The wide-open window let in the gentle breeze of Lavinsk, carrying the scent of celestial flowers and fresh, dew-kissed grass.
The silver light of the full moon bathed every corner of the room, spilling over the walls, the bed, and the sword resting on its wooden stand. Kazekiba sat there, motionless and silent, as if it were waiting, too.
I lay on my back with my arms stretched out, my eyes wide open and locked on the ceiling.
Sleep wouldn't come. My mind spun endlessly through memories, fears, and that one name that burned just to think about.
Until light, careful knocks on the wooden door snapped me back to reality.
"May I come in, Suki?"
It was Kânia's voice, sweet and calm as always, but carrying a subtle tension, as if she feared my answer.
I let out a heavy sigh that felt like it weighed a ton and gave a small, barely visible nod.
"Sure..."
The door opened slowly, without a single creak.
Kânia stepped inside carrying a polished silver tray, where two teacups released curling wisps of steam.
The aroma of hot herbs and honey spread through the room, trying to embrace the cold air I had let in.
She placed the tray carefully on the table, then sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under her weight.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. She waited, and I didn't know where to start.
"Hey... how are you doing?" Her voice was soft, her eyes roaming my face with an affection that hurt to look at.
"Feeling any better?"
I kept my gaze glued to the ceiling.
My fingers, hidden beneath the blanket, curled slowly, as if gripping the hilt of a sword that wasn't there.
My throat tightened.
I swallowed hard before speaking. My voice came out deep, drawn-out, breaking before I could even finish the sentence.
"Lady Kânia... tell me Silver has already found her." The words came out with effort, a sob already caught in my throat, threatening to break free.
"Please... tell me that right now, he is standing in front of them, killing whoever he needs to kill, and bringing her back."
The silence that followed was answer enough. I turned my head to face her.
And in her downcast, sorrowful eyes, I saw exactly what I had feared.
"We haven't been able to locate her, Suki," she said quietly, gently, yet every word was a blade.
"There is a part of our universe... vast and dark, a land without laws."
"We call them the Obscure Galaxies, the place where evil hides. And everything points to the fact... that she is already in there."
I leaped out of bed as if I had been burned, the air vanishing from my lungs.
"So what!?" I yelled. For the first time in my life, I raised my voice at her.
And I just couldn't hold myself back.
"You're strong! The strongest people I know! If you all gather... Silver... the Queen... you can do it! You can find her! You can bring her back!"
"It's not that simple, Suki." Kânia stood up slowly, but she didn't step back.
"HOW IS IT NOT!?"
My aura exploded from me in an uncontrolled burst. The windows rattled, the curtains thrashed violently, the air vibrated, and Kânia's hair blew backward, swept up by the sheer pressure bursting from my chest.
"BECAUSE THERE ARE RULES!" she shouted back, matching my volume and intensity.
And then her own aura flared up—serene, immense, swallowing mine whole and pressing down on me like a mountain.
The walls groaned, and the floor felt like it was tilting.
But I didn't bow.
I didn't take a single step back.
I withstood all that crushing weight, teeth gritted, the veins bulging in my neck, my eyes burning with fury and despair.
I stared at her without blinking.
"Rules..." I repeated, letting out a bitter, cutting laugh.
"We can't just start a war like this, Suki. We can't simply invade another's territory."
"There is balance. There are treaties. There are consequences that could drag entire worlds into the fire."
"Just like they did to our lands?" I shot back.
And in that instant, she fell silent.
Kânia's lips pressed together, and there was no answer.
Only silence.
I saw there was nothing left to say.
"Please, Lady Kânia... leave me alone tonight."
I walked to the door and pulled it open, standing to the side without looking back.
Kânia hesitated. Her eyes filled with a profound sorrow as she slumped her shoulders and walked past me, leaving without another word.
The door shut gently behind her.
Once the click of the latch faded, I collapsed onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow while my chest heaved in painful gasps.
I had never fought with her, never raised my voice at her, and now, with the silent room surrounding me, I felt dirty.
I felt awful.
But above all else... I felt that there was no one who could do this.
If no one else would go... then I would.
