Oliver—and the entire tower—vanished in a flash of green light.
And I was left alone.
chin down in the dirt.
Tears slipping silently onto the cracked earth beneath me.
My body wouldn't move. My breathing came in broken hiccups.
My eyes… they stayed glued to the barrier.
The once-stable dome now flickered, twisted, and trembled as if writhing in pain. Flow pulsed violently along the ground, drawn toward the city. It was getting devoured. Shattered.
And I could feel them.
The Flow Beasts.
They were coming.
Peace was dying.
And it was my fault.
I clenched my jaw. My left hand curled into a fist and slammed into the ground.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Until pain screamed up my arm and blood smeared across my knuckles.
"...Weak…" I muttered through gritted teeth. "So fucking weak… Disgustingly weak…"
"Bug!"
Lou's voice cut through the haze. Footsteps followed—Amira too. But I didn't look at them. My eyes stayed on that damn dirt, my heart beating so hard it could split open.
"So infuriating!" I shouted, slamming the ground again, harder, "I couldn't stop him! I couldn't stop any of it! What was all that training for? What was the point?!"
Lou clicked his tongue, just barely audible over the sound of my fist pounding the earth.
"It's not your fault, Bug!"
I didn't hear him.
"Mina died because of me. The barrier's gone because of me. My parents—they're in danger because of ME!"
"All that training… all the sacrifices… If it couldn't save anyone, if it couldn't change anything, then what was the point? Why was I even born?! I should've been the one who died, not—"
"ZIP IT!!"
Lou's foot slammed into my chin. Pain flared, and I fell backward, breath knocked out of me. A second later, he grabbed me by the collar and yanked me up until I was face-to-face with him.
His eyes blazed.
"Shut up already! No one is blaming you!"
I couldn't even look him in the eye. I just trembled in his grip.
"You think this is all on you? Even we—the damn sponsors—were completely in the dark when Karim and that lab vanished! We had no warning, no plan, nothing!"
He threw me back down with a snarl. I hit the dirt again. Hard.
Amira said nothing. She simply stood there, silent, watching.
Lou clenched his fists. His voice dropped lower, but it was heavier than ever.
"Their plan was flawless. They outplayed everyone. We couldn't stop them."
He stepped back.
"So stop wallowing. Stand the hell up. This isn't over yet."
I chuckled.
No.
I laughed.
A full-bodied, unhinged laugh that echoed across the trees.
Lou and Amira exchanged uneasy glances, visibly thrown off by my sudden shift in mood.
I couldn't blame them.
Even I didn't know what part of me was talking anymore.
I slowly raised my head, eyes gleaming with something bitter—something real.
"That's rich coming from you, Lou," I said, my voice trembling between hysteria and rage.
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
I spread my arms, motioning at the world around us—the trembling barrier, the ground humming with Flow, the forest.
"I mean this! The so-called Beast Territory! Why didn't you ever tell me about it?!"
Their silence was confirmation enough.
They flinched. Fidgeted. Avoided my eyes.
Of course they didn't want this truth to come out.
So that psycho Oliver… was telling the truth.
A sharp grin cut across my face. "Why did you destroy Kathízise, huh? Was it really 'for the future'? Was it really for the best?"
Lou's eyes widened. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.
"…How… Who told you about the Containment Strategy…?"
Containment Strategy?
I laughed even harder.
"Oh. My. God. That's what you call it?" I spat, stepping forward, fire building in my throat. "Don't insult me with that sugar-coated name. Containment strategy—please. Just call it what it is: favoritism. Ignorance."
"You could've done anything else to stop the Flow Beasts from reaching civilization. But no. You chose the path of least resistance. The most convenient. The one that let you walk away with clean hands."
I stood up, staggering a little—but staying upright.
"What's wrong?" I sneered. "Cat got your ton—"
The world tilted.
It hit me all at once—like gravity had been waiting for this moment to drag me down.
My head spun. My vision turned to watercolor. Their mouths were still moving, maybe even shouting, but I couldn't hear a thing.
My knees buckled.
Then—black.
I collapsed.
Makes sense, right?
I'd been running on fumes this whole time. If it wasn't for Adrenaline Rush, I should've collapsed days ago.
Darkness embraced me.
My senses dulled, my body weightless—as if I was floating in nothingness, suspended in a space where time had no meaning.
Then…
Softly.
Gently.
It started to rain.
I looked down.
