Ethan was still limping, favoring his wounded leg, but curiosity sparked brighter in his eyes than pain. Ann walked beside him along the beach, both of them scanning the horizon though they knew no rescue was coming—not yet.
Suddenly, a familiar figure emerged from the tree line. Mino moved with a calm grace, the dappled sunlight catching on his horns. In his hand, he carried something that made Ethan's eyes widen.
"My camera!" Ethan exclaimed.
He reached for it, almost stumbling in excitement. The device looked battered but intact, grains of sand clinging to its edges.
"I think I'll be able to fix it," Ethan said quickly, his voice bubbling with hope. "If we can just find a way to charge it, that is."
Ann squinted against the glaring sun and managed a smile. "We'll think of something. But first, can we please get out of this heat before I melt?"
Mino's ears flicked slightly as he studied the camera. His low, velvety voice held a curious note. "Ah, you've found your treasure."
Ethan beamed. "Yes. And if I can repair it, maybe I can even take pictures again." His gaze flicked toward Mino, an idea clearly forming.
Mino tilted his head thoughtfully. "Power is the problem."
"Yes," Ethan said eagerly. "The battery's dead. Totally useless unless I find a way to recharge it."
Mino gave a small, almost secretive smile. "Perhaps I can help with that. Come. Follow me."
Ann hesitated, glancing between her brother's excitement and Mino's unreadable expression. Something about his manner unsettled her, though she couldn't pin down why. As they entered the trees, Ethan and Mino fell into animated conversation about circuitry and power sources—an odd sight, considering one of them was a myth brought to life.
Ann lowered her voice as she leaned closer to Ethan. "Are you sure we should trust him with this?"
Ethan's face tightened with thought. "I'm not sure. But right now, he's the only one offering help. Still…" He shot a sideways look at Mino. "I think he's distracting us from something."
Distracting, or drawing them deeper.
Ethan's fingers lingered on the camera as if it were a talisman. Ann knew what he was thinking—that one photo, one proof of Mino's existence, could change everything. Fame, fortune, recognition. But right now the lifeless battery made that dream as unreachable as the world they'd left behind.
Later, as they prepared to return to the clearing, Ann's unease only grew. Every step beside Mino felt like another thread binding her to this strange world, one woven of both wonder and danger.
She stopped suddenly. "Mino… can we go back? To our world?"
His expression shifted, the teasing warmth fading into gravity. "Not yet," he said quietly. "But soon. Very soon."
Ann shared a look with Ethan. Beneath her brother's excitement flickered caution. They were surrounded by beauty, yes—but also mystery and uncertainty. The portal was their only hope, and they didn't even understand how it worked.
That night, as the firelight painted flickering shadows on the cave walls, Ann found her gaze drifting toward Mino. Curiosity pressed at her chest.
"Mino," she said at last, breaking the comfortable silence, "You're… kind of an enigma, you know?"
One brow lifted. "Enigma?"
"Well, yes. You're powerful, clearly. But you're also… normal? Kind, even." She smiled faintly. "You're nothing like the monsters in stories."
Mino chuckled, a low sound that rumbled in his chest. "Kind? Me? I am a monster, Ann."
She shook her head. "No. You're more than that. You feel, you care. You're… a person."
Something flickered in his eyes. For once, the teasing mask slipped.
"My father was a human," he said slowly. "A gentle soul. She fell in love with my mother, who was… different."
Ann leaned in, her curiosity sharpening. "Different?"
"My mother was a Minotaur," he said simply. "The Minotaur from your myths. But not the beast your world made him out to be. He was kind. Gentle."
Ann's breath caught. The pieces began fitting together—his strength, his solitude, his contradictions.
"What happened to them?" she asked softly.
His gaze darkened with memory. "My mother died when I was still young. My father left me here, to keep me safe. He came back once—wounded, fading. He promised to return, but… he never did."
Silence hung heavy. Ann's heart ached at the image of a child, half-human, half-myth, left to fend for himself in a lonely cave.
"You were alone," she whispered.
"For a long time." His voice was quiet, raw. "I didn't know how to survive. I was afraid. But I endured."
Ann swallowed against the lump in her throat. She wanted to reach for him but hesitated, the weight of his vulnerability startling in its intimacy.
"Mino…" she began carefully. "Why stay here? Why not leave this cave?"
His eyes lifted, and for a heartbeat, something ancient shimmered in them.
"Because here, I can heal," he said. "Ease the pain of others, if only a little."
"But you're not a monster," Ann insisted.
Mino gave a short, almost bitter laugh. "Aren't I?"
Ann shook her head firmly. "I used to think being important meant being seen. Famous. I was a model in New York, and I thought I had everything—success, attention. But I was miserable. No one cared about me, not really. I was just… an object."
Mino's expression softened. "Ann…"
"I walked away before it destroyed me. I didn't even know who I was anymore. And now—" she gestured around them "—I'm realizing there's more to life than flashing cameras and empty praise."
For the first time since she had known him, Mino's guarded mask seemed to fully slip. His voice was quiet, almost reverent. "You're braver than you think. To leave all that behind, to face the unknown."
Her throat tightened. "Thank you."
He gave a rare, unguarded smile. "I am glad you're here, Ann. Stay as long as you wish."
The fire crackled between them, but for Ann, it was his words that burned, leaving her both warmed and unsettled.
Because beneath the kindness, beneath the tragic history, there was still the undeniable truth: Mino belonged to a world of myth and magic. And somehow, she and Ethan were caught in it.