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The rain fell like a slap against the world.
Violent, spiteful, alive. It struck the filthy walls, drowned the cobblestones in liquid reflections, and poured down shattered gutters like endless tears. Thunder growled in the distance, like a wounded beast crawling across the sky.
Marie stood in that narrow alley, her back pressed to the soaked wall, her wet curls stuck to her face. Her breath was short. In her trembling hand, something black and sharp glinted under the flickering streetlamp.
The crystal.
She stared at it like it was a living thing. Like a parasite embedded in her flesh. Hanging from a black chain, it throbbed gently, almost in time with her heartbeat. It seemed to breathe with her. A dark beat. A sick pulse.
Slowly, she raised her hand.
Her clenched fingers hovered above a storm drain. Water gurgled into it with a sucking sound. A tomb's mouth.
Levi saw it immediately from behind her.
"What are you doing?"
His voice was nothing more than a rasp. Deep. Roughened by rain. He had approached without a sound, his coat dripping, dark strands plastered to his forehead. His blade was still drawn—but he wasn't looking at it anymore. He was looking only at her.
Marie didn't answer.
Her lips trembled. Her eyes were red, swollen. She had cried—was still crying, maybe. He couldn't tell what ran down her cheeks anymore. Sky water, or something from her heart.
She whispered, voice pale:
"This thing's ruining my life."
She clenched the crystal in her palm so tightly the veins in her hand bulged.
"Ever since I got it, I've been hunted. Hated. I see things I don't understand. I dream of blood, of walls collapsing, of strangers screaming my name like I'm already dead."
Levi stopped just a step away from her. He said nothing.
She closed her eyes, arm still raised.
"I want it to die. Like everything else."
She was about to drop it.
But a hand appeared. Gloved, soaked, calloused. Levi grabbed her wrist and wrapped his fingers around hers.
