**Alya** The rain had been falling since afternoon, but not a single drop touched the ground. Alya realized it while standing beneath a streetlamp, waiting for a taxi that never came. The drops hung in the air like shards of glass, glittering between the skyscrapers of Arcapolis. The people around her didn't notice anything strange. They ran with bags over their heads. Some complained that the city's transportation network was down. One man even raised his phone to photograph the sky, but his camera displayed nothing but a black screen. Alya didn't run with them. She was too exhausted to be afraid. Her phone vibrated. It was Arcapolis Central Hospital. Her chest immediately tightened. “Hello?” “Is this Sis Alya?” The voice on the other end sounded cautious. “We need to inform you that Raka's condition—” “Don't,” Alya cut in. She closed her eyes. “Don't tell me Raka's condition is getting worse. I'm on my way.” “The doctor needs family consent for an emergency procedure.” “Do whatever it takes.” “A specialized transfusion is also necessary, but—” “Do whatever is necessary!” Alya's voice shattered the night air. Several people turned to look, then quickly went back to their own business. No one cared about an older sister trying to keep her younger brother alive. “I'm sorry, Sis,” the nurse said. “We've tried every standard procedure. But Raka's illness isn't responding to treatment.” Illness? Alya almost laughed. No doctor had been able to explain Raka's illness. None of the test results made any sense. It always ended with the same sentence: We've never seen a case like this. Raka had only had a fever for two days. Then his skin began to freeze. Not pale. Not cold like someone with a fever. Freeze. His fingertips turned transparent like ice. Bluish lines spread from his palms toward his chest. Every night, his body temperature dropped several degrees, even though his heart was still beating. The doctors called it a metabolic anomaly. Alya called it a curse. Because three nights ago, she had seen something standing in the corner of Raka's room. Something tall, thin, and faceless. The creature had whispered to Raka in a language Alya had never heard, yet somehow she understood it. Your time is almost up. “I'll be there in ten minutes,” Alya said. “Please don't leave him alone.” She hung up. The rain was still suspended in the air. Alya looked up. Between the black clouds, a pale circle of light was visible, like a moon trapped behind glass. She had seen strange things ever since she was a child. Shadows that moved on their own. Doorways appearing in blank walls. People with no reflections in store windows. Her mother had always said it was just her imagination. Raka used to laugh at her too. But now, with Raka lying in the hospital and her mother dead for eight years, Alya had no one left to convince her that the world still made sense. A black car stopped in front of her. Not a taxi. Its window rolled down slowly. A man sat in the back seat. His hair was black, slightly wet at the tips, as though the rain suspended in the air had chosen to touch only him. His face was handsome in a way that made Alya uncomfortable—too perfect, too calm, too far removed from ordinary humanity. His eyes were silver-gray. “Get in,” he said. Alya took one step back. “I don't know you.” “Your name is Alya Prameswari. You're on your way to Arcapolis Central Hospital. Your younger brother, Raka, needs a specialized blood transfusion. If you arrive without that blood, he'll die before midnight.” Alya stared at him. Her heart pounded. “Who are you?” “My name is Kael.” “Kael who?” “Kael Arveth.” The name was unfamiliar. Yet something inside her trembled when she heard it. As if she had read that name somewhere before. Kael opened the car door. “I can save your brother.” Alya should have walked away. She knew that. A stranger who knew the details of Raka's illness was never a good sign. He could be a kidnapper, a con artist, or someone with even worse intentions. But the hospital was twenty minutes away in normal traffic. That night, every major road in Arcapolis was packed with stopped vehicles. Traffic lights blinked erratically. The sky looked as if it were about to collapse. “How?” Alya asked. “With a pact.” The word changed the air around Alya. The raindrops began to move again. One by one, they fell onto the asphalt, making a steady, frightening sound. “I'm not selling my soul,” Alya said. Kael stared at her without blinking. “I didn't ask for your soul.” “Then what?” “Your memories.” Alya almost smiled nervously. “What?” “Every pact requires a price. To heal your brother, you must surrender one year of your