"Bear, take a seat at the table," Ceres said gently, glancing at Orso who was sitting cross-legged on the floor near the dining table. They were just about to begin lunch.
His lips didn't move, but his eyes smiled in that way only he could.
"I'm okay, Mother. I'll only break the chair," Orso replied softly.
"But I don't like eating while you're down there like some guard dog. Tofu can conjure you a seat," she smiled, turning to Tuf who was lounging casually at her left.
"No," Tuf said flatly.
"Hey, mister," Ceres shot back, raising an eyebrow. "Is that how your father raised you? To be rude to your older brother?"
"First of all, I didn't grow up, this is already what I was when we crossed over to Solmara. Fully formed perfection. Bear's the one who grows and shrinks," Tuf said with a bored shrug. "And even his smallest version is still three times bigger than anyone here."
He propped an elbow on the table, expression unimpressed.
"Second," he continued, "if I conjure a seat for him at the table, he'd dwarf everyone. We'd be the ones looking awkward. Better he stays where he is. He likes it. Especially that corner, look at him, he's practically royalty in a palace of pillows. All he's missing is a parasol and he'd be Sinbad."
He rolled his eyes with exaggerated flair.
Ceres gave him a warning look just as a heavy glass flew straight at Tuf's head.
Thunk.
It hit squarely, bounced off, and shattered against the floor. Tuf didn't flinch.
Orso's expression remained neutral. But his eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
Ceres was mildly shocked, then laughed softly, shaking her head.
"But I'm still not comfortable with it," Ceres murmured, standing up abruptly.
Tuf was on his feet in an instant, already beside her before Legion could take a step. His glare at the knight said don't even think about it. Legion, jaw clenched, could only ball his fists at his sides.
"What now?" Tuf asked, a trace of concern slipping into his voice.
"If Bear can't sit with us at the table…" Ceres said, eyes warm as she looked at Orso. "Then we shouldn't eat at the table either. Let's go outside. In the Empress Garden. Like a picnic."
Tuf and Orso both lit up like boys offered candy.
Tuf immediately snapped his fingers toward the hall. "Comet!"
The tall shadow appeared instantly.
"Prepare the Empress Garden. Picnic setup. Now."
"Yes, Master," Comet said with a courteous bow before vanishing in a whisper of shadows.
They were halfway down the palace corridor, heading to the garden, when they crossed paths with Aurelian, accompanied by Celion and Sir Draven.
"Empress," Aurelian greeted, leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek.
Two feral growls echoed, one from Tuf, the other from Orso.
Aurelian ignored them.
"Going somewhere?" he asked, eyes glancing over their little entourage.
"We're having lunch in the Empress Garden," Ceres replied, reaching for her composure despite the tension radiating off the two men beside her. "Have you eaten yet? Join us."
As she turned to continue walking, Aurelian reached for her hand to hook into his arm,
"Don't," she mouthed, shooting a glare toward Tuf, who was already inches away from mauling him.
"If you insist, then I will not refuse," Aurelian said with a smile that was both charming and reckless.
"Mother is not insisting, you pest," Tuf growled.
"Stop," Ceres warned, her voice sharp and low as she separated them with a look that could freeze fire.
"I do insist," she added in a lighter tone, "You should try Comet's cooking. If the nymphs' food was divine, this is ten times better."
When they arrived at the Empress Garden, everything was perfectly arranged.
A wide woven mat spread out over the soft grass, surrounded by velvet pillows. A low table sat in the middle, elegantly laid out with plates of food and enchanted glasses that shimmered under the sun.
Celion and Sir Draven swallowed hard as they cast side glances at Orso. His sheer size made even seasoned knights feel like ants. And yet, the gentle way he moved around Ceres told a different story.
"Tofu?!" Ceres suddenly shouted, spinning just in time to see Aurelian flying across the garden, his body landing on the grass with a solid thud.
Tuf was standing where Aurelian had just been, smug, arms crossed, unapologetic.
"What? He was going to take my seat," Tuf said with a shrug.
Ceres pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing deeply.
This was her life now.
Surrounded by territorial sons, flying nobles, and enough tension to ignite the whole garden.
"Don't retaliate," Ceres said firmly before Aurelian's fist could make contact with Tuf's face when he suddenly reappeared beside them.
"Whoever ruins my lunch can leave."
The threat in her tone silenced them both. Tuf and Aurelian glared at each other but said nothing, choosing instead to stew in their mutual dislike.
