The table around us blurred. The wine, the food, the empty chairs… none of it mattered. It was just us.
Just life. Just survival. Just hope. And in that moment, I felt something I hadn't felt in years: relief.
Somewhere between the tears and laughter, I realized it wasn't just about me anymore. It was about us. All of us.
And for the first time since waking in this world again, I allowed myself to hope.
To believe.
To want.
Again.
Even Kael and Zeref, usually so composed, were shaken. Their hands stayed on me longer than necessary, grounding, holding, forgiving. And I let them.
I let the tears fall, the hiccups shake me, the raw, messy, chaotic release pour out. Because this… this was the life I'd fought for.
This was Zethara, breathing again.
I barely had a chance to catch my breath before the sound of heavy boots clanging against the cobblestones cut through the haze of my crying.
