She exchanged a glance with Hyowon.
Turning back to the man, she asked, "Then… what happened to her?"
The man's expression darkened. "She, too, sought to end this curse. She searched for the forsaken key, just as you are now." His voice grew heavy. "But the village… it does not let go so easily."
Minsu swallowed hard. "Did she die?"
The man hesitated before answering. "No one knows. She vanished. Some say she failed. Others say she became something else—something tied to this place forever."
A cold shiver ran down her spine. Had she seen her? The figure in the mist, the presence that whispered her name—could it have been her?
Hyowon stepped forward, his voice steady. "Then we'll do what she couldn't. We'll find the key and break this curse."
The man's gaze lingered on him for a moment before he finally nodded. "Then you must go. But be warned—there are eyes everywhere. And if they sense what you are trying to do…" He trailed off, his meaning clear.
They wouldn't let them leave alive.
Minsu clenched her fists. "Then we move now."
The man gestured toward the door. "Follow the river beyond the forest. When you see the withered willow, you will know you are close."
Minsu and Hyowon stepped into the cold night, their footsteps barely making a sound as they followed the man's directions. The village was eerily silent, as if it were holding its breath, waiting for something unseen to stir.
The river's faint trickling guided them through the dense trees. Shadows stretched across the ground, twisting unnaturally in the dim moonlight.
Hyowon kept close beside her, his hand occasionally brushing against hers—a silent reassurance. "Are you sure about this?" he whispered.
Minsu swallowed. "I have to be."
They walked for what felt like an eternity before a gnarled, withered willow came into view. Its branches hung low, almost touching the ground, swaying gently despite the absence of wind. The sight made Minsu's stomach churn with unease.
"This is it," she murmured.
Beneath the tree, half-buried in the earth, lay a small stone marker covered in moss. It was old, but the engraved words were still visible:
"To those who were never meant to return."
Hyowon crouched down, brushing dirt away. "This is a grave," he said quietly.
Minsu felt a lump in her throat. "Not just any grave. It's a warning."
Before she could say more, a soft rustling filled the air. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
Something was watching them.
Hyowon tensed. "We're not alone."
A sudden gust of wind sent the willow's branches thrashing. And then—
A voice, distant yet unmistakable, whispered through the night again.
"You should not have come."
Minsu's breath hitched. The voice carried an eerie familiarity, yet it was laced with something unnatural, something wrong.
Hyowon shot to his feet, his eyes scanning the darkness. "Who's there?" His voice was steady, but Minsu could sense the tension in it.
The willow branches swayed violently, though the air remained still. Then, just beyond the marker, the shadows thickened—shifting, twisting—until a figure stepped forward.
A man.
Minsu's heart pounded. It was him. The man who looked just like her.
His face was pale under the moonlight, his eyes dark pools of something unreadable. But what sent chills down Minsu's spine was the way he looked at her. Not with surprise. Not with curiosity.
But recognition.
"You found it," the man said softly, his gaze flicking to the stone marker. "But you are not ready for what comes next."
Minsu forced herself to speak. "Who are you?"
The man tilted his head slightly, as if the question amused him. "That is not the right question."
Hyowon stepped in front of Minsu protectively. "Then tell us what the right question is."
The man's lips curled into a ghost of a smile. "Why was your name on the list?"
Minsu's blood turned cold.
Before she could respond, the ground beneath them trembled, and the shadows around the tree deepened. The whispers in the wind grew louder.
And then—
The world around them vanished into darkness.