And that night, with a broken heart and the moon high in the sky, I knew I wouldn't close my eyes.
"Suki, breakfast is ready," Kânia's voice snapped me out of the trance I was in on my bed, making me realize it was already morning.
Golden morning light flooded the fields of Lavinsk.
Mystic birds sang softly from the treetops, and the early air carried an almost surreal peace.
I woke up with that heaviness in my head, remembering my fight with Kânia.
"Shit," I muttered, exhausted.
I got up and headed for the bathroom first, still limping slightly. There were minor aches my regeneration hadn't healed yet.
Down in the kitchen, the scent of dried herbs and freshly warmed honey lingered in the air when sharp, rhythmic knocks echoed from the front door.
Knock. Knock.
Kânia furrowed her brow, her fingers pausing over the wooden mortar. Visitors at this hour of the morning were nearly impossible at Silver's house.
Lavinsk was a world of quiet mornings, yet that knocking held a weight and a determination that made the very air tense slightly.
She walked to the entrance, turned the iron lock, and pulled the door open. For a brief second, the serenity on her face turned to stone.
Outside, standing on the threshold as if he didn't even have the right to the ground beneath his feet, was Tsukumo.
He wore nothing but a simple white cotton tunic, faded at the cuffs.
His posture was still upright, but without that stiffness of someone carrying a throne on their back. His shoulders were slightly slumped, and his hands were clasped in front of him, as if he were holding onto his own pride so it wouldn't slip away.
His golden eyes, once abrasive and starved for dominance, now held the shade of tarnished gold—deep, exhausted, burdened by everything he had seen and everything he had destroyed.
"I..." he started, his voice coming out low and hoarse, as if he had to force every single word out of his throat.
"I would like to speak with everyone... if you'll allow me. Especially with Suki."
The morning breeze sweeping through the doorway seemed to freeze in the air.
The exact same being who, just a month ago, had forced mountains to their knees beneath his gravity was standing right there—unarmed, stripped of his title, asking for permission to enter.
It took Kânia two seconds to breathe again. She saw how much he had changed, and how much this was costing him.
Then, she took a step to the side.
"You may come in, Tsukumo."
He gave a short bow.
Out in the garden, Silver was pruning the branches of a tree he had regenerated himself just days ago.
The snapping sound of the shears stopped abruptly.
He looked up, spotting the tall silhouette crossing the lawn, and his green eyes flashed with a warning that made the aura around him tingle.
Dropping his tools onto the ground, he marched into the house with firm, unhurried steps, making no effort to hide his suspicion.
The moment his eyes locked onto Tsukumo in the kitchen doorway, he spoke, his voice deep and slicing, entirely blunt.
"If you had the nerve to step foot in my house... then sit at the table and speak. But choose your words very carefully."
Tsukumo bowed his head once more.
"Always, Lord Silver."
The table was set with warm bread, vibrant fruits, and two steaming cups of tea.
The stark contrast between a peaceful breakfast and the presence of that former enemy made the air feel much heavier.
Then, footsteps echoed down the hallway—slow, controlled, yet carrying a weight everyone recognized.
Suki appeared in the doorway.
He wore loose clothes, the bandages still visible beneath his sleeves.
His right hand rested lightly against his abdomen, where sharp little pangs of pain still returned every now and then.
His eyes instantly met Tsukumo's. There was no surprise, no explicit anger. There was something deeper—a cold, thorough evaluation, as if he were seeing every single wound they had both inflicted upon that planet.
He walked over to the table, pulled out the furthest chair, and sat down without saying a single word.
Elbows propped up, hands clasped together, his gaze locked onto the other boy as if he wouldn't blink for even a second.
Tsukumo didn't look away, much less shrink back.
He stared right back, and was the first to speak.
"I came to say thank you."
The air in the room seemed to thicken. Kânia stopped fiddling with the kettle, and Silver crossed his arms.
"I found out in the worst possible way that everything I did was absurd," Tsukumo continued. His voice didn't waver, but it carried a shame he made no attempt to hide.
"A selfish, childish, and meaningless act."
