I'm falling.
No—not falling.
Floating.
In darkness. Endless, infinite darkness. No stars. No light. No up or down or sideways. Just... void.
Where am I?
Is this death?
Is this what comes after?
I try to move. Can't. My body isn't here. Or maybe it is, but I can't feel it. Can't feel anything except awareness. Pure, isolated awareness in an ocean of nothing.
Then—
Light.
Far away. Tiny. A pinprick in the distance.
It grows.
Becomes a star.
Becomes a sun.
Becomes something else entirely.
The light takes shape.
A figure. Humanoid. Made of radiance so bright it should blind me, but somehow I can look directly at it. Somehow I can see.
It's a woman.
Beautiful. Beyond beautiful. Her face is kind and sad and joyful all at once. Her eyes looks like it hold galaxies and Her smile holds universes.
She's holding something.
A baby.
Tiny. Fragile. Wrapped in cloth that glows with the same light as her.
She's crying.
And smiling.
Crying and smiling at the same time, looking at that baby like it's the most precious thing in all of existence.
Behind her—another figure.
Also humanoid. Also made of light. But different. Darker. Not evil, just... other. A void given form, watching the woman and the baby with something like longing.
The void figure reaches out.
Touches the baby's face.
And the baby—tiny, newborn, barely alive—smiles.
The scene shifts.
Same figures. Same light. But now the void figure is holding the baby. The woman is gone.
The void figure looks at the baby.
Cries.
Tears of light falling onto tiny cheeks.
Then it speaks.
Words I can't understand. A language older than languages. But somehow—somehow—I feel the meaning.
Grow strong.
Grow fast.
They will come for you.
And I won't be there to protect you.
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.
My son.
Scene sifts.
The void is gone.
Only remaining a figure. I don't know if its that baby from there.
Beside him a beautiful young lady standing.
They're happy.
The scene shifts again.
Now I'm somewhere else. A place I recognize.
Aventic.
The C Block.
I'm a child. Three years old. Standing in a corridor that shouldn't exist, in a place I've tried so hard to forget.
Something's wrong.
The walls are bending. The floor is cracking. Lights are exploding.
"Te**p**a* ex***d**"
People are running every where.
I forgot why or don't want to remember about that place.
In the center of it all—
A creature.
Made of darkness. Made of void. Made of the same stuff as the figure in my dream.
It's looking at me.
Reaching for me.
And I'm not afraid.
I'm not afraid at all.
The creature's hand touches my face.
And suddenly I'm not three anymore. I'm seventeen. Twenty. My age now.
Standing in the same corridor, but different. The creature is gone. The chaos is gone. Everything is quiet.
In front of me—
A door.
Simple. Wooden. Ordinary.
I reach for the handle.
"Master!"
A voice. Pulling me.
"Master, wake up!"
Another voice. Desperate.
The door fades. The corridor fades. The dream fades.
I'm back.
In my room.
In my body.
In pain.
Hands on my head.
Gentle. Careful. Stroking my hair in a way that makes the pain fade, makes the fear fade, makes everything fade.
Just like her.
Her?
Who am I thinking of?
My breath speeds up again. Panic rising.
Two hands—different hands—press against my shoulders. Steadying me. Grounding me.
"M£-#+£+£"
Words I can't understand. Voices I can't place.
But slowly—so slowly—the world comes back.
Sounds clarify.
"Master, please. Master, breathe. Master, we're here. We're here."
Angy's voice. Crying.
"Master, come back. Come back to us. Please."
Shenhe's voice. Also crying.
Crying?
They're crying?
I force my eyes open.
The first thing I see is Angy's face.
Red-eyed. Tear-streaked. Beautiful and broken and so scared.
Then I feel it.
Drops on my hand. Warm. Wet.
Her tears.
Falling from her eyes onto my skin.
What's going on?
Why is she crying?
For me?
No.
No no no.
No one cries for me.
No one ever cried for me.
No, But they did. Always.
Like it's their sole responsibility in life.
A blurry smile flashes before my eyes.
From the dream. The woman made of light. Her smile as she held that baby.
It's familiar.
So familiar.
Like someone I knew.
Like someone I lost.
Like—
I can't hold it. The memory slips away like water through fingers.
But the feeling remains.
Grief.
And love.
And longing for something I can't name.
"Master. Master. Master."
They're sobbing now. Both of them. Saying my name over and over like a prayer, like a plea, like the only thing in the world that matters.
"Hey." My voice comes out as a whisper. Scratchy. Weak. "You two."
"Don't you dare speak now, Master!"
Shenhe's voice. Sharp with fear. Still sobbing.
I look at them.
I don't know them very well. Not really. They appeared in my life when I was three and just... stayed. Maids. Caretakers. Companions.
We've never talked about anything important. Never shared anything real.
So why?
Why are they crying like I'm something precious?
Father, you didn't even cry for me.
When Mom disappeared, he didn't cry.
When I almost died on missions, he didn't cry.
But these two—strangers, almost—are crying like the world is ending.
"You're still thinking some weird stuff, aren't you, Master?"
