In the dimly lit gallery, Vlad's shadow seemed to tether Rachel to a world she was desperate to escape. His gaze, both intense and searching, stirred a guilty echo in her heart. "Rachel..." The way he uttered her name stirred memories, laden with regret. "Last time we were in an art gallery, it was your art we admired. And now, here you are, among relics of 'Aphrodite' and echoes of the Roman Empire."

Rachel's voice, barely audible, was thick with emotion. "Vlad." She inhaled, his familiar scent evoking a blend of nostalgia and longing.

Vlad, seemingly reading her thoughts, interrupted. "These paintings are not just art, Rachel. They're fragments of you, pieces of a past you left behind." His words cut through the fog that shrouded her memories, hinting at a connection to a life she had once known but had chosen to forget.

"Something happened," she whispered, her hand trembling as visions from her dreams began to merge with reality. "I remember Rome, hiding, then chaos... But why was I running?"

Vlad, visibly strained, implored her to share more. "Tell me everything, Rachel. Your disappearance left a void. I searched everywhere for you." His voice, laden with sadness, reflected the depth of his search and the pain of her absence.

Rachel, feeling overwhelmed, stepped back. "It's complicated..."

"I've been searching for you nonstop since you disappeared. You left, starting anew as if our bond meant nothing. You broke what you once claimed was unbreakable, shared your deepest self with me, and then... you just disappeared." His words, laden with hurt and frustration, struck her deeply. Rachel felt her chest tighten. She knew she had shattered something precious, something she once held dear.

His hand moved towards the mark on her arm, a gesture filled with a longing for connection. Rachel instinctively pulled away, her mind racing with fear. If Abaddon sensed this, Vlad's life could be in jeopardy. She could see the hurt in Vlad's eyes as he retracted his hand.

"You just vanished," Vlad continued, his gaze piercing through her. "Didn't you think to call, to let me know you were safe? You just left, breaking the bond you said was unbreakable."

"Vlad, I wish I could explain, but there's no time. You need to go. The leech – Abaddon – he's here. It's not safe." Her plea was desperate, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of the impending danger.

"But you have the power to stop the leech. Should I fear you now?"

Rachel's response was swift, her head shaking in denial. "The leech can break through my shield."

Vlad's eyes narrowed. "But you now share the Abaddon's powers, don't you? The mark on your arm, like the one you gave me."

Her gaze dropped to the black mark on her arm, a symbol of power. "I don't fully understand my abilities yet. But if Abaddon learns you're here, he won't hesitate to come after you."

Vlad bridged the distance between them, his hand capturing hers with a swift, decisive movement. His fingers entwined with hers, a tangible connection she couldn't escape. "I was aware of the dangers, yet I had to see you. Don't let me become just a memory. Come with me, Rachel."

Her heart ached under the weight of his plea. Rachel stood at a crossroads, each choice echoing the life she had led, the decisions she had made. In Vlad's earnest gaze, she saw a path that could have been, a reminder of all that was left behind and what could never be.

"How did you find me here, in this gallery of all places?"

"We've known about your presence in Naples for a while. But with Abaddon's surveillance, approaching you was nearly impossible. We've been tracking you. Darius and Estella have been misleading his spies with information about the Phoenix," he explained. "We were certain that Abaddon wouldn't confront the Phoenix directly. If he loses his current form, the bond with you breaks, and he faces the ordeal of returning from the underworld via Inanis all over again."

His eyes softened as they studied her, but within them, a spark of concern flickered to life. "But you, Rachel," he continued, "the darkness in you, it's growing. I can see it, feel it. It's him, isn't it? The Abaddon's influence." He reached for her. "Come with me. Leave Italy, leave all this behind. I can take you somewhere safe, away from his grasp."

A sad smile touched her lips, the weight of her secret anchoring her in place. "My memories have been returning, but there's still so much I can't recall. While I have his trust, I need to stay. I need to uncover what drove me to run, to erase my own memories."

Vlad's hands clenching at his sides. "Rachel, don't be blinded by the quest for truth. The Abaddon is a master of deceit. It's not safe here, not for you."

Her hand drifted downward, resting gently on the subtle swell of her abdomen. "I can't leave now," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "If I run, we'll be fugitives, always looking over our shoulders. I can't — I won't — raise a child in the shadows."

Shock registered in Vlad's eyes, his focus dropping to her stomach, then returning to her face. "You're pregnant?" he asked.

She nodded, a tear escaping her eye, sliding down her cheek. "Yes. And that changes everything. I'm sorry. I didn't leave to hurt you. I left because I felt the Abaddon closing in, and it was a last attempt to save us from him. I intended to travel here and find the Pheonix myself, but the humans captured me."

"Come with me now, we can protect you from him," Vlad insisted.

