They stepped out of the restaurant into the late afternoon light.
Cars passed lazily down the street. A group of teenagers laughed near a bus stop. Somewhere nearby, music played faintly from an open window. The world felt ordinary. Too ordinary.
Samira walked beside him, arms loosely crossed, studying him with open curiosity.
"So," she began, "why have I never heard of you? Someone that strong doesn't just go unnoticed."
Zephyr kept his hands in his hoodie pockets and continued walking without looking at her.
"Because I'm not as strong as you think."
Technically true.
One percent.
The thought tasted bitter.
Samira frowned. "Not as strong? You created a black hole the size of a stadium. That's not 'not strong.' What guild are you from?"
He stopped walking.
Slowly, he turned his head toward her.
"It was just a buff," he said calmly. "A temporary power increase. It triggers at unpredictable times. I don't belong to any guild. Or organization."
The lie came smoothly.
He didn't have much choice. Explaining that he had spent a century in another world slaughtering horrors while leveling up under a cosmic system would sound slightly unhinged.
Samira narrowed her eyes.
"A random buff," she repeated. "That conveniently activates when you're surrounded by fifty demons."
"Lucky timing," he replied.
She didn't look convinced.
After a moment, she lowered her head slightly, her tone softening.
"…I see."
They resumed walking.
A breeze rustled through the trees lining the street.
"But," she continued, glancing at him, "you didn't even know what shekels were. You looked lost in that forest. If you're not familiar with the area… do you at least have somewhere to stay?"
Zephyr blinked.
Stay. Right.
Humans didn't sleep under trees anymore unless something had gone very wrong.
"…No," he admitted after a short pause. "I had some memory issues. I don't remember much."
That part wasn't entirely false. His brain was still rearranging two timelines that refused to fit neatly together.
Samira covered her mouth in shock.
"What? In 2034 a grown man forgets where he lives?" She stared at him. "That's weird. Really weird."
She let out a short, awkward laugh.
He didn't respond.
She took a few more steps before realizing his footsteps had stopped.
She turned around.
Zephyr stood frozen in place.
Not confused.
Terrified.
"Hein? Relax," she said quickly, misreading his expression. "If you don't have anywhere to go, you can stay at my place for now."
He didn't react.
His eyes were distant.
"What year did you say it was?" he asked quietly.
Samira's smile faded slightly.
"…2034."
Silence.
The number echoed in his mind.
He had been summoned in 2033.
He had spent one hundred years in another world.
Fighting. Surviving. Killing. Growing stronger.
And Earth had moved forward…
One year.
His breathing grew shallow.
One hundred years there. One year here.
That meant—
His family. His mother. His little sister.
They were still alive.
They hadn't aged into distant memories. They hadn't died thinking he had been gone for a lifetime.
Only a year.
His chest tightened painfully.
Samira stepped closer, her voice cautious. "Hey… are you okay?"
He swallowed.
He remembered his sister's laugh. The way she used to complain when he ate the last snack. His mother calling him useless while secretly leaving extra food on his plate.
He had thought they were long gone.
Buried in a past he could never return to.
But if it had only been a year...
His hands trembled slightly inside his pockets.
Samira studied him more carefully now.
"You really don't remember anything?" she asked softly.
He blinked once, pulling himself back.
"…I remember enough," he murmured.
Enough to know he had something worth protecting.
Something worth staying alive for.
The street noises returned to his ears. The wind. The distant laughter.
Earth. Still standing. Still home.
Zephyr lifted his head slightly, eyes clearer than before.
"Where do you live?" he asked quietly.
Samira hesitated, then pointed down the street.
"Ten minutes from here."
He nodded once. One percent of his power. Demons roaming again.
And his family still breathing somewhere in this city.
The universe had dragged him back whether he wanted it or not.
Fine. He would deal with it.
But this time..
This time, if he fought, it would be for them
They stopped in front of an enormous gated courtyard.
Zephyr tilted his head back slowly.
Beyond the iron gates stood a sprawling estate. Perfectly trimmed hedges. A fountain carved from white stone. And at the center, a grand manor that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a billionaire's ego.
He blinked once.
"This is where you live?" he asked flatly. "So you're secretly rich."
Samira let out a shy laugh, scratching the back of her head.
"My family is… influential," she said lightly. "Hehe."
Influential was one way to put it.
The gates opened automatically as they approached. Zephyr glanced around, noting security cameras discreetly placed along the walls. Armed guards near the entrance of the manor.
He said nothing.
They walked across the courtyard, gravel crunching beneath their shoes. The mansion loomed closer, its windows glowing warmly in the fading daylight.
But instead of heading toward the massive front doors, Samira veered off to the side.
Toward the back of the property.
Zephyr frowned.
"…Why aren't we going inside?"
She didn't answer immediately. She just kept walking until they reached a smaller structure tucked behind the estate. It was modest but well-kept. A compact, separate house hidden in the shadow of the manor.
She pulled out a key and unlocked the door.
"No," she said softly. "I live here."
Zephyr stared at the small house, then back at the towering mansion only a short distance away.
He had questions.
Many.
But something in her posture told him not to ask yet.
They stepped inside.
The interior was simple. Clean. Functional. A small living room, a compact kitchen, two bedrooms. It felt… independent. Like someone trying to prove something.
Samira tossed him a folded set of clothes.
"Go shower first," she said casually. "You probably still smell like forest."
He glanced down at himself.
Fair.
The shower felt unreal.
Hot water cascaded over his skin, steam filling the small bathroom. He stood there longer than necessary, just letting it run over him. Washing away dirt. Washing away tension.
When he finished, he stepped out in the new clothes she'd given him. Comfortable. Casual.
A few minutes later, she disappeared to shower as well.
By the time they both settled onto the couch in front of the television, night had fallen. The soft glow of the screen flickered across the room. Some random news channel played in the background.
Zephyr tried to ignore the thought gnawing at him.
He failed.
"Why do you live here alone," he asked quietly, eyes still on the screen, "when your family lives in that mansion?"
Silence.
The sound of the television seemed suddenly louder.
He turned slightly.
Samira wasn't looking at the screen anymore.
Her head was lowered. Her eyes distant.
For a few seconds, she didn't respond.
Then she spoke.
"I'm the disgrace of the Bramford family."