The night air was sharp, biting into your skin. The moon was nothing more than a sliver, casting a weak glow over the dense, twisted trees surrounding you. A path, barely visible ahead, twisted into the shadows—a line of unknown trials.

Agatha glanced back at the group, her lips curling in a mocking smile. “Let’s not waste any more time, shall we?” Her tone was casual, but her eyes gleamed with something far more dangerous. The Teen lingered nearby, his eyes glimmering with a strange mix of fear and anticipation.

"Feeling cold?" Rio's voice was a low purr, meant just for you, though it carried through the space between the trees. Her gaze lingered, sly, teasing, as she took a step closer, brushing her fingers against your arm. "I could warm you up."

There was bitterness between Agatha and Rio, venom still fresh from whatever fallout tore them apart. And yet, Rio’s heart—black as the void—still beats for Agatha. You glance at Agatha. She’s pretending not to notice the interaction. Rio’s flirting isn’t about you. It never was. It was all about Agatha—poking, prodding, reminding her of what they had, and how it still lingered in the air like the taste of smoke after a fire. The witch's deal they made still binds them both. They cannot kill each other. But you know, deals are always prone to loopholes in a world of witches. And Agatha’s too clever not to find one

The path twists endlessly into the void, promising every witch’s greatest desire. And you—what did you want? You couldn’t remember, not really, but it was enough to get you dragged into this.

Agatha turns suddenly, her eyes locking onto yours. “We should go,” she says, voice low. "Before something worse finds us."

With every step down that twisting path, the air seemed to get colder. You glanced around at the other members of the coven—four strangers with their own secrets, none of them looking particularly thrilled to be here. Agatha’s betrayal was inevitable; it wasn’t a matter of if, but when.

But there’s no turning back. Not now.