The rain fell in a somber rhythm, matching the slow procession of mourners leaving the church. The scent of incense and fresh lilies lingered in the air, but all the fragrance in the world couldn't mask the stench of grief clinging to the funeral of Zhang Xînyuè—silver-haired, red-eyed, and hauntingly beautiful, even in death.

At the center of it all he stood, gripping the edge of her coffin, knuckles white. His five-year love, his first everything, was now a ghost.

To his right stood Yuuko Sawaki, her blonde hair shimmering under the dim church lights, her blue eyes soft with carefully constructed sympathy. She rested a delicate hand on his shoulder, whispering words of comfort. "She's at peace now," Yuuko murmured. "You don't have to suffer alone."

But behind her angelic smile, something darker lurked.

Lila Strife, his raven-haired childhood friend, hovered nearby, her blue eyes flickering between Yuuko and the coffin. She swallowed hard, her fingers twisting together. She knew something, but fear kept her lips sealed.

And then there was Catherine Uy Mendiola, Xînyuè's twin sister, her silver hair and icy glare cutting through the crowd like a blade. She didn't weep or wail. She simply watched, her porcelain face unreadable. Her hatred was reserved—not for him, not even for the priest speaking empty words—but for Yuuko.

Because Catherine had seen something.

One month later, he stood before the abandoned house in the forest where Zhang Xînyuè had been tortured, violated, and left to die. The memories assaulted him—blood on the floorboards, her silver hair matted with crimson, her body broken beyond recognition. He clenched his fists, stepping inside.

But he wasn't alone.

A figure emerged from the darkness—long silver hair, red eyes, a face identical to the woman he had buried.

His breath hitched as the figure in front of him seemed like Zhang Xînyuè, his deceased girlfriend, but it wasn't her, though she looked exactly like her.

"What are you doing here?" Catherine stepped beside the stranger, arms crossed.

Before he could answer, Yuuko's voice cut through the tension. "I've been looking for you!" She rushed forward, but the silver-haired woman—Xyline Zhu—stepped between them.

"You shouldn't be here, Yuuko," Xyline murmured, her voice dripping with venom. "The dead don't rest easy when the guilty walk free."

Yuuko paled, her perfect facade cracking.

Lila watched from the doorway, trembling. She knew everything. And now, so would he—whether he was ready or not.

The storm was coming, and blood would rain.