"They betrayed me," he whispered. "I gave everything… but in the end, I was only used. Rina and Tania… they worked together. After that, I stopped believing in love."
Lyra remained silent. She leaned slightly closer, fallen leaves resting on her shoulders without her noticing. Her emerald eyes stayed fixed on Kaivan, like a mirror that gathered every fragment of his emotions.
Kaivan spoke again, his voice heavier.
"Everything changed when I found the Tome Omnicent. That book gave me knowledge… but at a terrible price. I lost control of my own life. Even the friends I have now…" He looked at the lake, shimmering under the moonlight. "Radit, Zinnia, Thivi, Felicia, Ethan, Frans, Raphael, Livia, Isabel… I didn't choose them. It feels like the book chose them for me."
Lyra straightened her back, her left hand touching the grass. Her movements were stiff, yet gentle, giving Kaivan space to continue.
"But none of that mattered anymore after…" His voice weakened. "After Vella came. She killed my mother. Attacked my brother. And I couldn't do anything. I was too late… I failed to protect them. Now I'm afraid that if I love someone, they'll disappear again."
His voice broke completely. His shoulders shook as tears flowed down his cheeks, reddened by the cold night air. He lowered his head, trying to hide his sorrow. His hands clenched his pants, as if trying to hold back the pain eating away at him.
Silence wrapped around them. Leaves fell without a sound, covering the traces on the ground.
After a while, Lyra finally spoke in her calm yet sincere voice.
"You… have fallen in love before?"
Kaivan looked up. His tear-filled eyes met Lyra's emerald gaze. He nodded slowly.
"But I never thought about love again after that," he said softly. "I hated it. When Tania apologized, I rejected her. I thought I was right… but because of my anger, I lost control. Vella used Tania's sadness, and I lost my family."
His tears fell again. He turned his face away, but Lyra slowly moved closer. Her cold yet gentle arms wrapped around him. Her movements were awkward, like a machine learning how to touch for the first time—but from them flowed a sincere warmth.
"If you regret it," Lyra said steadily, "then resolve it… so you won't regret it anymore, Kaivan."
Her hands trembled on his shoulders, but she didn't pull away.
Under the moonlight washing over them, Kaivan slowly leaned into her embrace. His sobs burst out uncontrollably. His body shook in Lyra's arms, like a lost child with nowhere to go.
"It's all meaningless now, Lyra…" he cried between sobs. "My mother… is gone. No matter what I do, I can't change that."
Lyra didn't answer. She let Kaivan cry. She let his long-held burden melt into the cold night air. Her fingers gently brushed through his messy hair, soft like falling snow on grass tips.
In that silence, only heavy breathing and falling leaves touching the ground could be heard.
"It's okay, Kaivan… as long as you're alive, that's enough," Lyra finally said. Her voice was gentle, almost a whisper, yet filled with sincerity. She kept holding him, softly stroking his head. "Your brother is still here. And there's me… who will comfort you whenever you need."
The supermoon traced their silhouettes—two long shadows on the snowy grass, black and silver, frozen yet tender. The beauty of the night sky could not hide the sorrow in Kaivan's heart.
"I've never been able to talk about this with my friends," Kaivan murmured hoarsely. "I could never show this side of myself. You're the only one I trust. Please… don't tell the lab. Or anyone. Especially them."
Lyra nodded slowly. She stored that promise deep within her memory system—never to be erased. Her cool hand continued to stroke Kaivan's hair, and somewhere in the depths of her algorithms, something resembling affection began to grow.
After a while, Kaivan slowly lifted himself from her lap. He wiped away his tears and tried to stand straight. Lyra watched him for a long moment before speaking, her voice warmer than before.
"You're the one who gave me a chance to live," she said softly. Her lips brushed against Kaivan's temple like a breath of spring. "Your secret is safe with me, Kaivan. Thank you… for giving me a reason to live."
The night sky seemed to lower itself, covering the world in a blanket of silence. A supermoon floated high above, casting a cold light that slowly warmed the hearts of two open souls. The air no longer felt sharp—as if softened by the confession that had finally been spoken.
Without many words, they left the grassland together. Their steps were calm and steady. A black jeep waited not far away, its engine humming gently beneath the mist.
Kaivan took the passenger seat. The jeep moved slowly along the winding roads of the Caucasus Mountains. Autumn air slipped in through the window, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. Kaivan's usually composed face now looked troubled, faint lines between his brows revealing his inner conflict.
A long silence filled the cabin. Only the sound of the engine and tires crunching over gravel remained.
"Kaivan…" Lyra's voice finally broke the quiet. Soft, like wind passing through fabric. Her left hand rested over her chest, above the steady rhythm of her synthetic heart. There was hesitation in her movement, like someone learning for the first time what a heartbeat meant.
Kaivan turned to her. His gaze met Lyra's face, illuminated by the gentle glow of the dashboard—so human that it was hard to believe she was not made of flesh and blood.
Lyra glanced at him briefly, then returned her eyes to the empty road ahead.
"What kind of person… could you like?" she asked quietly. "Someone you could even… love?"
Kaivan tilted his head, his expression a mixture of confusion and exhaustion.
"You're the third person who's asked me that," he said softly. "Thivi asked me once. Felicia too."
Lyra stayed silent, waiting. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, a subtle tension in her fingers.
"Tell me, Kaivan. I want to know," she said again, her voice gentle yet filled with curiosity.
Kaivan let out a long breath. It fogged in the cold air. He leaned back, staring at the night sky through the window, letting his eyes drift among the stars. His voice was flat, like words he had repeated too many times.