Myles exhales deeply and settles onto the roof of the vehicle. What was that? The thought lingers as he notices a subtle pressure that had been weighing on his head has finally lifted. It hadn't been painful—just… wrong. Unnatural. And those movements—how had he done that? All he'd wanted was to protect her. He'd thrown himself into the moment, trusting blindly in his strange ability to heal and the unfamiliar strength now pulsing through his limbs. New, yet somehow his.
When the craft glides to a stop outside the mansion, he hops down and carefully lifts Lia into his arms. Her weight feels like a memory—heavy with meaning. As he approaches her room, he catches a shift in the atmosphere: the guards, normally stoic, suddenly avert their eyes.
"That's… weird," he mutters under his breath.
He keeps walking, deciding not to press the feeling, for now.
Somewhere else, in a room unlike any other, the floor shimmers like water in motion, while walls of smooth stone and mossy boulders breathe with life. Lush greenery spills across the surfaces, bathed in a soft, diffuse glow that seeps through the fractured ceiling. Flowers bloom beneath the moonlight, which dances across silver-lined furniture as though the room itself is dreaming.
At the heart of it all, Rai sits on a suspended swing beneath the brightest shaft of moonlight. Her presence glows—quiet, serene, untouchable.
"What's gotten into him?" she murmurs, a shiver rippling down her spine. She sips her tea.
Mid-sip, she vanishes.
The teacup hovers in the air for a moment, then settles gently onto the saucer with perfect grace.
In Lia's room.
"Oh? Am I interrupting something~?"Rai turns away, covering her mouth to hide a playful smile.
Lia's arms are wrapped tightly around Myles' neck as he struggles—futilely—to wriggle free. From the outside, it looks far more intimate than it is. Flustered and pinned, Myles gives up with a sigh, lying beside her as she locks him in further, her arms now draped securely around his back.
"This isn't—" he starts.
Rai hushes him gently. "You'll wake her," she whispers.
She floats closer, her voice softening even more. "Look at her. So peaceful…" A pause. "It's almost scary. Especially with your aura flooding the room."
Myles blinks, caught off guard. Then a dry chuckle slips out—he finally gets it. That's why she came.
"What's got you so unbalanced?" Rai asks, now hovering in a seated position. A delicate saucer and teacup appear in her hands as if conjured from the air.
She takes a slow sip, watching him. "You're terrifying the staff, you know."
Myles doesn't answer right away. His breath catches. Images flash—violent, sudden, raw. The attack. His body moving on instinct. His strength, unchecked.
"I killed people…" he thinks. Not aloud. But the weight of it is there, pressing down on him.
His gaze drifts to his hands. They tremble. His jaw tightens.
"You protect…" Lia murmurs in her sleep, barely audible. Her arms tighten, drawing him closer as though offering comfort even in slumber. Her serene expression twists slightly into one of concern.
Myles is stunned and silent.
Rai tilts her head, eyes narrowing slightly. Her little sister's behavior unsettles her more than she lets on.
"What happened," she asks, "on your outing?"
"We…" Myles hesitates, eyes distant. "—We were attacked."
Rai lifts an eyebrow, gaze sharpening. "You took care of it?"
Her eyes drift to his hands. "At what cost?"
Myles' heart sinks. The air around him shifts—his aura, once tense and aggressive, softens. All around them, the mansion staff seem to exhale in collective relief. But not Lia. Her expression, even in sleep, remains clouded with worry.
"She wouldn't hold a monster so tightly," Rai murmurs, gesturing with a glance at Lia's arms curled protectively around him.
"Thank—" he begins, but Rai vanishes mid-sentence.
"—you," he finishes quietly, more to the silence than to her.
He exhales, the weight still pressing on him. Then, quietly, he chuckles.
Lia stirs, smiling faintly as she nestles closer.
In a sleek, dimly lit room layered with advanced tech and cold light, Thia sits in silence. Her assistant stands nearby, a drop of cold sweat slipping down her cheek.
"What, are you scared?" Thia asks without turning.
"N-No, Mother," the assistant replies quickly. Her voice wavers. "I just didn't expect someone so weak-looking to carry such an… overwhelming aura."
"You have nothing to fear."Thia's voice is flat, almost distant. Her eyes remain fixed on the hard-light screen, where Myles' image flickers faintly.
"It's not him."
The assistant—Daena—frowns slightly, confused, but doesn't press. A moment passes.
"I see him tomorrow, then?" she asks carefully.
Thia thinks for a second. "Let my sister keep him… for a week or two."
Without another word, Daena fades into the shadows, dissolving as though she were never there at all.
The next day, Terrene sat behind her desk in a room drenched in soft pink hues. Fur-like coverings lined the walls, and plushies lounged in every corner of the warmly lit space. In her hands, she held a book she had borrowed from her father—discreetly, of course. She had caught him reading it during one of her habitual lurking sessions.
He had been unusually careful with it—more so than with any of his other books. That alone was enough to ignite her curiosity. And as always, her curiosity got the better of her. She waited until the book was left unattended—possibly forgotten—before swiping it. Just in case he noticed, she cast a copy-and-paste spell on an empty book she kept with her. The spell would duplicate every detail as she read—not just the words, but the scent of old parchment, the brittleness of its torn pages, even the faint traces of mold.
The cover bore a single, fading word: Black. Any other title it once had had long since been worn away by time—or perhaps something more deliberate.
It didn't matter. In fact, the mystery only deepened her interest.
After eight long hours of effort, she finally slumped forward. Her eyelids drooped, and her soft, fair cheeks glowed under the warmth of her desk lamp. Her head came to rest on a pink, lizard-shaped plushie nestled beside her book.
"I didn't manage to read a thing…" she mumbled, defeated.
Apparently, all her time had been spent trying to break through a protective spell her father had painstakingly placed on the book. It seemed he was far more skilled—and cautious—than she had given him credit for.
"Mmmh…" Lia stretched and slowly rose from the bed, blinking away sleep. Her hand brushed against something unexpectedly firm beneath it.
"That's not…" she murmured, eyes still half-shut. Then she blinked fully awake. "My pillow," she finished in a quiet breath.
It was Myles—fast asleep, face serene in slumber.
A grin tugged at her lips. "Some dreams do come true," she whispered, amusement glittering in her eyes.
With a devilish smirk, she carefully stripped him down to his boxers. Before his clothes could vanish into him—as they sometimes did—she cast a stasis spell on them. They fluttered through the air, landing in little piles, except for his shirt, which she neatly hung on a rack.
She did the same with her own clothes, humming to herself as she padded toward the shower.
A few minutes later, she returned, hair damp and clinging to her neck, droplets of water still catching the light. She leaned over Myles, her presence cool and close.
"Myles," she whispered softly, nudging him awake with a smile still lingering on her lips.