moved an inch.

“Kumo…”

“Maybe I should have tried saying ‘purr-open sesame’?” he said, forcing a smile in an attempt to hide his frustration.

I couldn’t help but sigh. He always seemed to find a way to joke, even in the most critical situations.

“So, what do we do now?” I asked hesitantly.

“What do you mean? You’re not going to try your luck?”

“Huh? What are you talking about? I’m not even a cat!”

“So what? Who says the prophecy is about a cat, huh? It never mentioned whiskers or a tail. It could just as easily be you—or even a dried sardine!” he joked, twitching his whiskers.

“That’s ridiculous!” I protested, but I didn’t have the strength to argue.

Kumo gently grabbed my arm and began to lead me toward the doors. Embarrassed, I tried to resist.

“Kumo! Stop this!” I protested, a hint of panic rising in my voice.

“As I said, whoever doesn’t try doesn’t get their kibble! Nya!”