The Bright Family estate loomed before them — vast and elegant, more a private city than a home. Snow landed softly, his presence silent as ever. Beside him, the girl he had helped escape exhaled a deep breath of relief.
She reached up, gently touching the delicate hairpin that glimmered in her hair — Elvis, who had transformed himself into the accessory to guide and protect her.
She smiled. "I can't believe that actually worked..."
Snow didn't respond, but his gaze briefly lingered on the estate ahead. A place of power. A place of refuge — but not for him.
"I guess we part ways here," he said quietly.
Her eyes lingered on him. "Will I... see you again?"
"Yes. But first, I need to visit my parents."
"...I see." A pause. Then her voice softened. "Then I'll come looking for you."
Before Snow could answer, she stepped forward. Light on her toes. Her lips brushed his cheek — quick, nervous, sincere — and she darted away, leaving nothing but the warmth of her kiss behind.
Snow blinked. Then smiled.
"...Cute," he murmured. Spreading his wings of light, he vanished into the sky like a fading dream.
Days passed.
No one heard from Snow. But Lola and Clair continued forward, unfazed. They knew — he wasn't lost. He was simply moving ahead, just as he always had.
On the fifth day, Snow arrived in a secluded meadow — a small field far removed from the chaos of the world.
In its center stood a massive boulder, aged and silent. But unlike any ordinary stone, this one pulsed faintly with energy — as if time itself had curled around it.
Wildflowers bloomed around its base. Nature had wrapped the place in beauty, as though protecting something precious.
Snow stepped toward it, his expression unreadable.
// YOU HAVE FOUND AN EGO FRAGMENT //
A translucent screen materialized before him.
DING!
🜲 EGO INFORMATION 🜲
EGO NAME: HORACE
STATUS: BROKEN FRAGMENT
GRADE: Unknown
Description:
A shattered remembrance of what once was — a blade that severed all from time and space. A weapon of absolute domination, now lost in the aftermath of a forgotten battle. Only fragments remain.
Note: This Ego can be reforged by its original master or a Sovereign, or it can be used to evolve another Ego.
"...So this is what Chronos was after?" Snow muttered.
// INDEED. A PART OF HIM LIES WITHIN. BUT I SUGGEST YOU DO NOT REFORGE IT. PURIFY IT — THEN FEED IT TO ANOTHER EGO. //
Pathfinder's voice resonated within his mind.
"...How?"
// PLACE YOUR HAND ON THE FRAGMENT. I WILL HANDLE THE REST. //
Snow took a breath. Then slowly placed his palm on the boulder.
The moment his skin touched the surface, a pulse of purple energy burst forth. The stone flared violently, rejecting him with raw force.
DING!
PURIFICATION OF SHATTERED FRAGMENT IN PROGRESS...
"Grrgh—!"
Agony tore through him as the energy burned into his hand. He grit his teeth, holding firm, unwilling to let go.
Then — it stopped.
The boulder cracked. Crumbled.
And what remained floated gently into his hand — a golden orb, warm and radiant, about the size of a tennis ball. It glimmered like stardust, as though the past had been reborn into something new.
DING!
PURIFICATION COMPLETE.
Snow gazed at it, awe quietly flickering in his eyes.
// NOW IT'S YOURS. WHOEVER DEVOURS THIS WILL GAIN ONE OR TWO TRAITS OF WHAT HORACE ONCE WAS. //
"...So how do I use it?" he asked.
// FEED IT TO ONE OF YOUR EGOS. //
"...Would Starlight be able to handle it?"
// YES. BUT WAIT A WEEK. THEY'VE ALREADY EVOLVED TWICE. PUSHING THEM AGAIN TOO SOON COULD BREAK THEM. //
"Understood."
He placed the orb gently into his inventory, the faint burn on his palm ignored.
Without a word, Snow turned forward. Though the boulder had vanished, the path beneath his feet remained — invisible, yet stable. With each step, golden light flared beneath his boots, illuminating a walkway only he could see.
"...All that's left now is to visit Mom and Pops."
The breeze stirred. Leaves rose. And like a passing wind, Snow's form flickered — and disappeared.
