Amure had always been perceptive, but something had changed. In the last few weeks, she had noticed a shift in Rede's behavior—subtle, almost imperceptible, but there. The cat was always watching her, its eyes following her every move with an intensity that made Amure uneasy. There was something unnerving about the way Rede would sit, perfectly still, observing her as if it knew more than it was letting on.
Amure shrugged it off at first, convincing herself that it was just her imagination. But the feeling persisted, growing stronger with each passing day. She couldn't shake the sensation that something was off, that Rede was more than just a cat. And yet, she dismissed the thought as ridiculous—after all, it was just a cat. But still, doubt lingered at the back of her mind, nagging at her like an itch she couldn't scratch.
One evening, as Amure sat on her couch, flipping through a book, Rede jumped onto her lap, its green eyes locking onto hers. There was a moment of tension as they stared at each other, and Amure felt a strange chill run down her spine. Something was wrong—she could feel it. But what?
"You're just a cat, right?" Amure asked softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. She stroked Rede's fur absentmindedly, but her mind was racing. The question hung in the air, unanswered, as Rede continued to gaze at her with an unsettling intensity.
Amure shook her head, trying to dispel the strange thoughts swirling in her mind. She was being ridiculous. Rede was just a cat—a stray she had taken in out of pity. There was nothing more to it. And yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something she was missing, something important.
Over the next few days, Amure's suspicions grew. She began to test Rede, observing the cat's reactions to different stimuli, trying to catch it in the act of being more than it appeared to be. But Rede remained inscrutable, never giving her any indication that it was anything other than a normal cat. And yet, Amure couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, monitored, as if Rede were reporting back to someone—or something.
The thought sent a shiver down her spine. What if she was right? What if Rede was more than just a cat? The idea was absurd, and yet, it made a strange kind of sense. After all, hadn't she felt from the beginning that Rede was different, that there was something unusual about the cat? But why? Why would a cat be spying on her? And for whom?
As the days passed, Amure became more and more paranoid. She found herself questioning everything, doubting her own perceptions. She began to wonder if she was losing her mind—was this all just a figment of her imagination, a symptom of her deteriorating mental state? Or was there something more sinister at play?
One evening, as she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the thought hit her like a bolt of lightning. What if the gods were watching her? What if they had sent Rede to spy on her, to monitor her behavior? It was a wild thought, but it made a twisted kind of sense. After all, she had been playing a dangerous game, trying to deceive the gods into believing she had changed. What if they had seen through her ruse? What if they were onto her?
The thought terrified her, but at the same time, it exhilarated her. She had always thrived on danger, on pushing the limits of what was possible. If the gods were watching her, it meant she was doing something right—it meant she was getting under their skin, making them nervous. And that was exactly what she wanted.
But now, she had to be even more careful. If Rede was a spy, she couldn't afford to let her guard down, not even for a moment. She had to be smarter, more cunning, if she was going to outwit the gods. She had to play the game to perfection, leaving no room for error.
As she lay in bed, Amure began to formulate a plan. She would continue to play the part of the reformed sinner, doing good deeds and atoning for her past sins. But beneath the surface, she would be preparing for her ultimate move—the one that would bring the gods to their knees. It was a dangerous game, but it was one she was determined to win.
And so, Amure put on her mask once again, playing the part of the penitent, while in the shadows, she plotted her revenge. But even as she schemed, a part of her couldn't help but wonder—was she really in control, or was she just a pawn in a larger game? The thought lingered in her mind, gnawing at her, but she pushed it aside. She couldn't afford to doubt herself now—not when she was so close to victory.
But in the back of her mind, a small voice whispered a warning—a voice she chose to ignore.