"Hey, Bear," Tuf called out lazily, not taking his eyes off Aurelian. "You didn't notice that mosquito buzzing around Mother? Next time, swat it before it lands."
He plopped down beside Ceres and made a dramatic show of getting comfortable.
"Aww, aww, aww…"
Ceres twisted his ear sharply.
"I said stop. And don't be so dramatic. As if that actually hurt. You weren't even fazed when Luna turned you into ground meat."
Tuf grinned, eyes dancing with mischief.
"Mother, this is emotional damage. It's ouchy in my heart," he said in a childish voice, clutching his chest like he'd been mortally wounded.
Ceres rolled her eyes, though she couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at her lips.
"We're just making sure no insects touch you," Tuf added with mock sincerity. "Father wouldn't like that."
Ceres smiled at the mention of Zeus and shook her head. Of course he wouldn't.
After a few more sharp glares from Ceres, aimed at Tuf, Orso, Aurelian, and even Legion, who had all taken turns trading veiled jabs and quiet insults, the tension simmered down enough for them to finally begin eating.
A few peaceful moments passed.
"When is Delphine coming back?" Ceres asked, picking at her food.
"She should be returning today, Mother," Orso answered from behind her, seated at a respectful distance. Despite his size, she could still see him clearly over her shoulder.
"She and Father made a deal. She'll accompany Pixie for five days, and in return, she'll fulfill your request without asking for anything. Of course, that was before Father realized it was you."
Ceres nodded slowly, but a thought tugged at her.
"I don't remember Pixie," she said in a low voice, turning to Tuf. "You think this is still part of Lucifer's trick?"
She remembered every name Tuf had mentioned before, Alpha to Vivi, but not Pixie. Not the youngest.
Tuf gave her a small, knowing smile.
"No, Mother. You wouldn't remember Pixie... because you've never met her."
Ceres's brows furrowed slightly.
Tuf continued, "It was Father who found her, where you were resting. He brought her to the shelter."
Ceres relaxed slightly, comforted by the explanation. At least there was no missing memory, no tampering. Just another piece she hadn't known.
And with Zeus revealing Velrathis to the world, they were more certain now that Luna was the loophole in his contract with Lucifer. But certainty didn't mean safety. Not with someone like him.
Playing a game with the Devil without caution was an invitation to annihilation.
And Ceres didn't believe for a second that Lucifer was doing all this just out of boredom.
No… this was calculated. A performance crafted with purpose. Too elaborate to be random.
Her thoughts were broken when Aurelian placed a handful of grapes onto her plate.
Before she could even thank him, Tuf reached out and popped them into his mouth.
"Thanks, pest," he said casually to Aurelian, who glared but said nothing.
Ceres sighed.
"Anyway," she began, trying to reroute the conversation. "Did you need something from me, Duke? You seemed rather serious earlier."
Aurelian nodded. "With the Black Tower now visible to all of Solmara… the other kingdoms have reached out. They're requesting a summit. All royal families. They want me to attend, and they're asking I bring Seiryu."
He paused.
"I came to inform you. Seiryu is yours, after all."
Ceres's eyes narrowed slightly. She leaned back, her gaze drifting toward the looming shadow of the Black Tower in the distance.
Velrathis was no longer hiding. The world had seen its crown.
"When is the summit?" Ceres asked, her tone calm but unreadable.
"Three days from now," Aurelian replied. "It will be held in Pyrrathis."
Ceres fell silent for a moment, thinking. Then her eyes flicked toward Tuf.
"When will you fulfill your promise to the nobles, and to Captain Hugo?"
"Everything will be delivered after lunch today," Tuf answered as he casually placed a slice of meat on Ceres's plate. "Also, Father is throwing a banquet for you ten days from now. Invitations have been sent. Some of them are already with that mosquito over there."
He nodded toward Aurelian with a smirk.
Ceres gave a slow nod.
"Forget the summit then. It's obvious what they want to talk about, all the whats, whys, whens, and hows about Velrathis. Focus on the nobles. Start preparing to stabilize Aquilonis's economy. And send personal invitations to the top three noble families of each kingdom."
Her eyes drifted toward the Black Tower behind them.
"If they have questions, the best person to answer them… is the man in that tower," she said sweetly, then looked back at Aurelian. "Don't waste your time entertaining speculation."
Then she turned her gaze to Legion, Celion, and Sir Draven before returning it to Aurelian.
