Camilla's clones shimmered, merging back into one as the rest of her duplicates vanished in a soft flash of light. She held up her hands in a calming gesture.
"Whoa, calm down, Kafka." She said soothingly. "It's not what you think. She's not actually being devoured. She's just in the bedroom right now and her wish was—"
But Camilla didn't even get to finish.
Kafka was already gone.
He bolted through the hallway like a man possessed, his footsteps echoing down the marble floor.
"Mom!" He shouted, panic lacing his voice. "Where are you?!"
He reached the door to her room and grabbed the handle, only to freeze as strange noises drifted from inside.
"Ah, no, don't, please lick me there!" Came Abigaille's breathless voice. "It tickles! No, you too, stop it, you can't go in there, that's a private place! H-Hey! Oh, you're snuggling there as well? Come on, you really can't leave me alone, can you? Ah, stop biting me there, please don't bite me, it tickles so much!"
Kafka's eyes went wide, his brain flatlining.
He blinked once. Twice.
Then, without thinking, he slammed the door open.
"Mom, what the hell is going om—"
He stopped dead in his tracks.
The words died in his throat.
Because the room was overflowing with kittens and puppies, dozens and dozens of adorable little critters.
The floor was carpeted in soft fur and tiny paws, the air full of mewls and playful yips. The bed was a living mountain of fluff, a rolling sea of adorable chaos.
And right in the middle of it, lying like a serene queen in a pile of furry affection, was Abigaille herself.
Her eyes were half-closed in bliss, her hands buried in soft fur as the tiny creatures climbed over her, licking her face, her arms, even her hair. She looked like she was bathing in a living blanket of cuteness.
Kafka just stood there, dumbfounded.
And when Abigaille finally noticed the sound of the door slamming, she blinked, lifted her head, and then her face lit up.
"Kafi!" She gasped, her voice bursting with relief. "You're alright! You're really alright!"
Before he could respond, she jumped off the bed, well, tried to. The floor was so full of puppies and kittens that she had to shuffle, sidestep, and half-dance her way through them.
"Oh, excuse me—no, not you, move, sweetheart, ah! Careful!"
By the time she reached him, she practically leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly.
"Oh, Kafi, my dear sweet boy, my baby boy, you're really alright!" She said in a rush, her voice trembling. "I thought something happened to you, after last night…with all those crazy things going on, my mind was all over the place. But seeing you standing here, it's such a relief."
Kafka, though still processing the avalanche of kittens behind her, slowly wrapped his arms around her and hugged back, rubbing her back gently.
"I'm fine, Mom. Really." He said softly. "Just…overwhelmed. Too much divine chaos for one night."
Abigaille pulled back slightly, scanning his face, worry still etched in her expression.
"You're sure? You're not forcing yourself up or pushing through a fever or anything?"
He chuckled lightly. "No, no. I'm fine. Just fainted from information overload, I guess."
She smiled warmly, her eyes soft. "You and your dramatic fainting." She teased lightly, brushing his hair back.
"But I know what you're talking about. You probably want to ask me how I'm taking the news, right? About who you are and all that serious, boring stuff."
Kafka hesitated. "…Well, yeah, I mean—"
Abigaille cut him off with a small scoff, grinning.
"Oh, don't bother, Kafi. I already said the same thing to your mother last night. No matter who you are—god, mortal, or something in between, you'll always be my baby boy. That's never going to change."
Kafka felt something tighten in his chest. Hearing those words—the same kind of love he'd received when he first arrived in this world, unearned yet unconditional—made his eyes sting faintly.
Even though he loved his family equally and cherished each of them deeply, Abigaille still held a special place in his heart. She was the first person he met in this world, the first to show him what genuine warmth felt like, the first to treat him as a son and let him experience what a mother's love truly meant.
So to hear her say those words now, to feel her acceptance even after everything, was profoundly heartwarming. It filled him with a quiet, almost overwhelming gratitude—because in that moment, he knew that no matter what he was or what he became, she would still see him as her child.
He swallowed hard, smiling despite himself. "You really don't change, do you, Mom?"
Abigaille's smile softened. "That's because love doesn't need to. It just grows."
Without saying another word, Kafka pulled her back into his arms, hugging her tightly. Abigaille blinked in surprise, then melted into the embrace, wrapping her arms around him as her cheek rested against his chest.
The soft mewling and gentle barks filled the air like a lullaby—until Camilla's voice ruined the peace.