Angy's voice. Shaky. But trying to tease. Always trying to tease.
"Don't think too much, Master. We're here for you."
She clings to me. Arms wrapped around my shoulders, face pressed against my neck, tears soaking into my skin.
I don't know what to do.
I want to say something.
My throat hurts too much.
"You're so perv, Master."
Shenhe's voice. Flat. But also—something else. Something softer underneath.
"W—" I try to speak. Nothing comes out.
What did I even do?
Why is she calling me that?
I cough.
Shenhe is gone. Footsteps running downstairs. Then back up. Then—
Five bottles of water.
She's holding five bottles of water.
You dumb.
Who's going to drink all that?
I try to say it. The words won't come.
She gives me a glass anyway. One at a time. Patient. Careful.
Angy stands in the corner, watching. Thinking. Whatever's going through her head, only she knows.
Hours pass.
Faster than they should.
One moment it's morning. The next, they're leaving to make lunch. The next, I'm alone.
I move my legs.
Slowly. Carefully.
The pain is fading.
Finnally.
That thing is going away.
I hate it.
I hate it.
I HATE it.
Every time it happens, I feel like I'm dying. Every moment stretching into forever. Every breath a battle. Every heartbeat a question: is this the last one?
And every time I faint, I see things.
Creatures. Shapes. Things that shouldn't exist.
Things that maybe do exist, somewhere, in places I can't reach.
"Master! Lunch is ready!"
Their voices from downstairs. In sync. Like always.
I didn't know Shenhe could be this energetic. Every time I talk to her normally, she gives me cold answers. Short. Distant. Like she's saving her warmth for something else.
But now? Shouting from the kitchen? Sounding almost... happy?
Her blue eyes.
I don't know what they're trying to see inside me.
But they're always watching.
Always.
Knock on the door.
"Master, can we enter?" Shenhe's voice.
"Yes. You can."
They come in.
Each carrying plates. Multiple plates. Covered in food.
So much food.
"Angy." I stare at the mountain of rice. "What is this?"
They don't look confused at all.
Angy stands tall. Proud. Like she's accomplished something great. Shenhe is behind her—her usual position—back to her normal cold self.
"Master." Angy gestures grandly at the food. "You know what this is?"
"Food?"
"Yes! Food!"
"M-Master." Shenhe hesitates. "We know that you eat too much when you have these panic attacks...."
I look at the plates again.
Ten bowls of rice.
Ten.
"Are you two idiots?"
I sit up on the bed.
"Okay." I sigh.
"Can we three finish this together? Because I can't do it alone."
Their faces light up.
Like I've given them a gift.
"Yes, Master!.
In sync. Always in sync.
"Thank you for the food."
I press my hands together. Close my eyes. A habit from childhood, from before the missions, before the killing, before everything.
"Let's eat, guys."
"So." Angy picks up her bowl. "White rice today, huh?"
"Yeah." I look at mine. "I'm not used to white rice."
"Yes, Master, but..." Angy pauses. "We ran out of golden rice. That's why. And, by the way, Master—" she grins, "—it's white like Shenhe's hair."
"But I guess Master likes rice in my hair color." She tosses her blonde locks dramatically.
"Big sis." Shenhe's voice flat. "You don't have golden hair."
Huh, comparing rice colour with hair? What type of nonsense it's this....but what should I say.
It's them for a reason.
"Oh, come on, Shenhe! Blonde and golden are kinda similar, you know!"
"By the way, Master." Angy's tone shifts. Serious now. "We should eat together from now on. Every day. It's so fun eating together."
Together.
I wonder when I last ate with family.
Ah.
That's right.
Twelve years ago.
Mom and Dad were happy. So were my sisters. All of us around a table, laughing, talking, sharing food and stories and love.
Even though time is irreversible... I want those days back.
The days when everyone had time for everyone.
The days when coming home felt joyful, not like walking into a jail.
If someone could send me to the past—if they asked me to choose between going back and staying here—
I'd go back.
In a heartbeat.
But alas.
Even if I wanted to go back in time... that just means going to another timeline. Another parallel world. Either way, it's the same thing. I'd still lose them. Still lose that moment. Still lose everything.
"Master. Master. Master."
Angy's voice. Calling me.
I blink. Look at her.
"Are you okay, Master?"
"Yes." I say it softly. "I just missed home."
"Master." Shenhe's voice. Quiet. Firm. "This is home. Even if you don't think it is... we'll make it one someday. A paradise. For you."
"For us"
I look at her.
"Sure." I smile. "We'll see about that."
A pause.
"But Shenhe... I wasn't talking about a place."
Because I wasn't.
Home isn't a location. It's not a house or a village or a country.
Home is a feeling.
A place where everything feels warm. Alive. Cheerful.
Where people care about you. Where you matter. Where you're not just a soldier, not just a weapon, not just someone who kills monsters.
And somehow...
These two are giving me that.
Without me even asking.
Without me even knowing I needed it.
I close my eyes.
"Home, huh?" My voice is barely a whisper. "Yeah. Sure. We'll make one someday."
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