"And make sure everyone attending that banquet knows to be on their best behavior," she said coolly. "He's a very patient man. But he has no patience for fools."
The subtle bite in her voice sent a ripple of tension through the air.
Tuf grinned. His brows wiggled in amusement as he caught the sharp clenching of Aurelian and Legion's jaws in realizing how much the Empress knows about the Demon Lord's personality.
Lunch continued with lighter talk, but beneath the surface, the unease was palpable. Aurelian and Legion mostly kept to themselves, quiet and brooding, while Ceres, seemingly unaffected, spoke freely, sharing small, fragmented memories of things the Demon Lord had done for her in her past life.
There was warmth in her voice. A softness in her eyes that neither Legion nor Aurelian had ever drawn from her.
And perhaps she knew the way her words dug deep into their pride… or perhaps she didn't care.
She had warned them, many times.
That what they shared was necessity, nothing more.
That they should guard their hearts, because she would not accept them, nor would she feel responsible for what they chose to offer her.
They were nearing the end of their meal when a sudden stillness swept across the entire capital of Aquilonis.
Every citizen, every knight, every servant paused, eyes turned upward.
Even from the far edges of the city, they saw it.
A vessel had emerged from the invisible barrier guarding Velrathis.
At first, it was small against the horizon.
But as it glided forward, slow and deliberate, it grew in size… and kept growing… until it darkened the sun itself.
Its sheer enormity cast a looming shadow over the capital.
People could only gape in silence.
"What is that?" Ceres asked, rising slightly from her seat.
"That," Tuf said proudly, lips curving into a smirk, "is a Leviacron. My version of an airship."
Ceres raised an eyebrow. "Do you pay taxes for that thing?"
Tuf groaned dramatically. "Ugh, don't remind me. For your information, I'm the biggest taxpayer in Velrathis. They're robbing me blind. And on top of that, I have to support a bunch of freeloading siblings who only act nice to me when they want something."
His grumbling didn't match the sparkle in his eyes.
"Do you know they always gang up on me?"
Ceres laughed softly and reached out to ruffle his hair. "Maybe because you probably tease them too much."
"What?! How could you say that?" Tuf exclaimed with mock offense, which only made her laugh harder.
But their playful exchange paused as the Leviacron finally hovered directly above the Empress's Palace.
Its presence was impossible to ignore.
Suddenly, a shout echoed from above.
"You cheating golden retriever!!!"
Everyone looked up.
From the deck of the colossal Leviacron, two young figures were gliding down through the air.
The boy landed first, smoothly balancing on a sleek, rune-inscribed skateboard. He had tousled blond hair, a lean build, and looked no older than fifteen. A sheepish grin stretched across his face as he straightened up.
The girl landed a second later, clearly fuming. She looked about twelve, with ombre hair that faded from deep black to snowy white, and vibrant violet eyes that burned with irritation.
"That win doesn't count! You cheated!" she snapped, crossing her arms.
"No, I didn't!" the boy shot back. "You said the signal was when you said go! And you said it, so I went!"
They glared at each other, clearly in the middle of a heated argument over a race neither was willing to lose. The tension between them was almost comedic.
"Ahem," Orso cleared his throat meaningfully.
Both of them froze mid-glare and looked toward him. Orso didn't speak, he simply tilted his head slightly toward Ceres, eyes calm and watchful.
The moment they followed his gaze, their playful hostility vanished.
Their eyes widened.
Their postures stiffened.
Then, almost in unison, their faces crumpled with emotion.
Ceres, on the other hand, stood frozen. Her breath caught in her throat.
She knew them.
"Milo...? Vivi...?"
She took a slow step forward, her voice trembling. Tears welled and spilled as memories surged in.
Milo, he had been just a puppy when she found him in her past life, abandoned under the scorching sun on a lonely road, barely breathing. She'd rushed him into her car, cranked the AC, and drove straight to the shelter. After weeks of recovery, the gentle, clever dog emerged, a bit wary of strangers, but endlessly warm toward other animals. She named him Milo. Loyal. Friendly. Golden like the sun.
Vivi… she'd met her five days before Christmas during a visit to a children's orphanage. While helping decorate the tree, one of the children discovered a tiny Siamese kitten buried in the snow. It wasn't moving.
Ceres had rushed to the little body, cradled it in her arms, and took it inside. She had warmed it by the fire, refusing to give up hope. Then, just when she thought it was gone, it meowed. Loud and angry.