Raindrops met the ground in delicate taps, bouncing once… twice… before merging into little rippling puddles. It was a quiet sight. Pure. Unspoiled. Beautiful in its simplicity.
I started walking.
No… Hadn't I already been walking in the rain all this time?
My steps were small—smaller than usual.
Yet somehow, I'd never felt more alive.
My hand was stretched upward, fingers interlocked with a hand much larger than mine. Warm. Firm. Comforting. The skin was soft, familiar.
"Watch your steps, Ash," she said, her voice gentle as the rain. No, it was gentler. Her eyes looked down at me, glowing like polished rubies in the dim light. "Try not to soak your shoes, alright?"
I nodded with a grin. "Okay, Mother!"
When I looked up at her—at those weary yet kind lines on her face, those deep red eyes, and her long black hair—I felt something swell inside me.
Happiness.
Peace.
I always smiled like that when I saw her. Always.
We reached the cathedral.
It was quiet inside—just the two of us.
The others must've still been out in the rain.
She reached for a large towel draped over a wooden chair—the only one left.
"Come here, little one," she said softly, wrapping me up in the towel. Its warmth enveloped me, the fabric tickling against my skin.
I giggled. "Heh heh… Mother, it tickles!"
She smiled.
Not just with her lips—but with her entire face.
Like my laughter was the only melody she ever wanted to hear.
"Oh? It does?" she said with a sly glint in her eye. "Then… what about this?"
Her long fingers slipped to my side, wiggling in rapid motions.
I screamed with laughter, crumbling to the floor in a fit of giggles. "Ahhh! This—it tickles even more!"
We had nothing compared to others.
No wealth. No luxuries. No promises of grand futures.
But we had each other.
And that—at least for me—was more than enough.
She lit the fireplace, the gentle glow of the flames dancing across the room.
We sat together, just the two of us, wrapped in the hush of crackling wood. I was curled up in her arms, her legs forming a cradle that held me like a cocoon—warm, protective, safe.
I could feel her heartbeat beneath my cheek.
I could hear the gentle humming of the lullaby she always sang, day and night. A simple tune, but one I could never forget.
There was peace here. True peace.
A small piece of bread in my hands, the soft rustle of the fire, and her warmth all around me… If someone asked me which moment in my life I'd want to last forever—this would be it.
Back when I was just a child, sheltered in her embrace.
"Why so quiet, Ash?"
Her voice broke the silence like a feather landing on water.
I looked up.
She was gazing down at me with that look—one I knew so well.
The one that said, "You don't need to worry. I'm here."
And just like that, my heart melted all over again.
"Do you hate my father?" I asked, unsure why the words slipped out just then.
Her smile didn't fade, but for a long moment, she said nothing. The quiet stretched on until finally, she answered:
"I… don't really know."
Her voice was soft. Steady.
"He didn't treat me kindly. He cast me aside the moment I told him I was pregnant. Maybe he deserves my hatred for that… but my feelings about him are still too tangled to call simple hate."
I lowered my head.
That was just like her. Always honest—even with things a child probably shouldn't have to hear.
But that was why I loved her.
She never lied. Never pretended. She was just… real.
A gentle soul, like an angel who decided to walk among mortals.
"Then… if you hated him, would you still give birth to me?"
At that, I felt her heartbeat flutter, just for a second. But her embrace tightened around me.
She pulled me closer, her warmth eclipsing even the fire.
"You had nothing to do with it," she whispered, our cheeks pressed together. "Why should you suffer for someone else's sins? Even if you looked like him. Even if you thought like him. Even if you turned out to be his mirror… I'd still be grateful."
"I'll always be grateful that you're my son, Ash."
Those words—so pure, so simple—they struck something deep inside me.
My eyes welled up, and all I could do was nestle further into her warmth.
That was my way of saying thank you.
Then, after a long silence, she spoke again.
"Promise me something, Ash."
"What is it?"
"Promise me…
That no matter where this world takes you, you won't become someone who toys with others.
That you'll fight to free those bound in chains, not tighten their cages.
That you'll offer head pats and candy to children—not push them out into the cold.
That you'll be a source of warmth to those who need it—Even if your heart chooses to greet the world with frost.
That even if the world burns you over and over… you'll be born from those Ashes in order to fly higher."
I stayed quiet, my throat too tight to speak.
But I nodded. Slowly. Firmly.
She smiled, and her lullaby returned, soft and gentle.
Her words etched themselves into my heart, never to fade.