Two days later.
Snow stood alone in front of two graves, a white flower in hand.
He wore a simple black shirt, slacks, and polished shoes. His dark hair was neatly tied back. A single elegant earring hung from his left ear, catching the light of the sun above.
The gravestones bore the names of his father and stepmother.
Despite everything, neither he nor his sister had ever resented their stepmother. She had been kind, sincere, and truly tried to be a mother to them — even though she wasn't their blood.
Their father, once hailed as one of the world's greatest scientists, had married her after divorcing their biological mother. She was brilliant in her own right — a researcher who had dedicated her life to creating miracle medicines using rare herbs and dangerous poisons pulled from the depths of dungeons.
Then... one day, they were gone.
Officially, it was a car accident. But Snow had always suspected otherwise. His instincts told him the truth had been buried. Powerful people had wanted them gone.
In their will, they had left everything — their research, their companies, their legacy — to both siblings. Equally.
But love had made Snow foolish. He had lost everything. Arguments turned into fights. Even his sister — the one person he had once trusted above all — had stood on the opposite side.
They hadn't spoken since.
"...I hope... someday, you'll let me see you again," he murmured.
And with that quiet wish hanging in the air, Snow knelt, placing the flower gently on the stone. A moment of stillness followed — no words, no movement.
Visiting his father and stepmother's graves...
It was the least Snow could do.
The cemetery was quiet, save for the wind whispering between marble stones and swaying trees. As he knelt down and placed fresh white lilies beneath the engraved names, a single raindrop fell. Then another.
The skies began to mourn with him.
Snow didn't flinch.
He slowly lowered himself further, his knees sinking into the wet earth as the drizzle turned into a gentle downpour.
"...Father. Mother," he said softly.
His eyes lifted to the etched portraits on the tombstone—faces frozen in time, smiling as if they still watched over him.
"It's been a while... I'm sorry I couldn't visit more often."
His voice was barely above a whisper, trembling.
"I've been busy. Things have been... chaotic. And I..."
The words choked in his throat. His shoulders shook.
"I'm scared, Dad..."
He hung his head.
"Mom... what should I do?"
The rain poured harder now, almost as if nature itself was trying to drown out his pain.
His body trembled under the storm, but he didn't move.
"I don't know if I'm doing the right thing... or if I'm even doing anything right."
Tears blended with rain.
"This burden... this responsibility... it's more than I can handle."
His voice cracked.
"How am I supposed to save the world... when I can't even figure out who I am?"
His sobs were lost in the roar of the rain, as if the heavens themselves swallowed his sorrow.
For thirty long minutes, he cried in silence.
Then, slowly, he stood.
The air was cold. Heavy. But his expression had steadied into quiet resolve.
"...I don't know if I'll be able to come back here again," he said.
"I might not live up to everything that's been placed on me... I might fail."
He bowed deeply toward the grave.
"But still... please watch over me, Father. Mother."
He remained there for several more minutes, staring at the gravestone in the rain. Until—
The rain stopped.
Snow blinked. Looked to his side.
A black umbrella had appeared above him.
The scent of expensive perfume. The click of high heels on wet stone. A sleek, black car parked nearby.
A woman stood beside him.
Her silver hair shimmered like starlight, cascading down her back. Her red eyes—too similar to Snow's—gazed silently at the grave.
She was beautiful. Too beautiful for her age. Though she appeared no older than forty-five, time had barely touched her. Elegance dripped from her like silk—gown, heels, diamonds. A living icon.
Snow didn't look at her directly.
But she stared at him, unmoving. Waiting.
"...It's been a while," she said quietly.
"I'm sorry. This is my first time... visiting them. And you."
"Utler," she continued, now speaking to the man buried beneath them, "I know we had our differences... but I hope you'll allow Snow to return to me."
Snow's eyes finally lifted.
They were cold. Sharp. Unforgiving.
"...And what makes you think I'd go with you?" he asked, his voice like steel.
Her lips trembled with a weak smile. "So the hatred still burns that deep..."
"...Why are you here?" he said after a long silence.
