Walker and Ashley left the room again, this time to cross-check the evidence and retrace Myth's trail from the previous night.
But Myth wasn't worried. Even if they interrogated everyone at that inn and tracked down the anonymous man who had allegedly sent the photo—there would be nothing to find.
Sira was the only potential risk. If they questioned her about Sid Hayden, their suspicion might deepen. But even then, they'd be forced to follow through with the case. Sira had been Myth's childhood friend, but the two had never attended the same school. Myth had moved to central Aurvyn City years ago and only visited the villa during holidays or summer breaks.
Still, there was one looming problem.
If any other detectives recognized the faces in the photo—and if the person Myth had pointed to was still alive—then by giving him the name "Sid Hayden," Myth may have unknowingly painted a target on his back.
He hoped that day would never come.
After a while, Walker and Ashley returned for another round of questioning.
By 3 p.m., Myth was finally allowed to leave. But he wasn't free. Two plainclothes officers were assigned to keep him under observation at all times.
The sunlight slanted across the steps, golden and hot. Myth stepped out, flanked by two plainclothes officers.
Ashley stood near the squad car, arms folded, watching him.
She didn't say anything at first.
Just studied him like a puzzle she wasn't sure she wanted to solve.
Finally, she tilted her head slightly, her tone casual, but her eyes weren't.
"You know... you really are scary. I mean the way you lie—your heartbeat never changes. It's like you lie all the time."
Myth stopped beside her. He didn't smirk. Didn't gloat. He just looked at her.
"Have you considered… that I'm not lying?"
His voice was calm. Plain. Not defiant—worse. It was sincere.
Ashley blinked, thrown for just a second.
But only a second.
"I have. And that's the scariest part."Ashley said quietly
Myth didn't answer. He turned to head toward the car, the guards following.
But then Ashley called after him.
"Just one thing."
He paused.
"If tomorrow… anything goes wrong. If you're setting us up, or wasting our time while something burns in the background"
She stepped closer, voice low enough only he could hear.
"I won't wait for Walker. I'll be the one to put you down."
Myth looked at her. Not shaken. Not smug.
Just… quiet.
"Fair enough."
And then he got in the car.
Another battle waited ahead—one far more personal. Far more emotional.
Myth was drained. Absolutely worn thin.
He'd driven nearly 10 to 12 hours straight to reach Ashfall. He hadn't slept. Hadn't eaten. His mind had been running all night, assembling and reassembling his story, threading every lie with surgical precision. Then came the interrogation, the endless tension, the half-truths he had to defend with a straight face.
Now came the another challenge—Sira.
And not just to explain. No, he'd have to handle her. Manipulate her.
Because no matter how much he trusted her as a friend, there was absolutely no way he could trust her with the full truth—not about Sid, and definitely not about the photo.
Sira was kind. Loyal. But when it came to secrets… she was a walking disaster.
Myth had known her since they were kids. She couldn't bluff to save her life. Even a little pressure, and she'd spill everything.
He'd have to craft a version of the story—just enough about Sid Hayden and the portal incident to satisfy any detective's questions. Enough for it to sound real. Enough for her to believe it.
But not enough to ruin everything if she let something slip.
He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the silence of the car settle over him like a fog.
Myth reached the inn where he and Sira were staying. Two men in plain clothes followed quietly behind him—his unwanted shadows for the day. He stopped in front of Sira's door and knocked twice.
The door opened a second later.
Sira stood there, her expression cold. Her gaze shifted past Myth and locked onto the men behind him.
"Who are they?"
Her voice was flat—none of her usual warmth. Just a quiet rage barely held back.
"Ahh… it's a long story. Can we talk inside?" Myth said, tone soft, almost cautious.
Sira didn't respond. Her eyes lingered on the two men again.
"You guys will stay outside, right?" Myth turned his head slightly.
Both men gave curt nods. No words
Sira stepped aside silently, just enough for Myth to squeeze through. As he sat down on the edge of the bed—
Thud!
The door slammed shut behind him.
Myth flinched. He looked back. Sira had locked the door and now turned toward him.