She'd laughed through tears, surrounded by clapping, hugging children.
She left the kitten there so the kids could have a playmate, naming her Vivi, for she had been so lively.
But joy didn't last. One boy, troubled and violent, began hurting the kitten. Again and again. Even when Ceres gently tried to reason with him, the abuse continued. In the end, to protect Vivi, and the other children who started fighting to defend her, Ceres took her to the shelter.
Now here they were, no longer animals, but children. Breathing. Alive.
"Hey, rascals! Did the cat get your tongue?" Tuf called out impatiently, narrowing his eyes when the two remained silent, just staring at Ceres.
"I'm a cat!" Vivi suddenly shouted, her voice cracking with emotion.
"Don't scold them," Ceres chided Tuf gently, her hand brushing his arm.
"They're being disrespectful," he muttered, baffled by why he was the one being told off.
But Ceres just smiled at the two children. She stepped closer and ruffled both their hair affectionately.
And that was all it took.
They broke.
"Mother!" they cried in unison, voices raw and trembling.
They rushed into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably as they wrapped themselves around her waist as they collided into her, holding them tightly, her own tears now streaming freely.
The rest of the group remained silent, giving them space. The nobles and workers who had gathered near the palace, drawn out by the Leviacron's arrival, stood at a distance, watching in awe.
"Hey Vivs, stop crying. Your snot is dripping," Tuf teased after a moment, glancing sideways at his little sister still crying in Ceres's arms.
"No, it's not!" Vivi snapped back, though she still sniffled hard, clearly trying to suck it back in just in case he was right.
Without needing to be asked, Comet quietly stepped forward and handed Ceres two handkerchiefs. She accepted them with a grateful smile, briefly wondering just how many of those he carried around all the time.
Gently, Ceres wiped away the tears streaking down Vivi's cheeks and then turned to Milo, whose face was still buried in the crook of her neck.
"Mils, bro. Why are you crying, man? I told you, tough men like us don't cry," Tuf said, grinning at his younger brother with mock bravado.
"I'm not crying," Milo mumbled. "Something got in my eye."
He still refused to lift his head, his arms clinging tightly around Ceres as if afraid she might disappear again.
"You say that like you didn't cry yourself," Ceres said, raising an eyebrow as she glanced at Tuf.
"I did not cry," Tuf declared, straightening up.
"Right. You didn't cry, you bawled." she replied dryly, rolling her eyes despite the tears still sparkling in them.
Milo, his face finally lifting, pulled a handkerchief from his own pocket and, with a soft expression, gently dabbed the tears from Ceres's cheeks. The small gesture made her smile again.
"Mother, you're ruining my reputation," Tuf said, almost scandalized.
"What's wrong with crying?" Ceres replied, raising her brows. "Real men cry. Ask your father. It's a compliment. Even Bear cries."
"Bear doesn't look like it, but he's a marshmallow," Tuf huffed. "He cried when that flower he'd been raising for months died, and he couldn't revive it. Waaait…!"
Tuf quickly threw one arm up in front of him, pointing at Orso before he could land another slap on the back of his head.
"You heard her! She said it's a compliment!"
Ceres could only shake her head at them, her heart full, as she turned back to Milo and Vivi and cupped their faces.
"I missed you both so much," she said softly, brushing strands of hair from their faces.
"Anyway…" Tuf said after a moment, tilting his head. "Why are you two here? I didn't get a message. Did something happen?"
He glanced at Comet, who silently shook his head, equally surprised by their unannounced arrival.
"Experiment," Milo answered simply. "Father's doing one."
"Yes," added Vivi quickly, before anyone could ask for more details. "And I think this is the right time." She glanced at Ceres. "Excuse me, mother."
She turned away from them and raised one hand, moving it in a slow, controlled circle. A pulse of magic followed, then another. And before their eyes, a portal began to swirl into shape, glowing with a strange but steady energy.
Even the nobles and workers who had kept a respectful distance now started to drift closer, drawn by the thick magical pressure in the air. They could feel it, this was not a common portal.
And then, someone stepped through.
The first figure was a demon who looked strikingly similar to Comet, though his aura was softer, his demeanor kind and open. He bowed in Ceres's direction without saying a word, almost as if to test the safety of the environment before allowing others through.
Then another figure emerged.
Not as massive as Orso, but tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding quiet authority. His very footsteps seemed to calm the air around him.
