Angela shrieked, grabbing onto Angel, her grip tightening around her arm.
"What happened?!"
Angel remained calm, watching.
[My baby!!!]
Angela blinked, her body stiffening.
"What—what is it?"
[He… he…]
Angela leaned forward, releasing her sister as she edged closer, her body tilting as if she might fall into the screen itself.
"He what??"
[He took his first steps! My little Max-y called me Mommy!]
Angela froze.
"…Oh."
Onscreen, Nina rushed forward, lifting the child into her arms, covering him in frantic kisses.
Angela's body slackened.
Her hands dropped to her sides as she sank back into her seat.
Her head tilted upward, eyes drifting past the screen.
Above her, the space stretched endlessly into darkness.
No ceiling, no visible end—only depth.
Within that depth, the Tree's leaves spread in vast, layered clusters, overlapping and shifting softly.
They filled the void like something alive.
Their faint glow wove through the darkness in uneven patterns—dense in some places, thinner in others.
Angela stared into it, unmoving.
She said nothing.
The silence lingered.
Angel nudged her.
"What's wrong?"
"She… reminded me of Mother," Angela admitted.
"Cold, sharp, untouchable—until it comes to family. Then everything melts."
Angel gave a small nod.
"I thought the same."
The screen dimmed. A new header appeared.