In Italy, within a remote region known as Cascata dell'Aquila.
A vast forest stretched endlessly in every direction, thick with towering trees whose leaves had turned shades of gold, crimson, and deep orange. Autumn had fully claimed this land. The ground beneath their feet was no longer soil, but a dense carpet of fallen leaves, soft yet treacherous, muffling every step they took.
Indigo walked at the front, his presence calm and unwavering.
Behind him followed Angelica, accompanied by two of her subordinates. Their steps were cautious, eyes darting around the forest as if expecting death itself to emerge from between the trees.
Angelica kept her eyes closed as she walked, her expression serene yet tense, as if she were listening not with her sight, but with her soul.
"Where are you taking us…"
she asked softly, her voice barely louder than the rustling leaves.
"To the place of death."
The moment Indigo uttered those words, Angelica's breath caught for a split second.
