Zen stood frozen, his breath caught in his throat. For a heartbeat, he could only stare.
Aileen.
Then her face lit up, eyes brimming with tears. She rushed toward him, a desperate, broken cry escaping her lips.
"Brother!"
The word felt sharp yet soft, like it had been locked away inside her for ages.
Zen dropped to his knees just in time.
She crashed into him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. He held her close, as if she were something sacred, as if a piece of his soul had just returned. One arm wrapped securely around her back, the other cradled her head gently.
The moment she touched him, the numbness he had built around his heart shattered.
His breath hitched, and his shoulders trembled. He clutched her tighter, as if he could fold her back into himself and shield her from the world.
"I missed you…" she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. "It's been so long… I was scared…"
"I know," Zen murmured, his voice cracking. "I'm so sorry. I'm here now."
She pulled back just enough to look at him, her cheeks damp with tears. Her small hands brushed against his face.
"You're hurt…" she said, her fingers tracing over a faded scar.
Zen smiled despite the ache in his heart. "It's nothing. I'm okay. You're safe now. That's what matters most."
Aileen blinked, struggling to hold back her tears, but it was too much for her.
"I stayed strong like you said," she whispered. "I didn't cry… not too much."
Zen closed his eyes and kissed her hair, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them like a blanket.
"Of course, you are," he whispered. "You're the 'Strongest Little Sister' in the world."
For a brief moment, the chaos of the world around them faded into the background.
Not the looming threat of the demon's throne behind them, nor the curse clawing at his heart. Just the warmth of a brother and sister, holding onto each other as if the world might disappear if they let go.
Zen's arms trembled. His exhaustion ran deeper than the surface; it sank into his bones, his blood, his very soul.
But even amidst the weariness, he managed to smile.
For her.
She leaned into him, her small fingers gripping the rough fabric of his worn dress.
"Where have you been?" she asked quietly. "Were you having the nightmares again?"
He blinked, and the smile faded from his lips. "What?"
"You look so tired," she said, concern shining in her wide eyes. "Worse than before. What happened?"
Zen hesitated.
Every night, the nightmares dragged him into darkness. Shadows writhed where they shouldn't, voices murmured without mouths, screams echoed in his mind until he woke, trembling. Sometimes, in those dreams, his sister changed—her face twisted, her eyes turned empty, reaching for him with claws instead of hands. Other times, it was their mother, chasing him through dark forests, her voice cracked and haunting.
He had never told Aileen.
She was too young. Too innocent.
She didn't need to know that her brother was cursed.
So he forced a smile, hollow, weary.
"They're just dreams," he lied. "I'm fine now."
Her brow furrowed. "But you,.."
"I'm just tired," he replied gently. "It's been… a long road."
He took her small hand in his.
"But it's over now. We're leaving this place. No more hunger. No more chains. We're going somewhere better, Aileen. Somewhere clean. Somewhere filled with light."
Her eyes sparkled with cautious hope.
Her eyes sparkled with cautious hope.
"You'll eat real food. Sleep in soft beds. Maybe even go to school. Make friends. Be a child again."
She squeezed his hand, her warmth bringing a flicker of joy to his chest. "What about you?"
Zen hesitated, uncertain.
"I'll… be right behind you," he said softly. "As always."
But then, he felt it.
Pressure from the throne loomed over him. He knew time was slipping away too quickly.
He gently brushed her hair behind her ear, his hand trembling slightly. He kissed her cheek, then her forehead, holding the moment in his heart.
Then he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. Her small body pressed against him, warm and real.
Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he fought to keep them in check. He didn't want her to notice. He didn't want her last memory of him to be tears.
This wasn't goodbye forever.
Just for now.
He would find her again. After he was free. After everything was finished. He would walk through fire to reach her. But he had no idea how long that would take.
So he held her one last time, as if that could make it easier. As if that could make it enough.
Time was slipping away.
There were so many things he wanted to say. Stories. Memories. Promises.
But it was already too late.
She was still his sister, a little girl who clung to his hand when she was scared.
But the next time they met, if they ever did, she would not remember him.
Just another face. Another stranger.
The thought carved into his chest like a slow, dull knife.
But this was the choice he had made.
"She just has to be safe," he whispered.
He looked up, steeling himself.
"I'm ready."
The Demon of Dreams leaned forward, her smile wicked and knowing.
"Oh? So eager to be rid of her?"
As she spoke, Aileen's body started to go limp; her eyes fluttered shut.
Zen caught her before she fell, cradling her gently, brushing her hair away from her face.
"She's only asleep," the demon said, the words dripping with mock sympathy.
Zen's hand trembled as it rested on Aileen's head.
"Make it painless."
"Of course," she said. "She'll wake in the human domain, fed, bathed, safe. A wealthy orphanage. Kind old matrons. They'll think she was simply left at their doorstep."
The demon stood, casting a long shadow across the cold stone floor.
"She won't remember the demons. Or the blood. Or you."
Zen closed his eyes, bracing himself against the weight of those words.
"She doesn't have to," he murmured. "She just has to be happy."
Two shadowed attendants appeared, their faces obscured, moving quietly like phantoms.
They gently lifted the sleeping girl, cradling her in their arms.
Zen didn't fight it. He stood there, a spectator to his own sorrow.
With a casual wave of her hand, the Demon Queen dismissed them, her voice silent but heavy with finality.
Zen remained frozen in place as Aileen was carried away, step by step, slowly fading from his view like a haunting memory slipping into the night.
He felt a desperate urge to run after her.
To scream her name.
But he didn't.
This was the choice he had made.
Turning away, he felt the silence settle around him like a weight. Grief intertwined with relief, exhaustion mixing with the emptiness of his heart.
He made his way through the twisting palace halls, the flickering lamps casting eerie shadows on the walls, until he reached the barren room where the slaves took respite.
In the corner, a narrow cot awaited him.
It felt uninviting.
Yet somehow, familiar.
He collapsed onto it, face buried in the rough fabric, the cold stone beneath him more chilling than ever before.
And for the first time in what felt like an eternity… the silence around him held no promise of hope.
Only a profound emptiness.
Meanwhile, in the throne room, the Demon Queen lingered in her seat, lost in thought until an unsettling calm washed over her.
Gradually, she rose, her robes trailing behind her like whispers in the air.
With a flick of her wrist, a floating cube glided toward her, humming softly, the very air around it twisting and bending.
She caught it delicately, her fingers wrapping around its edges with precision.
Inside, shadows swirled, restless, tumultuous, as if a storm were contained within the cube.
"Morpheus…" she hissed, the name dripping with venom.
Hatred flickered in her eyes.
A smile crept across her face, not sweet, but sharp and cold.
"Just you wait."