Youri stood there motionless—Lira had died. The last person he could call family, gone just like all the others, and now he was truly alone. He wanted to cry, but no tears would come. Knox raised his hand toward him and said, "Youri, right? I came here for another reason besides letting you know about Lira's death. I want you to come with me. Now that you are alone, I can take good care of you—and I'm obligated to, since I already purchased Day Light. Will you come with me?"
Youri looked into Knox's black eyes. Deep inside, he sensed another meaning behind the man's words, a shadow he could not name. Yet in his situation, there was only one choice he could make. "Thank you, Mr. Knox," Youri replied, taking his hand. A wide grin spread across Knox's face as he guided Youri into the car.
The drive to his house was long. They passed far beyond Talion, into the outskirts where the city faded into dense nature. A lonely house emerged there—surrounded by thick greenery and towering trees that enclosed the property in a dark, serene embrace. Their deep green leaves contrasted with the perfectly trimmed lawn stretching forward like a velvet carpet. The garden itself was a carefully crafted design, each curve of the hedges deliberate, guiding the eye toward the mansion.
It rose like a Victorian monument—stone walls, tall narrow windows, ornate frames, steep slate-gray roofs, and turrets that added a subtle gothic charm. The symmetrical façade showcased large bay windows, and below them, broad steps led to a heavy dark-wood door flanked by sculpted plants.
Now standing before the house, Knox opened the door and invited Youri in.
Inside, Youri was struck speechless.
The entrance hall glowed under soft golden light. A stunning wooden staircase wound upward, its banister carved with intricate patterns, polished to a warm sheen. The golden-toned walls complemented the dark wood beautifully. Above, an elaborate ceiling medallion framed a chandelier whose crystals cast soft, warm rays across the room.
Below, an ornate rug stretched across the floor, its vibrant patterns tying the space together. The walls, lined with carved wooden panels, matched the staircase in richness. A cozy sitting area nestled near the stairs—leather armchairs, deep red curtains, framed portraits, and antique furnishings—all breathing the house's aged charm.
Knox guided Youri into the living room.
Towering black walls carved with delicate moldings surrounded a massive hearth, almost ceremonial in its grandeur. Flames flickered within, casting amber light over shelves filled with old books, brass ornaments, and strange relics gathered over time.
Deep crimson velvet drapes cascaded from arched windows nearly reaching the ceiling, their heavy folds matching the luxurious Persian rugs below. Reds and golds swirled in intricate patterns, softening the polished black floor.
Dark plush armchairs and a matching sofa circled a large leather coffee table. Their deep navy tones were enriched with wine-red cushions. Youri sat on the sofa; Knox sat beside him.
"This is my house," Knox said. "I hope you'll like it. Feel free to look through the books—took me years to collect them. They're from all over the universe. I'm sure you'll learn countless tales."
"Thank you, Mister Knox," Youri replied.
Knox smiled and clapped his hands once. "Now, I'll show you to your room."
They climbed the staircase into a long hallway. Soft golden light spilled from brass fixtures above, their glow warming the herringbone-patterned floor. A richly woven runner stretched down the hall, its deep reds and greens blending with the walls and dark wood trim. Against one wall stood a slender table holding a small lamp; farther down were two closed doors. Knox led Youri to the third door at the end.
Inside, deep blue walls rose into shadowed recesses of the ceiling where lamplight barely reached. Heavy drapes framed tall double doors that opened to a balcony. Near the foot of the bed sat a tufted velvet settee in a soft blue, its curved legs and brass trim rich with old-world luxury.
A worn rug spread across the floor, reds and blues blending beautifully with the furniture. The bed itself—arched upholstered headboard, patterned pillows, dark layered bedding—looked impossibly soft. A velvet throw of midnight blue spilled from one side like poured ink. On the bedside table, a beaded-fringe lamp cast a warm halo across the room, illuminating florals and the edge of a vintage book.
Knox presented the room to Youri—it was lavish, almost unreal. A few minutes later, Knox stepped out, having received a call concerning business.
Youri stood alone now in this new home—a home he had never imagined. He approached the bed, pressing his hand against its soft layers, testing the mattress with a gentle bounce. A small smile tugged at his face. He had always imagined the moment he would leave the orphanage.
But the smile faded just as quickly. Memories of Lira, of Emma, of Liam, of laughter echoing in Day Light's hallways—everything rushed back all at once. Tears finally came.
He may have had a soft bed now, and a grand new house—but no one was there to share this moment with him. His small family was gone. And the weight of that loneliness crushed the young boy's heart more deeply than anything before.
Knox returned to the house shortly after; evening had settled in, and the time for dinner had come. He headed upstairs to Youri's room and invited him down. In the dining room, at the center, stood a long polished table, its surface reflecting the warm glow of the chandelier above. Around it, high-backed chairs upholstered in a regal wine-red formed a precise, almost ceremonial ring.
As the two took their seats, a woman entered carrying several dishes. Knox glanced at her as she arranged them neatly on the table. "Thank you, Anastasia," he said before adding, "Oh, and I'd like to introduce you to our guest. He'll be staying with me from now on. His name is Youri. Youri, this is Anastasia."
Anastasia bowed slightly. She appeared to be in her mid-forties, her neatly gathered ginger hair complemented her calm brown eyes. Once all the plates were set, she quietly left the room.
Knox lifted his glass, sipping his wine. "So, Youri, do you like your room?"
"Yes," Youri replied. "It's very good."
Knox smiled. "I'm glad to hear that."
They continued their meal in comfortable silence—until a sudden crack of thunder shook the air. For a brief second, the lightning illuminated a structure outside: a sealed basement, its metal bindings glinting sharply. From within, a faint yet agonizing cry came—muffled by the storm's deafening roar.