The next morning, I made a call. I contacted her family to inform them of Elina's death.
I had always assumed her relationship with them was strained. She rarely spoke of them, and whenever I brought it up, her responses were vague, her demeanor uncomfortable.
When they arrived, the first to step forward was her father—a tall man with steely grey hair and a grave expression etched into his face. There was something commanding about him, an aura of immense strength that clung to his presence like mist. Still, I kept my composure.
Beside him stood a younger girl, clearly Elina's sister, and a man in his late twenties her brother. Her father looked me in the eyes and spoke in a voice so sharp it seemed to pierce through the air.
"Who are you?"
I answered, steady and calm, "I'm her son."
His eyes widened slightly, confusion flickering across his face. "Her son?"
I quickly clarified that I had been adopted by Elina. Then, without another word, I led them to her room where I had preserved her body with the utmost care.
The moment her father saw her—pale, cold, motionless body lying on the bed as if merely asleep, tears burst from his eyes. For all his power, he crumbled in that instant. Her siblings rushed to his side, trying to comfort him, but the room was heavy with a silence that no words could break.
Once the mourning had settled, they called for the body to be taken away.
Later, after her brother and sister had departed, only her father remained. I handed him the will. Elina had transferred all her assets and property to me.
I didn't want to lose the home she gave me
He spent a long moment reading the documents. Then, with a nod of solemn acceptance, he spoke.
"If this was my daughter's final wish, so be it. And as her son... I will not cause you any more trouble."
Then he turned and left.
I stood there, lost in thought. What am I supposed to do now? I had no answers. No direction. I was hollow. Broken.
The next day, her family invited me to the funeral.
At first, I hesitated. Would it be right for me to attend?
But when the day arrived, I went. Dressed in a black turtleneck and coat that swallowed the light, I joined the sea of mourners.
It was my first time at a funeral. People wept, prayed, and shared memories. When it was my turn, I knelt before her grave. I didn't believe in God, and I didn't know the words that would have pleased one. But I whispered with trembling lips:
"Even with the distance of the stars, you will always be the closest to my heart. Rest in peace."
After the formalities, some of her family members approached me. They offered condolences, business cards, even invitations to join their organizations. I declined them all. I didn't even know who I was anymore, let alone what I wanted.
Days later, it was my birthday. Or so I was told by the orphanage—it was marked on the 2nd of August.
I prepared her favorite dish: steak with barbecue sauce.
When it was done, I looked at the meal, laughed softly, and cried. It was bitter and warm all at once.
As I finished eating, I sat in silence, wondering where to go from here.
The academy sent messages the next day, asking when I would return. I told them I wouldn't be attending anymore.
I wanted nothing to do with that world.
I had so much money that it could be said to be generational wealth. But that meant nothing to me.
All I kept asking myself was: What should I do?
Five years passed.and I become a care taker
Two years ago, I met a woman named Mrs. Alice while shopping. She was pregnant, her skin pale and her movements tired, yet her smile never left her face. She reminded me of Elina
I approached her. "Ma'am, can I help you with anything?"
She nodded gratefully, asking for directions to a few items. As we walked, she mentioned she was looking for a caretaker for her child. I told her I was interested.
That was the beginning.
Since then, I had been caring for her newborn daughter and her 15-year-old son, Cid. After the baby was born, I took on most of the responsibilities. The child cried often, fragile and small a tiny flame of life nestled in my arms.
She used to tug on my hair when I held her.
Cid, on the other hand, was already enrolled in the academy. His energy levels were low, but he trained relentlessly. He had to his father was an Ascender.
Life had become peaceful, even fulfilling.
It was 5:27 PM. I had already left for the day I was heading to the park were I had left car
I was able to start leaving until when I heard screaming noises
I stepped out and froze. People were fleeing from the direction of Alice's house. My heart dropped.
I ran.
When I arrived, the house had collapsed. Alice was pinned beneath rubble, barely conscious.
Without thinking, I lifted the debris and pulled her free. "Are the kids—?"
Cid emerged from the wreckage, injured, holding his baby sister tightly in his arms. "We're okay," he said, breathing hard.
In that moment I knew the source of the destruction was
A Crack.
Beast-like creatures poured from it monstrous, violent, and devoid of mercy. They were tearing through the neighborhood.
"We have to get to the car!" I shouted.
But then I remembered: it was a two-seater.
Someone would have to stay behind.
Why does this world force such cruel decisions upon me I thought.
I handed my car keys to Alice. "It's parked just outside. Take the kids. Go."
She looked at me, horror-stricken. "What about you?"
"There's no room for three," I said. "Cid can hold his sister. You need to run. Now."
She tried to protest, but I didn't let her.
"GO!"
As they turned and fled, one of the beasts leapt into their path.
It was the worst scenario that could have occurred
The beast raised it's claws ready to cut down cid and the child
But In that moment time slowed.