"Alpha," Ceres breathed, her heart clenching.
She'd recognize those calm, patient sapphire eyes anywhere.
He didn't speak, but the joy in his gaze was unmistakable. It had been lifetimes, and yet… there was no hesitation in his recognition of her.
Then another stepped through.
This time, a tall woman with an athletic build, nearly as tall as Tuf. She had an easy strength to her, and a familiar glint in her eyes.
Ceres remembered her instantly.
A doberman pinscher. One who used to smile the widest every Halloween and Christmas at the shelter, especially when they dressed her in goofy little costumes.
"Nugget," Ceres whispered, voice trembling.
Nugget lifted a hand in greeting. She tried to hold her composure, but her glossy eyes betrayed her. She swallowed hard and stood beside Alpha, forcing herself not to run forward. Not yet.
Then the fourth figure stepped out of the portal.
A girl with amber hair and curious amber eyes, no older than eighteen. She looked so much like Zeus, only softer, feminine, and full of sass. But unlike Alpha and Nugget who stayed near the portal in disciplined silence, this girl didn't hesitate.
The moment she saw Ceres, she sprinted.
She ran straight into her arms, throwing herself against her with a sob. Ceres caught her easily and held her close, her heart bursting at the familiar presence.
"Pea," Ceres whispered, her voice shaking.
At the sound of her nickname, Peanut clung to her even tighter, her shoulders trembling.
"Neko," Ceres said softly, her gaze shifting to the fifth figure stepping through the portal.
He was just a few months younger than Peanut, and now looked like a lean seventeen-year-old boy with windswept orange hair. But even in this human form, Ceres could still see the water-loving Maine Coon she once smuggled out of the shelter just to take surfing with her in California.
He walked up to her calmly, his orange eyes sharp but warm. Then, without saying a word, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek.
"Come on, bro," Tuf said with a teasing grin. "Cry. There's no shame in crying."
"Tough men don't cry, asshole," Neko muttered, but his voice cracked slightly near the end.
Everyone noticed. He was trying hard not to cry.
A ripple of movement came as yet another figure emerged from the portal.
"Cecilion!" Celion called out to his younger brother the moment he appeared, with Renee and Robin right behind him. Relief washed over Celion's face. "You're safe."
"Luna almost killed them," Neko suddenly announced, sharp as ever.
"Neko?!" Peanut, Nugget, and Alpha barked in unison. Their warning voices were sharp, and so were their glares.
"What? It's true. And it was Tofu's fault!" he argued.
The three Saintess Knights bowed quickly. "Your Highness. Your Majesty," they greeted in unison, addressing both Ceres and Aurelian.
But Ceres's attention had already shifted.
Her face softened completely when she saw the next one to emerge.
"Delphine," Ceres said warmly, her smile blooming with unrestrained joy.
But Delphine wasn't alone.
She carried a small girl in her arms, her face hidden, tucked into the curve of Delphine's neck.
"Your Highness," Delphine greeted gently, stroking the child's back. "It's okay, Regent. I promise. She will like you."
"Pixie?" Ceres called out, her voice turning honey-sweet, soft and coaxing.
A collective gasp echoed from the watching nobles and palace workers.
Because when the child peeked up from Delphine's neck, her face shyly revealed, there was no mistaking it.
She was the spitting image of the Empress.
From her long silken hair to the vivid gold of her eyes, even the shape of her lips, it was like seeing a tiny mirror. Whispers broke out. Murmurs. No one could deny the truth of what they were seeing.
The child belonged to their Empress.
Ceres raised both arms toward her, waiting, but not rushing her. She didn't want to scare her.
Pixie hesitated. Her face was flushed, clearly embarrassed by her attention. But then came a soft nudge from Tuf.
"Go on, Pix. It's okay," he said gently.
The other siblings nodded encouragingly.
Pixie looked back at Ceres, cheeks pink, eyes shimmering. And then, she lifted her arms.
Ceres stepped forward and scooped her up like she was always meant to, holding her tightly to her chest.
"Mama," Pixie whispered, so softly only Ceres could hear.
"Yes, baby?" Ceres asked, her tears returning.
Delphine wiped them for her, quiet and smiling.
"Nothing," Pixie giggled, burying her face in her shoulder. "I just wanted to call you that."
"You can call me that anytime," Ceres replied, kissing the top of her head. "Always."
Then, the next figure stepped out.
Luna.
