[Ren Hilton's POV]
Year: 1738
Date: 3rd
Month: Embera
Time: 4:00 AM
"Huh?" I felt quite confused as I watched Aron hastily leaving the room.
"What happened?" I spoke as I tried to adjust my posture. I couldn't recall much about what had transpired, but I was certain I had been on the brink of death. Though, I didn't believe I had succumbed to it, but the wound I felt was undeniably deep.
Silence permeated the room, casting an awkward atmosphere.
"Umm... Smokeball?" I called out tentatively, feeling somewhat uncomfortable under the cat's unrelenting gaze. He had been staring at me for quite a while, and it was starting to feel strange.
I waved my hand in front of Smokeball's eyes, but he continued to stare at me without blinking. It was as if he had something important to convey but couldn't find the words.
"Are you going to say anything? Don't make me—" I began to speak before Smokeball's voice resonated in my mind.