happy memories.” “Happy memories?” “One memory for each year.” Alya studied Kael's face, searching for any sign that he was joking. There was none. “How long?” “Raka will live as long as the contract remains in effect.” “And how long will the contract last?” “Ten years.” Ten years. One hundred twenty months. Ten memories. Alya thought of every happy thing she still had. Her mother's smile before she died. The night Raka called her Sis for the first time. Their short trip to the beach, back when their savings hadn't been drained by hospital bills. If all of that had to disappear for Raka's sake, maybe the price wasn't too high. “Why are you helping me?” “Because I can.” “That isn't an answer.” “For tonight, it's enough.” Alya clenched her fists. “If I go with you, will Raka get better?” “Yes.” “No trap?” “There will definitely be a trap.” The answer was too honest. Kael continued, “But not where you think.” A siren sounded in the distance. The city lights blinked in unison. For a moment, all of Arcapolis went dark. In that darkness, Alya saw them. Hundreds of figures stood between the buildings. Some had black wings. Some had bodies shrouded in blue fire. Some stood with their heads upside down. All of them faced her. All of them were waiting. Then the city lights came back on. They were gone. Alya held her breath. Kael was still watching her. “You saw them,” he said. “I don't know what I saw.” “You've known since you were a child.” Alya swallowed. “What if I refuse?” “Raka dies.” “And if I accept?” “Raka lives. But someday, you may wish he had never been saved.” Alya opened the car door. “Then I'll regret it later.” She got in. The car smelled strange—like old wood, rain, and something cold. There was no driver. The car began moving on its own as soon as the door closed. Kael sat beside her, with a considerable distance between them. Alya watched the streets streak past outside the window. The buildings of Arcapolis became lines of light. The car's speed was unnatural, but none of the other vehicles seemed to notice. “How do we make the pact?” she asked. Kael held out his hand. A thin, circular wound marked his palm. Black blood seeped from it. “Touch my hand and say your name.” Alya hesitated. “No paperwork?” “Paperwork is for humans.” “And you're not human.” “No.” “Then what are you?” Kael stared straight ahead. “I used to be human.” For some reason, that answer frightened Alya more than if Kael had admitted he was a monster. She touched his hand. His skin was ice-cold. The moment their fingers touched, the sounds of the city vanished. Alya could no longer hear the engine, the rain, or even her own breathing. She saw a vast room filled with candles. A young man knelt on the stone floor. His face was identical to Kael's, but his eyes still held warmth. A woman wearing a silver crown stood before him. She drove a sword into Kael's chest. Not to kill him. To bind him. “Starting tonight, you will live forever,” the woman said. “And you will lose everything that makes life worth living.” The vision vanished. Alya jerked back and pulled her hand away. Kael turned to her. For the first time, his expression changed. There was fear on his face. “You shouldn't have seen that.” “What happened to you?” “Say your name.” “I saw—” “Say your name, Alya.” His tone was harsher. Alya looked at him. “Alya Prameswari.” The wound in Kael's palm split open. Black blood spread across Alya's skin, forming a mark like a cracked crown. Something screamed in the distance. Not outside the car. Inside her head. Kael grabbed Alya's wrist. “Starting tonight,” he said, “your brother's life is bound to yours.” The mark lit up. “And every year, one of your happy memories will become mine.” Alya felt a stabbing pain in her chest. “I agree,” she whispered. Kael lowered his head, as if he had heard something he didn't want to hear. “It's not finished.” “What?” “This contract has one final condition.” “What condition?” Kael looked at her. Behind his cold eyes lay a sorrow older than time. “If you fall in love with me, Alya Prameswari…” The car stopped abruptly. Ahead of them, Arcapolis's highway ended at a colossal wall of light. Beyond it stood dark towers that had never existed in any city. Kael tightened his grip on her hand. “…you will die.” At that same moment, in the hospital, Raka's heart monitor began beeping again. The first beat. The second beat. For the first time in three days, his body temperature rose. But on Alya's chest, the cracked crown mark began spreading like black roots. Beyond the wall of light, something was waiting for their arrival. Something calling Alya's name as though it had known her for centuries.