He knew her well enough to understand—she wouldn't waste time unless something big had happened.
"To bring you home," she said.
"You've lost your damn mind."
"...If not for me, then for Aura's sake."
Snow's eyes darkened. The storm that had passed returned inside him.
"Don't you dare use her as an excuse."
His voice thundered as he slapped the umbrella from her hand.
"I know how much you cherish her," she said calmly, though her hand trembled slightly. "I wouldn't be here otherwise."
"You need to come home with me."
Snow froze.
A new expression crossed his face—shock, confusion, anger all at once.
"...What did you do to her?" he demanded.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, his grip harsh.
"Let go—you're hurting me!" she winced.
"Answer me!!"
His eyes began to glow with a faint light. A dangerous light.
"I didn't do anything!" she shouted. "I'm not that kind of mother! I would never hurt my own children!"
She shoved him away, panting. Both stood, tense, as if locked in a silent war.
Then she said it.
"She's... losing her light."
Snow's entire body went still.
"...What?"
"It started two year ago," she continued, her voice cracking. "She's been slipping further and further away. I've tried everything. I'm scared, Snow... I'm scared she'll end up doing something that can't be undone."
Snow's breath hitched.
He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I know I have no right to ask you this... not after what I did. But please—just come home. For Aura."
Snow said nothing.
Only walked toward her slowly.
"...Alright."
He didn't look at her. He didn't speak another word. But that single word held all the weight in the world.
A few hours later, they arrived at the airport.
After changing into dry clothes, Snow followed the procedures quietly, mechanically.
He didn't speak to her.
He didn't need to.
His mind was elsewhere.
The world knew her as a queen. A legend.
Benedith Bloodfallen.
The Silver Heiress.
An unrivaled actress. The epitome of beauty, grace, and power. A name known in every corner of the world.
But to Snow, she was no legend.
She was the woman who shattered their family.
She cheated on his father. Left him. Abandoned her children.
Claimed they would only "hold her back." Took half of everything he built and married her lover within months.
That man—an entertainment tycoon—died a few years later. She inherited it all.
With her fame and money, she became the third richest matriarch in the world—behind only the Rothschild and Ishaq families yet in the span of few years has surpased rich family in the world with the MIRRORFELT behind the bloodfallen in rank.
She built an academy to train young Awakeners. Funded dozens of hunter guilds.
The world called her The Woman of Wealth.
Her presence dominated media, fashion, entertainment, and politics.
But to Snow, she was still just Benedith.
The woman who left him behind.
After a long flight, they arrived in Spain—
A country bathed in wealth and history, home to iconic figures, elite Hunters, and political titans.
Snow said nothing, his expression unreadable as he quietly took his seat inside the sleek black vehicle that had come to pick them up in secret. The silence lingered during the short drive, broken only by the soft hum of the engine. Soon, the car rolled to a stop in front of an enormous building—more mansion than house, its sheer size making it look like something out of a royal estate.
The doors opened, and both Snow and his mother, Benedict Bloodfallen, stepped out. Her maids were already in motion, moving their belongings to the designated rooms after a short welcome greeting by them.
"She's not home at the moment," Benedict said as they entered the vast foyer. "She should be at the guild. I suggest you get some rest before we talk about what's going on."
"What exactly is wrong with my sister?" Snow asked immediately.
Benedict froze. Her lips trembled, hesitant. She knew Snow—how easily his calm could crack into a fury. She prayed, silently, that it wouldn't come to that.
"She... she's being bullied," she finally said. "At her guild."
Snow's eyes widened slightly. "What?"
"The guild is called Lakan Guild," Benedict continued, her voice low. "They're one of the top-ranked guilds on the continent now. Their contributions during the Chaos—your Chaos—put them in the spotlight. I invested in them heavily."
Snow's tone sharpened. "And have you spoken to their guild leader?"
"I did," she said, frustration seeping through her elegant demeanor. "They claim there's nothing they can do unless she terminates her contract. And that would cost an exorbitant fee."
"I offered to pay it," she added bitterly. "They refused, spouting some ridiculous excuse. I filed several complaints with the Hunter Association, but they claimed there wasn't enough proof. I sent them proof, and still, nothing was done."