Her gaze met Ceres's, and slowly, she shook her head.
No words were needed.
This… had been Zeus's experiment.
To see if his children could find her. If he could follow. But Luna's expression told her everything she needed to know.
Something was stopping him from crossing.
And yet… Ceres smiled.
Because now, they knew.
He was close.
He was near.
And that was enough, for now.
But before she could speak, a single hand… began to reach through.
Ceres waited.
She held her breath, eyes locked on the portal, hoping, praying, aching to see him emerge.
But then… the hand made a gesture.
No.
Her chest tightened. Her body froze.
Slowly, she handed Pixie back to Delphine, pressing a kiss to her cheek with trembling lips. Then, with her heart pounding so loudly it felt like everyone could hear it, she stepped toward the portal.
But the moment she got closer, she felt it.
An invisible force. A barrier. An energy that stopped her from going any farther.
No matter how desperately she tried, her feet wouldn't move.
It was as if the world itself was saying you can't.
So, she did the only thing she could.
She reached for his hand. That familiar hand. The one that had held her so many times, lovingly, protectively, possessively.
She clasped it between both of her own, brought it to her lips, and began to sob.
Her tears fell freely, soaking the warmth of the palm she longed to hold forever.
"Tsk," Tuf moved instinctively and caught Milo and Vivi by the shoulders before they could step forward. "No. Let her be," he said quietly.
Delphine turned her face away, unable to bear the sight. Her heart shattered, not only for her Empress, but for a secret she must take to her grave. A secret that bound her to this pain in silence.
And then Zeus moved.
From the other side, he pulled her hand toward him.
Still, she couldn't cross. She couldn't even lean in further. But her eyes widened when she felt it.
His lips. Warm, familiar, soft.
A kiss on her knuckles.
Tears streamed down Ceres's face again.
He lingered for a moment, as if trying to memorize the feel of her skin, her warmth… then slowly, she felt something being pressed into her hand.
He squeezed her fingers once, firm, meaningful, and let go.
When she pulled her hands back through the barrier, she found a folded piece of paper in her palm.
She opened it.
A small laugh broke through her tears as she read what was written.
"You haven't changed, you're still insane," she muttered, half-laughing, half-crying, staring at the portal like she could see him.
Then she wiped her tears, steadied her breath, and turned to Vivi.
"It's okay now, Vi," she said gently.
Vivi nodded, and with a soft motion, closed the portal.
Then Ceres turned to face her children, because that's what they were. It still felt surreal, especially since aside from Pixie, they looked more like siblings than offspring. But in her heart, they were hers.
Hers and Zeus's.
She smiled.
"What can I say?" she whispered, arms outstretched. "Except… Welcome to Aquilonis, my loves."
And that was all it took.
The moment the words left her mouth, they rushed toward her in a wave, laughing, crying, shouting her name. Hugging her. Kissing her cheeks. Wrapping their arms around her like they'd waited a thousand years to do so. Because they did.
"Mama!" Pixie called from Delphine's arms, reaching for her again.
Ceres turned just in time to catch her and lift her into her embrace.
"What did Papa tell you?" Pixie asked, her big golden eyes blinking curiously.
"Oh, that?" Ceres chuckled and glanced around at her brood. "He said, 'Co Parenting rules. Adults have curfew. Home after dinner. Especially the peacemaker and the troublemaker.'"
All eyes turned instantly toward Tuf.
He blinked. "Oh, come on!" he protested, throwing his hands up. "What kind of unfair profiling is this?!"
"Only the adults?" Pixie asked with innocent curiosity. "So… I can stay?"
Ceres nodded. "Yes. Only the adults. If you want to, you can stay here with me."
"Yes!" Pixie shouted with joy, nodding with all her might.
"So we can stay too?" Milo and Vivi chimed in eagerly.
"And me," Neko added with a hopeful grin.
"Also me," Peanut said.
"No, you can't," Nugget cut in sharply. "You're eighteen. You're an adult."
"Hey! I'm just a few months older than Neko!" Peanut protested.
"Doesn't matter. Still an adult," Nugget said matter-of-factly.
"You're just saying that because you can't stay," Peanut accused, narrowing her eyes.
"Good thing you know," Nugget huffed, crossing her arms.
And just like that, they were all bickering in front of their mother.
Ceres didn't even try to stop them. She just smiled, eyes soft and overflowing.
Her heart was full.
They were here.
They were real.
And they were home. Well, halfway home.