And she was furious.
She crossed the room in heavy steps.
"Myth!" she burst.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was?! While you were out having the time of your life with some bimbo, I was up all night wondering if you'd gotten yourself killed! You couldn't send one message?! One call?! Nothing?"
Myth blinked, confused for half a second—then it hit him.
He'd used Ashley's phone this morning.The call must've shown her name.
Damn.
He tried cutting in.
"Sira—"
"No! Don't 'Sira' me!" she snapped.
He raised his hand to defend—but she just got louder.
"You disappear for a whole night, and then show up with people behind you and a phone call from some random girl? What the hell am I supposed to think?"
Myth shut up. There was no point. She wasn't ready to listen.
Only after a minute or so, her volume dipped. The fire in her voice began to flicker out.
That's when Myth saw his opening.
He leaned forward slightly, voice calm but serious.
"I wasn't with anyone. I'll tell you everything I can. Just… please, listen first."
Sira stood still, arms folded tightly across her chest, breathing heavy from her earlier outburst. But she didn't interrupt.
"Do you remember my friend from central Aurvyn City? Sid Hayden?" Myth asked cautiously.
Confusion flickered across Sira's face.
"When exactly was he your friend?"
"Back when I was eight. We used to hang out during my stay in the city. I probably never mentioned him to you."
Myth didn't give her a chance to press further.
"He had brown hair, brown eyes. You probably don't remember."
He watched her, gauging her reaction—but pressed on before she could question the cracks.
"A few days ago, I received a photo from someone anonymous. It was... strange. It was a photo of Sid, the anonymous person told me to go to police, so is did go to police, turns out the other person in the photo was late Detective Ryan Reed—the same Reed from the portal incident."
Sira's eyes widened slightly.
"But here's the catch," Myth said, his tone tightening. "There's no record of Sid. No one remembers him. No files, no ID, nothing. It's like he never existed."
He paused, letting the weight of that sink in.
Sira remained quiet, visibly processing.
"The portal incident... it was sabotage. A cover-up. But there were no leads—until now. I told them I knew Sid Hayden. Someone else who worked at the facility remembers him too. That gives the detectives a reason to dig again."
He met her eyes.
"All we have to do is cooperate. Just follow the story. Help them get to the bottom of it. This could uncover the truth about what really happened."
Sira was silent for a few seconds, then finally spoke—soft, but firm.
"Myth... this sounds dangerous. These people—whoever they are behind the portal mess—they won't be small fish."
"I know."
Myth exhaled.
"But it's not like I can back out now. I already gave them the photo."
Myth leaned against the wall and Sira sat next to him.
Sira didn't respond, just kept looking at him—less angry now, more concerned. They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of everything hanging thick in the air.
After some more discussion about the incident—about Sid, the detectives, the risks—Myth could feel himself reaching the limit. His voice was slower, his thoughts duller.
He was utterly exhausted.
His body ached from the lack of sleep. His mind felt like it was dragging itself through sludge. All he wanted now was to eat something and collapse.
"Can we order something?" he muttered, head resting back against the wall. "I'm starving."
Sira nodded, silently grabbing the room's menu tablet. By the time lunch arrived, she'd cooled off completely, her earlier fury now replaced with quiet concern. The food helped them both settle, even if Myth barely tasted any of it.
There was, however, one last thing he needed to make absolutely sure of.
Something critical.
Before he could rest, before he could even let his guard down, he had to hammer it into Sira's head:
"Sira," he said, setting his fork down.
"Listen carefully. If anyone—I mean anyone—asks you about your power… you say nothing. Got it?"
She blinked.
"Even if they threaten someone. Even if they pretend to be friendly. Even if they ask you tricky questions. Don't say a word."
His voice was low, but sharp enough to slice through the room.
"You're not good at lying. So don't try. Just say 'no comment.' Or say you don't know what they're talking about. But don't reveal anything. I don't need to remind you about the dangers of you..... "
Sira stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. I won't."
Myth finally leaned back again.
Now… he could finally rest.