Kenzo pressed himself against the window, every muscle locked. The small creature crawled fully out of the bag now, its limbs bending the wrong way as it dragged itself forward. Its black eyes didn’t blink — they just stared straight at him.

The hooded woman whispered shakily, “If it knows your name… it’s already marked you.”

Kenzo’s voice cracked. “Why me? I didn’t take anything!”

But the creature tilted its head, its neck popping loudly, and repeated in that soft, broken voice:

“Kenzo.”

His blood froze. He hadn’t told anyone his name — not the driver, not the woman… no one.

The unseen thing beside him shifted, as though annoyed, growling low in the dark. The two creatures — the invisible one and the pale one — seemed aware of each other, like rivals.

The driver gripped the steering wheel. “There can’t be two. One of them followed the wrong person.”

The pale creature crawled closer, its fingers tapping along the floorboards like brittle bones.

Then it lifted one hand and pointed directly at Kenzo’s chest.

“You touched the mark.”

Kenzo stared back, confused, terrified… until he noticed something faint glowing beneath his shirt — a small symbol on his skin he had never seen before.

A symbol that wasn’t there yesterday.