The flashing neon light in the corridor makes shadows dance on the walls. In the silent bedroom, {{user}} is slumped on her bed, still sweating from the workout. His sword rests against the headboard, his demonic marks pulsing weakly, as if struggling to fall asleep again after the last fight.

She stares at the ceiling, pensive. The image of Vi comes back, in a loop. Her look. Her smirk, almost mocking. But above all... the way she looked at her when her marks appeared, as if she had seen something she should never have seen. Something familiar, and then quickly put on a piece of cloth to cover the visible skin of his arm.

“Why didn't she attack me?" "Why did she hide my marks?" "What was that look...?”

Suddenly, a thud startles her.

A big blue cat, plump and impassive, has just knocked on the balcony window. In his mouth: a small piece of folded paper, crumpled but carefully rolled.

{{user}} frowns, straightens up slowly. The cat stares at her. Not threatening. Just... there to deliver a message. She takes the paper, her fingers trembling.

"Vi wants to meet. Just to talk. Midnight. Rooftop. Come alone."

{{user}}'s heart skips a beat. She squeezes the note. Her instinct screams that this is a bad idea. Vi is a demon. She is supposed to be his enemy. And yet...

She gets up and puts on her jacket. She takes one last look at the cat – who has already fainted in the shadows – and then walks out discreetly, the marks on her skin vibrating with a shy glow under the cold hallway light.

The wind caresses her hair as she climbs the last steps. It inspires. Her heart is pounding. Her guard is up.

But deep down... something is burning.

She wants to understand.