"I promise you, Mother…"
The fire…
Its glow grew brighter—brighter—until everything was swallowed by a blinding white.
Wait… Wasn't someone with me just now?
Who…?
The warmth slipped away before I could grasp it. I blinked, and the whiteness around me slowly began to solidify into something else.
No… I wasn't floating anymore. I was lying down.
The ceiling was white. And the harsh light pouring in wasn't from any fire—it was from lamps. Artificial. Clinical.
I let out a groan, my head pounding like a war drum.
"Ugh…"
My hand instinctively went to my forehead, only to feel soft wrappings coiled tightly around it. Bandages? I blinked again, and through the hazy blur, I noticed both my arms were wrapped too. Their stiffness confirmed it—I was in a hospital bed.
Figures.
Every time I blacked out, it seemed I got a ticket to the past.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
A rhythmic tapping echoed softly through the room.
Turning my head slowly, I spotted Lou slumped over a desk at the far end. His head rested on folded arms, but his index finger tapped against the wood in steady, clock-like beats.
Near the door stood Arima, ever the silent observer.
And just beside him, leaning against the wall and nearly slipping off it, was—
"Romeo…" I mumbled.
Yeah, that was definitely Romeo. Even through my blurred vision, he was unmistakable.
A faint smile tugged at my lips.
"Lou… Quit tapping like that. It's annoying."
The moment my voice broke the silence, every head in the room snapped toward me like strings had yanked them upright.
"Y-Young Lady!" Romeo was the first to react. He rushed to my bedside, knees hitting the floor as he leaned in, eyes locked onto mine.
His eyes were red, swollen with worry. His nose, too. Had he… been crying?
He really had worried himself sick, huh?
"Are you okay? Do you feel pain anywhere? Can you breathe properly? Do you—"
"Easy, easy," I said softly, raising a hand to slow him down. "I'm fine. Hanging in there, alright?"
My voice cracked into a tired giggle, and he finally exhaled, relief pouring from his expression like a dam breaking.
"That's… really good to hear."
Lou walked over and plopped himself down at the edge of the bed.
"You were out cold for nearly a full day," he said, arms crossed.
I nodded. Not surprising, really. I needed the rest—probably more than I realized.
"Eighteen hours," Romeo corrected with a hand raised.
Lou clicked his tongue.
"Jeez. Saying a day's just easier, isn't it?"
"Enough, both of you," Amira finally cut in, her voice as steady as ever.
She stepped closer to my bedside, her calm radiating like a shield, and handed me a small, chilled packet of chocolate milk. A smile danced on her lips—soft, warm, maybe even a little sad.
"Welcome back, cutie pie."
My arms felt like lead, but I managed to reach out and take it from her. She had already inserted the straw for me.
I sipped.
It tasted bitter.
"...Mina." Her name escaped my lips like a breath I didn't know I was holding.
Everyone stilled.
Lou exhaled heavily. "She… We gave her the necessary treatment. Don't worry."
I looked up at him. He didn't meet my eyes, but I nodded slowly anyway.
"I see…"
Another sip.
Still bitter.
Silence lingered like fog. Lou didn't speak—he rarely knew what to say at times like these. Romeo remained quiet too, probably overwhelmed, still piecing everything together.
Amira, though… she stayed by my side.
She ruffled my hair, her fingers threading gently through the strands. Her smile never left, but it didn't reach her eyes.
The chocolate milk was still bitter.
"Cutie pie," she began again, this time with a firmness layered beneath her gentle tone. "I know this might not be the right time… but you need to hear it anyway."
I looked down at the blanket, gripping the drink tighter.
"You acted recklessly," she said, her voice unwavering. "You ignored orders from the Council by running away from surveillance. You left without telling us where you were going. You abandoned the task Lou gave you. And Mina…"
She didn't finish the sentence.
She didn't need to.
My vision blurred. And they spilled without warning, soaking into the blanket. My breath caught in my throat, and my nose ran as my chest began to heave.
I bit down on the straw. The chocolate milk didn't taste sweet anymore.
It never did.
"Cutie pie," Amira continued, still gently stroking my hair like a lullaby at odds with her words, "You failed your first mission."
My hand clenched the blanket. The other shook as I held the drink close to my chest.
"Next time…" I choked out, voice ragged, "Next time… I'll definitely stay focused. I'll finish it… I'll finish my task… no matter what."
Even if it hurt.
Even if it broke me.
Even if it meant losing everything again—
I would not fail.
Not again.