"I see." Snow lowered his head slightly. His voice was calm, but his eyes were storming.
"I suppose it really was beyond your reach," he said quietly. "You don't understand the world hunters live in."
Benedict's gaze dropped, guilt flashing across her face.
"Do you know their guild leader?"
"I do."
"Name."
"Henry Lakan. He's the Brother of Oxlo Lakan—President of the Spanish Hunter Association."
"...Send me the details," Snow said. "And have someone take me to the guild."
"What do you intend to do?" she asked, anxiety creeping into her voice.
Snow offered her a soft smile. "Nothing much. Just checking on my sister."
Benedict didn't believe him for a second. She had raised him before the divorce. She knew that look in his eyes.
"Al—" Before she could say more, her phone buzzed in her hand. She picked it up.
"What is it?"
"Turn on the news," a voice on the other end said.
Alarmed, she rushed into the living room and grabbed the remote.
—This is breaking news from the Lakan Guild Headquarters! A person has been spotted on the rooftop of the Lakan Building— the reporter announced urgently.
—The figure appears to be a teenage girl with blue hair, captured by an NNC News drone—
—Authorities are on the way, and we hope the situation can be resolved peacefully—
Snow's heart dropped. "Do you know where that is?"
"Y-Yes," Benedict stammered, pale with dread.
"Good."
In an instant, Snow placed a hand on her shoulder—and with a burst of light, they disappeared.
They reappeared at a packed crossroad, where emergency vehicles and a growing crowd had already gathered. Without a word, Snow vanished from Benedict's side, leaving behind only a blur.
Up above, a blue-haired girl stood at the edge of the rooftop—then fell.
Time seemed to stop.
Before her body hit the ground, a masked figure appeared beneath her in a blur of movement. He caught her gently in his arms and hovered in the air. Gasps echoed through the crowd.
The girl—bruised, battered, and unconscious—lay limp in the stranger's hold. Her injuries had been covered with makeup, but not well enough to hide from Snow.
"Aura..." he whispered. His voice cracked, anguish pouring through the single word.
Then, the air shifted.
A storm of murderous intent exploded from Snow. The very atmosphere bent to his will. All who stood nearby dropped to their knees in terror. Every camera, drone, and phone shattered with an audible crack. The earth itself trembled.
And then—he vanished.
No one could follow where he went.
—---
Back at the mansion, Snow appeared in the middle of the room, carrying Aura in his arms. Benedict rushed to them.
"Lay her here," she said, guiding him to the master bedroom owned by AURA.
"I've called the doctor," the butler announced. The man was older, stern-faced, and silent, his presence giving away a past steeped in shadow.
Moments later, a medical expert entered and began to tend to the girl without delay.
"I want everything you've got," Snow said.
Benedict could barely speak. His fury was stifling, radiating from him in invisible waves. She had hoped for a peaceful resolution. That hope had shattered the moment she saw her daughter on the news.
She remembered how close Snow and Aura had once been—like twins born from the same soul. Whenever one was hurt, the other wouldn't rest until justice was done. It was that same loyalty that had once driven a wedge between them.
Aura—bright, cheerful, and razor-sharp—had always protected her brother, even from those he trusted. She'd opposed his relationship with his lola who was ones her bestfriend believing the she was bad for him. They clashed—argued, insulted, and in one unforgettable moment, fought so violently that a scar now marked the edge of Aura's forehead.
Snow had never forgiven himself. That memory haunted him—a symbol of guilt and shame. Since then, he couldn't face her.
And now, this was their reunion.
"I didn't want it to be like this..." he muttered under his breath.
But it didn't matter anymore.
Benedict returned with a flash drive in hand. "Here. Everything you need is on this."
Snow took it without a word. His expression was dark, cold, resolute.
Benedict said nothing more. She too had reached her limit. The moment her daughter stood on that rooftop, everything changed.
As Snow turned to leave, the temperature in the room dropped. His fury was silent, but heavy—like a storm waiting to break.
Everyone could feel it in their skin.
---------------------------------------
To be continued...