"I told you to calm down." She said dryly from the doorway. "But nooo, you had to charge in like some superhero trying to rescue your mom. Honestly, Kafka, do you ever listen?"
Kafka turned around, still holding Abigaille close in his arms, her hair brushing his chest. And there they were, his entire family, crowded in the doorway, watching with wide smiles and varying levels of amusement.
Nina leaned lazily against the doorframe, her armor gone now, replaced with casual clothes. She gave him a knowing smirk. "You really are a mama's boy, huh? Especially when it comes to Abi."
Bella nodded furiously beside her. "Uh-huh! You always treat her like she's some delicate little baby."
"She's a perfectly capable adult woman, you know." Camilla folded her arms, her grin playful. "But there you are, storming through the house the moment you hear a noise, like she's in mortal danger."
Kafka scowled. "That's because she is a baby!" He said defensively, lifting Abigaille into a full-on princess carry.
Abigaille yelped in surprise, her cheeks flushing, but she didn't resist. She simply melted into his arms, giggling softly as she hugged his neck.
Kafka went on, voice firm and utterly serious.
"You don't even know the number of times she's done something so ridiculously gullible it gave me a heart attack. She's way too nice for her own good!"
He turned to Nina and pointed at Abigaille dramatically.
"Just last week she chased down a purse thief, ran through the market like a lunatic, to get some old grandma's bag back. And when she actually caught him, she tackled the guy so hard he broke his arm!"
"What?" Bella gasped. "No way!"
"Oh, it gets better." Kafka said, rubbing his forehead like he was reliving the pain. "Instead of calling the police like a normal person, she helped him up, carried him to the hospital, paid for his checkup, and then gave him a heartfelt lecture about how his mother would feel if she found out her son was stealing."
Camilla's eyes widened, half in disbelief, half in admiration. "You're kidding."
"I wish I was." Kafka said, shaking his head. "And somehow, after all that, he actually changed! He apologized to the old woman, did his time, and promised he'd go straight. I'm not even joking. That's what she does, she makes criminals repent by her overwhelming energy."
For a moment, there was silence. Then Bella clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling.
"Oh my god…she's a saint!"
"She's not a saint, Bella. She's an angel." Nina laughed, shaking her head. "A walking ball of sunshine wrapped in human form."
Olivia smiled warmly. "That's just like Abi." She said softly. "Always helping others, no matter what. That's why she's my best friend."
"Now I understand why you love her so much, Kafka." Camilla leaned closer, smirking. "She's literally impossible not to love."
Even Vanitas, who had been watching silently, finally spoke, her voice calm and full of quiet awe.
"I've lived long enough to see mortals come and go…but she truly is something rare. If I am the incarnation of vanity…" She said with a gentle smile. "…then Abigaille is the incarnation of everything good left in existence."
All those compliments made Abigaille's face turn bright red. She hid her face against Kafka's chest, her voice muffled.
"You guys, please stop! I just helped someone who needed it. You don't have to make it sound like a miracle!"
"No, actually." Kafka's expression deadpanned. "Stop complimenting her"
"Huh?" Everyone blinked.
"All of you are encouraging her right now." He sighed, exasperated. "Sure, it all ends nicely, but she's always risking herself like that. Half the time I'm the one panicking because she's too busy playing guardian angel!"
"She's supposed to be taking care of me, but it's always me taking care of her!"
Abigaille pouted, lifting her head slightly. "Kafka, that's not fair—"
He gave her a stern look.
"Quiet. From now on, you're staying by my side. No more running off, no more reckless heroics. If I have to carry you everywhere to keep you safe, I will."
Abigaille blinked, her pout softening into a tender smile. Then, to his utter defeat, she giggled and snuggled even closer, resting her head against his chest.
"I don't mind at all." She murmured sweetly. "If my dear son carries me everywhere like this, I'll be the happiest mother in the world."
Kafka's irritation cracked; a small, helpless smile tugged at his lips.
Behind them, however, the rest of the girls started pouting immediately.
"No fair! I wanna be carried too!" Bella's wings twitched.
"Right? He never picks us up like that." Camilla crossed her arms.
"Tch. Guess being a saint has its perks." Nina rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her jealous smirk.
Even Vanitas, arms folded, looked away with an pitiful little huff, clearly jealous but finding it hard to say it.
And seeing this, Abigaille giggled softly against him.
"Looks like you're in trouble again, sweetie."