"I cannot, he is too strong. I cannot live a life on the run, not while I'm carrying my son."

Vlad's acceptance of her decision was evident in his resigned nod. "I understand. We'll be close by if you need us. Perhaps you should consider searching for the other paintings. They might hold the key to understanding all of this. But the choice is yours, Rachel."

With one last lingering look, he turned and disappeared, leaving Rachel alone amidst the silent witnesses of their bittersweet reunion.

As Rachel wandered the streets, her thoughts lingered on Vlad. The tranquillity around her was at odds with the storm inside her heart. Settling on a bench in a quiet park, she allowed herself a moment of reflection.

Her respite was short-lived as the leech, in his human form, approached her. "Do you question his request? Is that why you delay our departure?"

Rachel looked up, her frustration palpable. "You know what happened, yet you remain silent."

"It is not my place to tell," he replied, evasively.

"You think risking my child to destroy the Phoenix is justified?" Her voice rose with anger.

He maintained his stance. "You have the powers of the creature of darkness. The Phoenix cannot stand against you."

"His powers couldn't prevent his fall into a volcano or stop the Phoenix's pursuit. Tell me, what really happened?"

He shook his head, resigned. "It's not my place to reveal such truths."

"You stood with me in Egypt, I remember in my dreams. But now, you chose him. Why?"

He sighed, a look of resignation in his eyes. "You disrupted the balance. For centuries, I've mediated between you both, witnessing his deep pain and suffering."

"What about my suffering? Why would I repeatedly destroy my own mortal body?"

He sighed, a weary slump in his shoulders. "The situation is complex. You and Abaddon play pivotal roles in balancing light and darkness. In the shadows, sacrifices are made, sacrifices you rejected, disrupting this balance and initiating this cycle."

"I broke!" Rachel's voice rose, but she paused, struggling to regain her composure. "I'm not the problem here. It's the truths you're hiding from me. He's sending me on this mission with nothing to lose. If I succeed, he eliminates a threat; if I fail, I'll lose my memories again. And now that he has a mortal body, he can ensure I never regain them, gaining complete control over me."

The leech waved away her concerns. "You're overthinking his motives."

"Tell me the truth," she insisted, her voice firm. "He claimed the Phoenix killed our son. Is that the reality?"

Her emotions surged as a sparrow landed beside her. The bird, a symbol of innocence, momentarily soothed her turmoil. She extended a finger, and it hopped onto her hand, a small connection to life amidst chaos.

The leech closed the distance between them. "Humans, animals, they sense your power."

"This isn't right," Rachel countered. "I am a creature of rebirth, not destruction. He's a coward."

"It is a sacrifice to maintain the balance." His justification only fuelled her frustration. The Abaddon had convinced him that death was necessarily. "You didn't question him before we left. Why? Do you fear him?"

"Why didn't you challenge him?" she pressed, her eyes still on the sparrow. "I have dreams where he chases me, obliterating everything in his path, and I am so afraid that I destroy my mortal body. How can I not fear him?" She looked at the leech, gauging his sincerity.

"I am but a servant. I am not here to intervene in your relationship. My role is to support and protect each of you. Taking sides would provoke his wrath," he explained, his voice neutral.

She reached up to a branch and encourage the bird to step across. Brushing off her hands, she confronted him with newfound clarity. "I am disappointed, but now I understand you are no ally. You were his spy, and you still are."

As she strode away, he quickly followed, protesting, "I am no one's spy."

Walking on, she threw over her shoulder, "Perhaps your loyalty was always with him, a guardian to keep me in line."

He followed, adamant. "That's not true," he insisted.

Rachel stopped and faced him, extending her hand. "Give me the key," she demanded.

His brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"I'll continue alone from here."

"But he ordered us to..." he began, only to be cut off.

"You said we act individually. I've made my decision. If you're truly impartial, prove it now," she challenged.

He hesitated. "You need protection," he insisted, his loyalty clearly torn.

Rachel's tone was dismissive. "Considering I'm to face a creature that even the Abaddon couldn't defeat, I doubt you can be of much help. If you want to prove you are not a spy, now's your chance."

The leech, visibly conflicted, faltered before finally pulling the keys from his pocket. "How am I supposed to get back?"

As she took the keys, Rachel retorted, "You're not confined to that body. You always find me easily enough. I'm sure you'll figure something out. Maybe you could even swim across the ocean. I hear serpents are good swimmers."

"I am sorry, Aphrodite," he offered, a note of regret in his voice.

Rachel's response was firm. "If you were truly sorry, you'd tell me the truth. You remember what happened, yet you choose to keep it from me. As long as you withhold the truth, your apologies mean nothing." With that, she walked away, determined to uncover her hidden past.