As Amity and the Hooded Figure approached the Owl House, the familiar, crooked silhouette of the building rose out of the misty night like a haven in the storm. Amity felt her heart quicken as they stepped through the front door. The soft creak of the hinges gave way to the warm glow of the living room, but the air inside was tense, heavy with unspoken fears. Sitting around the room were Willow, Gus, and Hunter, their faces pale and drawn.

"Amity!" Willow exclaimed, standing up from her seat. Relief briefly replaced the exhaustion in her eyes. "Thank Titan you're here."

"Willow, Gus, Hunter?" Amity's brow furrowed as she took in their appearances. They all looked like they hadn't slept in days. "What's going on?"

Gus gave a weary nod, rubbing his temples. "I think you know, Amity. The nightmares… they won't stop."

Willow crossed her arms, a troubled expression darkening her usually cheerful face. "We've all been having them. Horrible, awful dreams. Other than The Collector and Hunter possessed by Belos, I haven't been able to figure out why."

Hunter, leaning against the far wall, added quietly, "It's like they're not just the nightmares about Belos. Some of them feel real, like someone's messing with our heads." He glanced up at the Hooded Figure, his brown eyes narrowing. "Who's this?"

Amity glanced back at the figure, who stood silent, his hood still obscuring his face. "He… brought me here," she said cautiously. "He said there's danger, and we need to be together."

The Hooded Figure stepped forward, his voice calm yet urgent. "The danger is already here. Those nightmares aren't random. They're meant to break you, to weaken your resolve. You're being targeted."

"By who?" Hunter demanded.

The Hooded Figure didn't answer directly. Instead, he turned to Amity. "Where's Edalyn?"

Before Amity could respond, Hooty's long, serpentine form stretched into the room from one of the walls. His cheerful, unblinking eyes scanned the gathering. "Oh, hi, Amity! Hi, new mysterious hooded person! Eda's not here right now, Hoot-Hoot. She's with Lulu and the others!"

Amity jumped slightly, startled by Hooty's sudden appearance, but the Hooded Figure didn't flinch, his posture calm and collected.

"Where is she, Hooty?" the Hooded Figure asked, his tone even and measured.

Hooty swiveled his head, as if studying him. "Eda's with Amity's dad, Alador. They went out to survey all the damage from Belos and the Collector's little games. You wouldn't believe the mess out there!"

Amity blinked, taken aback. "Wait, Dad's with Eda and Ms. Lilith?"

"Yep!" Hooty chirped, his cheerful tone contrasting sharply with the tension in the room. "They've been out all day checking on the forests and making sure the old Titan bones and buildings haven't, like, fallen over or anything! Important stuff! HOOT!"

"Okay," Willow said slowly, turning her gaze back to the Hooded Figure. "You don't seem all that fazed by Hooty."

"Should I be?" he replied, his tone neutral but carrying an undertone of dry humor.

Willow opened her mouth, then closed it again, clearly at a loss. Hooty leaned closer, his large eyes fixed on the figure's hood. "You're not afraid of me? Interesting. Usually people scream, get annoyed, want me dead or try to run away. But you… you're calm. I like that, Hoot-Hoot."

The Hooded Figure ignored Hooty's rambling and turned back to the group. "You need to find Edalyn and Alador. The danger isn't something you can face alone. You'll need their help."

Amity frowned, stepping forward. "You keep talking about danger, but you're not explaining anything. What's coming? Why do we need my dad and Eda?"

The figure hesitated, his gloved hands clenching briefly. "Because the person behind your nightmares isn't just targeting your minds. They're after your spirits, your bonds—everything that makes you strong together. If you're divided, you'll fall."

Hunter stepped forward, his Brown eyes narrowing. "That's not an answer. Who is it? What do they want?"

The Hooded Figure's shoulders seemed to tense, but he didn't reply immediately. Instead, he turned toward the door. "We need to move. I'll explain on the way. The longer we stay here, the more vulnerable you are."

Amity crossed her arms, planting her feet firmly. "We're not going anywhere until you give us something real to go on. My dad, Eda, everyone's been through enough. If you want us to trust you, you need to start talking."

The figure paused, his gloved hands curling into fists before he relaxed again. "Fine," he said after a long moment. "But not here. If they're watching, they'll know."

"They?" Willow echoed, her voice tinged with unease. Who's "they"?"

The figure turned toward the door again, his tone brooking no argument. "Follow me. I'll tell you everything once we're safe."

Amity exchanged a worried glance with Willow, Gus, and Hunter. The three nodded reluctantly, their expressions filled with uncertainty. Whatever the Hooded Figure knew, they couldn't afford to ignore the warnings, not with the nightmares haunting them and their friends potentially in danger.

As the group filed out of the Owl House, Hooty called after them. "Good luck! And mysterious hooded person, come back soon! I have SO many questions!"

"I'm sure you do, Hooty." The figure didn't look back, his pace quick and determined as he led the way into the night.

The night air was cool as the group made their way through the winding paths of the Demon Realm. The Hooded Figure led them with a confident stride, his movements precise and deliberate, as if he knew every turn and shadow by heart. Behind him, the group walked in uneasy silence, their footsteps crunching against the dirt and scattered leaves.

