Minutes later, Aegypt returned—now in shorts and a sports jacket.
"Grandfather, I'm going out for a bit," he said as he laced up his running shoes.
Antonio frowned. "Where to?"
"For a jog," Aegypt answered curtly.
"Aren't you tired?" Antonio asked, half concerned, half skeptical.
Aegypt smirked faintly. "I am. But I'm more tired of hearing you talk about marriage and death."
Antonio fell silent, only watching as his grandson disappeared through the front door.
Outside, two of Aegypt's men stood guard near the gate.
He stopped in front of them.
"I'm going out. Watch this house—and protect my grandfather," he ordered firmly.
"Yes, sir," they responded in unison.
Aegypt checked his watch. It's only eight. I'll be back by ten.
Without another word, he started running along the sidewalk.
The city was still alive—bright lights, rushing cars, distant chatter.
His footsteps echoed against the pavement, a steady rhythm of escape—from his home, from his past, from everything weighing on his mind.
---
After several minutes, Aegypt reached a large city park.
Streetlights bathed the trees and benches in warm light, and food vendors lined the paths—selling satay, meatballs, grilled corn, and ice cream.
He stopped for a moment, opened a bottle of water he'd just bought from a nearby store, and took a few long gulps.
Exhaling, he sat on a bench, letting the cool night breeze brush his face.
Not far away, a young couple sat side by side.
The girl's eyes sparkled as she stared at Aegypt.
"Wow… that man's so handsome. Tall, muscular, and—mmh—just perfect," she whispered dreamily.
Her boyfriend scowled immediately.
"Babe! Don't compliment another man. I'm your boyfriend, not him!"
Aegypt's sharp ears caught the entire exchange.
He smirked faintly, adjusting his jacket.
Well… they're not wrong. Thirty-five years on this earth, and no one's ever called me ugly, he thought smugly.
But suddenly—
THUD!
Something small crashed into his leg. A child had run straight into him.
The boy fell hard, and his ice cream splattered onto the ground.
Silence.
Aegypt and the boy stared at each other.
The child's lip trembled—then—
"WAAAAHHHH!!!"
He burst into tears, loud and shrill. Heads turned in every direction.
Aegypt panicked. He crouched down quickly.
"Hey, stop crying! You're making everyone look at me like I'm some kind of criminal," he said hurriedly, his words stumbling over each other.
The boy stopped for a moment, sniffling, frowning up at him.
What's this uncle even saying? Does he have a broken tongue or something? Whatever. My ice cream's gone. He has to fix this!
"WAAAAHHHH!!!" he cried even louder.
"Hey! Enough!" Aegypt said, more clearly this time. "Just tell me what you want."
Instantly, the boy's tears vanished. His expression flipped into a bright, cunning grin.
"Really, Uncle? I can ask for anything?" he said eagerly, eyes sparkling.
Aegypt sighed inwardly. Great. Outplayed by a kid.
The boy put his tiny hand on his chin, pretending to think deeply.
"Hmm… what do I want…" he murmured, eyes darting left and right in exaggerated thought.
A few seconds later, his face lit up.
"Ah! I just want ice cream. You have to replace the one I dropped!" he declared proudly.
"What? You ran into me, and now I'm the one at fault?" Aegypt protested incredulously.
"Come on, Uncle. Don't talk too much. Let's go buy ice cream!" the boy said cheerfully, grabbing Aegypt's hand without hesitation.
"Huh?!"
Before Aegypt could react, the small hand tugged his large one firmly, pulling him toward the vendor.
They walked together toward the nearby ice cream stall.
"So, what's your name?" Aegypt finally asked, glancing down at the confident little boy.
"My name's Athan!" the child chirped proudly, chin raised high.
Aegypt muttered under his breath, "Just wait. I'll tell a priest to complain to God about that name."
---
Meanwhile, at another part of the park, a young woman returned after answering a phone call.
Her face went pale when she saw the empty bench.
"Athan? Athan, where are you?" she called out frantically, scanning the area.
Several passersby turned to her.
"What's wrong, miss?" asked a young man.
"My son's missing! I only stepped away for a phone call, and when I came back—he was gone!" she said, her voice trembling.
"Oh dear," gasped an older woman nearby. "Don't worry, dear. We'll help you look."
"Thank you—thank you so much," the woman said, tears glimmering in her eyes.
The crowd quickly dispersed, searching every corner of the park for the missing boy.
---
Elsewhere, Aegypt walked with long strides, glancing down at the little hand still clutching his pinky tightly.
Why is he still holding on to my finger? And why am I still here? I should've left the moment he stopped crying, he thought, annoyed.
Meanwhile, Athan happily devoured his new, obviously expensive ice cream.
Wow, this uncle's rich! he thought gleefully.
They walked side by side, lost in their own thoughts—until a loud shout shattered the air.
"THAT'S THE KIDNAPPER! CATCH HIM!!!"
Aegypt's eyes widened in shock.
He looked ahead and saw a young woman—Athan's mother, Abel—running toward him, her face a mix of terror and fury.
Behind her came a group of men and women from the park—charging like an angry mob.
"What the hell—?!" Aegypt exclaimed, stunned.
He turned to Athan, who was still licking his ice cream, oblivious.
"Uncle, why are they running like that? Oh—do they want ice cream too?" Athan asked innocently.
"No, you idiot! They think I kidnapped you!" Aegypt snapped, horrified.
"What?!" Athan froze, his mouth hanging open—then slowly turned toward his furious mother sprinting straight at them.