He lowered his gaze to the table, his fingers gripping his own knee.
"In the beginning... I did it all in memory of my mother. I wanted my father to finally notice me, to see that she hadn't faded away as long as I was still breathing."
"But when I realized he only applauded destruction... when I saw he only paid attention to my siblings for the battles they won... I thought: if I'm worse, if I'm stronger, then he will see me."
He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with exertion.
"I was wrong. It all went to my head. And when I fought you, Suki..." He lifted his face again, his pale eyes filled with a raw truth. "...I felt my limits being crushed. I felt like there was finally someone capable of stopping me, of killing me. And I have to admit: a part of me was enjoying it. A lot."
Suki remained motionless, but a thin crease appeared between his brows.
"But then that blue portal opened," Tsukumo continued, his voice dropping even lower, as if he could still feel the crushing weight of that presence.
"Two steps, and we were reduced to nothing. Gods who destroy planets... dropping like insects. In that moment, I understood: if I don't change, if I don't learn what true strength is... I'll be the first to die when they return."
He took a long pause, swallowing hard before pressing on.
"I'm not asking for forgiveness. I know I don't have that right, and it doesn't erase what I did. But the Queen gave me a burden, and even if it takes decades, I am going to fulfill it."
Suki shifted his jaw slowly.
"And you just accepted it in silence?"
"I accepted it because I lost," Tsukumo stated without hesitation.
"Not just the battle. I lost my reason, and I dragged my family's name through the mud. Bearing this burden alone is the absolute least I can do."
"And Suki, you gave me the choice not to fight, and I fought anyway. Because of that, I lost Vanki and Katarina. I know that Arthur, Laura... all of that happened too because I was there, blinded by my own desires. For that, I apologize."
Kânia smiled with a gentle sorrow. She poured a cup of tea and slowly slid it over to him.
"Acknowledging your own mistakes is the first step, one that many take eons to make, Tsukumo. You still have a long way to go... but today is a beginning."
Suki closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them again, there was something calmer in his gaze, but it remained as firm as stone.
"I still don't trust you."
Tsukumo lowered his head slightly.
"Fair enough."
"Maybe I never will."
"I'd find that fair, too."
"Then don't expect my words to change, just because you're apologizing."
"I don't."
The tension at the table began to dissipate, but Silver's brow remained furrowed as he observed every single detail.
He waited until the silence grew comfortable again, and then asked point-blank.
"And what exactly do you want from us, boy?"
Tsukumo hesitated.
His fingers lightly drummed against the rim of his teacup before he answered.
"Nothing."
"Lie." Silver's reply was immediate and sharp.
Tsukumo sighed deeply, as if he were about to admit something painful.
"I want to learn. I've always had enough strength to tear worlds in half. But I lacked control. I lacked maturity. And I never had anyone to show me what to do with all this power."
Silver's eyes narrowed.
"You want me to be your master?"
Silence suddenly fell over the kitchen, heavy and fraught with questions.
The sound of the breeze brushing against the window seemed to grow louder.
Tsukumo lifted his chin, locked eyes with the Silver God with all the humility he could muster, and spoke slowly.
"If you will accept me."
"I want to be useful when the real war arrives."
Silver took a step forward. The atmosphere around him shifted, growing thicker, saturated with an unquestionable divine authority.
"I will give you this chance, son of Vangor," Silver declared, his voice echoing with the strict tone of a master.
"But it's going to be my way."
He looked at the two young men.
"Tomorrow, at the rising of Lavinsk's second sun, on the cloud training grounds."
Suki frowned.
"Both of us?"
"Yes. Both of you," Silver confirmed, an enigmatic gleam in his green eyes.
Tsukumo clenched his fists on the table, his eyes shining with a newfound determination.
"I accept."
Suki looked at Silver, then at Tsukumo. The memory of their old hatred was still there, but the weight of responsibility spoke louder.
He took a deep breath.
"Me too."
Silver crossed his arms.
"I want to see if two warriors who nearly destroyed each other can do something they've never done before."
Suki narrowed his eyes.
"Which is?"
Silver smiled.
"Trust each other."