Amity lagged slightly behind, her thoughts racing. She cast a furtive glance at the Hooded Figure, watching how the edges of his cloak swayed with each step. A flicker of something familiar gnawed at her, a memory she couldn't quite pin down. Finally, she leaned closer to Luz, her voice a whisper, barely audible above the rustling wind.

"Luz," she began hesitantly, her eyes darting between the Hooded Figure and the ground. "I… I think I've seen him before."

Luz turned her head, her brows knitting together in confusion. "Him? You mean the Hooded Guy? Are you sure?"

Amity nodded, her voice low but steady. "I caught a glimpse earlier. His hood slipped just enough. I saw… snow-white hair and these glowing green eyes."

Luz's brow furrowed deeper as she glanced toward the figure ahead of them, then back to Amity. "Snow-white hair and green eyes? Do you know anyone like that?"

Amity hesitated, her fingers nervously brushing the hem of her sweater. "Not anymore. Not since… not since I was a kid." Her voice carried a weight of uncertainty, as if speaking the words out loud made the faint memory feel even more distant and unreal.

"Who was it?" Luz asked softly, her hand gently brushing Amity's arm in support.

Amity shook her head, her lavender hair swaying slightly with the motion. "I don't know. It's like a half-remembered dream. I can't even be sure it's him. I was so young, and the memory is… hazy." She bit her lip, frustration flickering in her voice. "But something about him feels familiar. Like I've met him before, or… or I should know him."

Luz frowned, her gaze drifting toward the Hooded Figure again. "Maybe we should just ask him. I mean, if he's leading us into some big danger, don't we deserve to know who he is?"

Amity looked at Luz sharply, shaking her head. "Not yet. He might not tell us anything, or worse, he might lie. I think it's better if we keep watching him for now, figure out what his deal really is."

Luz's lips pressed into a thin line, her chocolate-brown eyes flickering with unease. "Okay," she agreed reluctantly. "But he already seems unfriendly as it is, very mysterious, if he starts acting sketchy—or sketchier than he already is—we call him out."

"Deal," Amity replied, though her voice carried little conviction. She wrapped her arms around herself as they walked, the familiar sensation of worry settling into her chest.

Ahead of them, the Hooded Figure glanced back momentarily, as if sensing their conversation. His face remained obscured, but the brief motion was enough to send a shiver through Amity. Those eyes—those green eyes—flashed in her mind again, vivid and almost haunting.

"Amity," Luz whispered, leaning closer. "Do you think he knows you? Like, if you're remembering him, could he be remembering you too?"

Amity's voice was barely above a breath. "I don't know, Luz. But if he does… what does that mean?"

Neither of them had an answer. The two shared a quiet, uneasy glance before falling silent again, their questions lingering unanswered in the chilly night air. The Hooded Figure continued ahead, his steps unwavering, his destination clear—even if his intentions weren't.

Ghost Ravencroft stepped through the entrance of Blight Manor, her movements silent as a specter's, her sharp yellow eyes sweeping across the grand but empty halls. The dim lighting cast long, jagged shadows against the walls, and the once-imposing structure now felt… hollow.

She strode further inside, her black cloak billowing behind her like a phantom's veil. Something was missing. No, not something—someone.

Her lips curled into a smirk as she wandered through the estate, taking in the absence of a certain wretched presence. Odalia Blight.

Every trace of the woman had been erased. The ornate paintings of her had been stripped from the walls, her decorative vanity table—once cluttered with expensive perfumes and gilded trinkets—was gone. No elaborate dresses hung in the open closets, no trace of her artificial, saccharine scent lingered in the air.

Ghost Ravencroft let out a low chuckle, the sound reverberating through the vacant space. Well, well. So they finally cut her out like the disease she was.

She stalked toward the sitting area, brushing her fingers along the back of a pristine, reupholstered couch. Alador had certainly wasted no time removing all evidence of his ex-wife's existence. Divorce, she thought with a twinge of amusement. How quaint.

She plucked a small trinket off a nearby shelf, idly twirling it between her fingers. "A clean break, huh?" she murmured to herself, tossing the object aside carelessly. It landed on the carpet with a dull thud.

Truthfully, she approved of the decision. It was the logical course of action—Odalia had been little more than dead weight, a parasite clinging to power she never truly deserved. Still… it would've been so much more satisfying if Alador had simply killed her.

Ghost Ravencroft's eyes gleamed with dark amusement as she imagined it—Odalia's final, pitiful pleas, Alador standing over her, a look of grim determination on his face as he finally silenced her once and for all.

But no, she mused bitterly. He chose the civilized route. Pity.

Still, Odalia was gone from the manor. But where had she slithered off to?

Ghost Ravencroft exhaled sharply, pacing slowly through the empty hall. She had come here for a reason—she needed Odalia. Not for sentiment, not for some twisted form of nostalgia, but as something more… useful. A tool. A servant.

She may be a failure as a mother and a wife, but even failures can be repurposed.

But where could she be? The Isles weren't exactly kind to fallen aristocrats, and without her status, Odalia was likely fending for herself in the filth she once scoffed at.

Ghost Ravencroft smirked.

Oh well, she thought, turning on her heel. I suppose I'll just have to find her myself.