After navigating her unfamiliar surroundings, Arabe realized she was not as alone in the room as she had thought. She clutched one of the pirs, taking cover behind it as she heard voices.


    “Sandro,” Arabe murmured, a frown creasing her face. It sounded remarkably like him, but she couldn’t be certain. Besides, she wondered if her sudden transportation here was anything like what had happened to Her, ze, Sandro, and Alessia back at Ascotan.


    “No, it’s different,” she muttered, shaking her head. risse had mentioned that they were experiencing events from a hundred years ago firsthand.


    Arabe let out a breath, her eyes narrowing as she waited for the approaching figures to reveal themselves. As the footsteps drew nearer, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Instinctively, her hand shot to cover her mouth. She gasped into her hands, her eyes widening as she turned to see who it was.


    “risse,” she hissed, ring. “You scared me.”


    “I’m sorry,” risse muttered.Còntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    Arabe nced behind her, but Sandro was nowhere in sight.


    “Don’t worry. He’s somewhere nearby. He needs to understand what’s happening before he joins you,” risse reassured.


    “I’m not worried,” Arabe stated. If anything, she was relieved he wasn’t with her at this very moment.


    “So, why am I here? What should I know?” she asked risse.


    Just then, a man approached them. Arabe darted around, ducking behind another pir, causing risse to chuckle.


    “It’s fine. He can’t see you. No one can,” risse assured. “Just think of this as being in their minds and witnessing how it all began.”


    Arabe wasn’t entirely sure if she could trust risse. The menacing-looking spear in the man’s handpelled her to remain hidden. She didn’t want to take risse’s word, emerge from her hiding spot, and ultimately regret it.


    “Alpha,” a voice said, apanied by another set of footsteps.


    The man who had been walking earlier came to a halt, prompting Arabe to peek out from her hiding ce, seizing the opportunity to scrutinize who the alpha was and who had addressed him.


    “Sandro,” she said for the second time, this time in genuine surprise.


    The man looked uncannily like Sandro-no, scratch that-he was Sandro in the flesh. His piercing green eyes, proud aquiline nose, strong physique, and tousled hair were all unmistakably Sandro’s. He possessed a chiseled jawline that could give Adonis a run for his money, and the way he smirked… Damn it, why on earth was she staring at another Sandro?


    “He’s Alessandro Ro De Luca the first. The first of his name and the person from whom the sin originated in the De Luca household,” risse exined.


    “He looks just like Sandro,” Arabe marveled. She’d noticed how she and Alessia bore a striking resemnce. Yet, anyone who truly knew them could easily tell them apart. It wasn’t just about their style or the way they carried themselves.


    But this man she was gazing at, she could hardly discern any significant difference between him and Sandro. They acted alike and looked alike, and perhaps, if Sandro were in this timeline as well, he would dress in the same manner. Alessandro, the first, was d in a breech, waistcoat, and coat, whereas the Sandro she was familiar with was much more contemporary in his attire.


    “What is it?” Alessandro the first asked, his gaze fixed on the person who had called him.


    Arabe guessed he was a guard.


    “You sent for me,” the guard stated.


    “Ah, yes. Eric, isn’t it?” Alessandro, the first inquired.


    “Yes, it is,” Eric affirmed with a nod, his head still bowed.


    “Gather your finest warrior. We are paying them a visit today, and we need to bring the Rose with us,” hemanded.


    “A-Alpha,” Eric stammered, visible tremors in his features. “Thest time I heard, they were infiltrated. Everyone who went there was killed. She’s the most powerful being ever, Alpha. No one can approach her without forfeiting their life.”


    “I am the alpha,” Alessandro the first snarled. “And whatever order I give shall be obeyed. Would amon whore possess more power than I do? I reign over Ascotan and its environs!”


    “But Alpha…” Eric attempted to interject.


    However, Alessandro, the first, cut him off. “Unless you’re ready to forfeit your life this very moment, you will obey me.”


    “I’ll do as you say. I’ll assemble the finest warrior, Alpha,” Eric conceded, scrambling to his feet.


    A sinister smile crept onto Alessandro the first’s face as he observed Eric dart away.


    “That’s more like it. This is your final day, whore,” he dered before stepping away.


    Arabe turned to risse, her brow furrowed. “What is happening? And who is he going to infiltrate?”


    “Keep watching,” risse advised, her tone just as mysterious as before. Arabe would have preferred hearing the story rather than experiencing it. She didn’t like the direction the narrative was taking, and for the first time, she wished Sandro hadn’t interrupted and had simply trusted risse.


    “So…” Arabe began, but when she turned around, risse was no longer with her.


    Walking towards where Alessandro the first had gone, she discovered it was another chamber. More like a dungeon, really. She winced, clutching herself as she felt the echoes of the many people who had met their end within these walls. All their pain, tears, anger, and regrets surged into her at once as she stepped into the room.


    Arabe stumbled, her head now pounding. She shouldn’t be feeling anything here. risse had told her they wouldn’t be able to see her, but she hadn’t mentioned that she might still feel something. She wondered if risse had omitted that detail on purpose.


    “Arabe,” a voice called out. It was so loud it felt like it might shatter her eardrums.


    “Stop,” she murmured, her eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched.


    “Why?” a spectral voice responded. “Why should we?”


    “Please, stop,” Arabe cried.


    “You caused this. You were selfish and never understood our pain. You were so power-hungry and made us suffer for centuries, so now you are going to pay for everything that happened!” the voice proimed. It was as if many voices were speaking as one.


    “Stop!” Arabe growled, her hands pressed tightly against her ears.


    For a few seconds, the room fell silent, and the only sound was the gentle breeze drifting through.


    Arabe opened her eyes and saw a figure standing before her. It was a woman d in a bloodied nightgown. Her head seemed almost detached from her neck, and a sinister grin stretched across her battered face- if one could even call it that.


    “Who are you?” Arabe inquired.


    “I am you, dear child, and you are me,” the woman replied.


    “No,” Arabe shook her head.


    “Come with me,” she beckoned with a wave of her hand.


    With feet that seemed to move on their own, Arabe found herself following the mysterious woman.