Ray stood at the edge of the ruined castle, watching the scene before him as his body slowly began to fade. He turned back one last time, eyes resting on the figure of his master—Lucius—walking away into the distance.
He didn't know what to say.
This was the man who had brought him this far. The man who had shaped him, pushed him, and helped him reach his goal. A part of Ray felt hollow. The respect he held for Lucius ran deeper than he could ever express. And now… he was walking away.
Ray bowed low, his voice soft and polite.
"…Thank you."
Lucius didn't stop, didn't look back. He simply raised one hand and waved casually a faint smile appearing on his face.
"Take care."
The boy's eyes shimmered—those same eyes that had burned with fury moments ago now wide with emotion he didn't fully understand. He had thought vengeance would bring peace. But now, all he felt was… something else. Sorrow. Relief. Emptiness. Gratitude.
He didn't cry. He didn't move. He just stood there, watching until his master vanished.
Below, the people celebrated, singing and shouting in joy now that their nightmare had ended. But Ray didn't join them. He turned and re-entered the castle. He wasn't interested in the cheers or the praise. He ran through the halls, guided by memory, until he found the room—the one he had seen in visions before.
Inside, a chest.
He broke it open.
Inside lay a single shard—pale, greenish moving sand, flickering softly like sand trapped in glass. He picked it up, unsure what to do with it. Then a cold, ethereal voice echoed in his mind:
"Rabbit."
He hesitated. He remembered the pain of entering the void the first time. But he had endured worse since then. This… this was something he could face.
As he gripped the shard, the door behind him burst open. Felix and others stood there. They didn't speak. They just looked at him.
He glanced at them, nodding.
Then he looked back at the shard.
Sand—green, swirling sand—began to rise around him. It wrapped around his legs, his arms, his chest. But it didn't hurt. It felt… inevitable.
As his body turned into grains of green sand, a voice called out.
"Ray! We're still friends… right?"
He turned to see Bron and Aleyas standing in the doorway. Their eyes shimmered.
Ray smiled.
The kind of smile that was quiet and warm, yet filled with tears he couldn't shed.
"…Yes."
And with that, he vanished. The sand swirled into a circle, then burst outward like smoke caught in the wind.
Ray opened his eyes.
He was somewhere beyond comprehension, drifting through a vast current of green sand. Particles rushed past him in every direction. He felt no pain, only a strange stillness, as if he was being carried—not just through space, but through memory and time itself.
He floated until he reached a strange place—shards of glass, like broken windows, hung suspended in space. Inside one, a faint blue light shimmered.
Before he could touch it, three curtains descended.
Each was the same shade, but each had been cut apart from a single whole.
One by one, the curtains lifted.
Behind the first—his sword.
Behind the second—a kimono, similar to his, but shaded in a deeper purple.
Behind the third…
He smiled. Without hesitation, he stretched his hand.
His hand burned.
A mark formed—first on his hand, then winding up his arm to his neck. It shimmered like cracked glass: a broken circle, scattered and glowing faintly. Then the mark vanished. The curtains vanished. The blue light grew brighter.
He braced himself as pain shot through his body—familiar, but bearable.
And then…
He was standing.
On Earth.
He looked down—his school uniform, his old backpack. He felt the same strength he had in the other world, but… contained.
The sun was setting.
He ran—not at full speed, just enough not to stand out. Through the familiar streets, past the familiar turns. And finally, he stopped in front of his house.
He hesitated.
What would he say? What would he do?
He opened the door.
Inside, the same small kitchen. The same tiled floor. And at the stove—his aunt.
She turned, eyes widening, then softening into a smile.
"Welcome back, Ray."
Something in him cracked.
Tears fell. He smiled.
"I'm home," he said, collapsing to the floor.
His aunt ran to him, holding him tightly. "What happened to you?"
He clutched her back, his voice trembling but peaceful.
"…I just made friends. Friends that I'll never get to meet."
She held him tighter, patting his head.
"That's okay," she said gently. "At least you made them."
He closed his eyes, leaning into her arms. His voice, soft and elegant, replied:
"…Yes."
In that moment, he didn't think about the battles or the suffering.
He only knew one thing for sure:
They were truly his friends.
After some silence, I heard my aunt speaking to me with a joyful and calm voice, "It's ok now you're back home.
I buried my face on her chest, crying, my voice stuttering, " Aunt, I'm home."
She nodded, embracing me, as she sang me a lullaby.
Hearing it slowly fell asleep, feeling peace that home.