The room was silent, in rhythm with Dalia's breathing. She slept on her side, unaware of the mental whirlwind unfolding beside her. Neo, on the other hand, lay on his back, eyes open, fixed on the wooden ceiling, searching there for some answer that kept slipping away. Then he remembered those days working in the forest. Every tree, every cut, every beam.
From the outside, anyone would have thought he was just another young man, happy after an intimate night. From the inside, Neo felt indecent, uncomfortable, as if a layer he considered essential had been ripped away. There was no relief, no pride, no freedom promised by someone else's words. Only a weight on his chest. He thought to himself.
(After all, I'm the same as everyone else. A simple sinner who couldn't hold back. I said no so many times. Not because I lack desire. Sin is an old, heavy word. It's burned into my conscience since childhood. And yet I've fallen, with the seventh daughter, the one always there, free, waiting for me to take her. They said a man becomes a man after sharing warmth with a woman. That something changes, that something is released. But I don't feel more of a man. Everything I promised feels like smoke. Simple words carried by the wind, like dry leaves. How could I have fallen into this? Wasn't I supposed to be better?)
He knew Dalia wouldn't understand. She didn't believe in any of it. She didn't see sin where he saw a spiritual wound. To her, it was love, closeness, or something natural. But to him, it was an open crack between what he desired and what he believed was right before God.
He closed his eyes, but that only made the inner voice clearer.
(You, who know my soul… tell me when I drifted away from you.)
He felt unworthy. One who didn't even deserve to think of God. And yet, there was the contradiction that hurt the most: even while doubting, even while falling, even while staining himself, he felt he wasn't alone.
(I doubted your love… and still you receive me with open arms. What kind of being are you?)
He hated his own hypocrisy. Calling himself a believer, praying, studying… and then failing exactly where he had sworn to be steadfast. His heart felt murky and stained. And yet, part of him knew that his sins did not outweigh divine mercy. That was precisely what broke him.
(I want to ask for forgiveness… but I can't. I know you've already decided how to grant it… but I can't.)
He wondered if this strange world he now lived in was a punishment. If all of this was the logical harvest of what he had sown.
(Your path is the best for me. Let me follow you as I have… and if I stray, pull me back again.)
He didn't see it as a loss of freedom. For Neo, obedience was a choice. What hurt was failing over and over, knowing that each time he strayed, something broke. And now, on top of that, with her.
The emptiness returned. That hollow that always appeared when he felt he moved away from God. If Christ truly lived in him as he had been taught, then every act should hurt him. And yet, he still wanted to dwell in his heart. The image of suffering pierced him mercilessly. The cross, the blood, the lashes, the nails. Neo felt them as his own.
(I gave you the lashes, I drove the nails, all because I don't know how to shut up or stop.)
His eyes grew wet. He couldn't understand how someone could love like that without limit, without exhaustion.
(God, you weren't, and you will never cease to be. You are. If you know I'm going to sin, why do you let me? Do you value my freedom so much? Well, I don't want it, because I only hurt you. Jesus… a drop of your blood would have been enough. And yet, you gave everything. I almost have a career, I'm not foolish, and I know of you, yet I still sin. Tell me, why am I so cruel to you?)
He couldn't bear staying still any longer. He got up carefully, leaving Dalia asleep, and went to the bathroom to wash his face. The cold water didn't erase anything, but at least it anchored him to the present. The reflection showed a tired young man, not a monster and that almost made him feel worse. He returned to the living room and sat on the sofa. The silence there was different, somewhat lighter.
While sitting on the sofa, after a few seconds of hesitation, he wrote to Hunt. He didn't beat around the bush. He briefly explained how Dalia had confessed the harassment she had suffered from some teachers and a few students. How their insistent looks had crossed a line that no one should cross. He didn't give very specific details there was no need. That conversation had already left its mark on both of them. Hunt's reply didn't take long. Selene had gone through the same thing. Neo felt something click sharply inside his head. The girls had stayed silent. Not out of weakness, but out of habit. Out of fear of not being believed.
For a long while, they exchanged messages. They weren't looking for immediate solutions or grand heroic speeches. They simply shared the contained anger, the helplessness, and that bitter feeling of having been close… but not quite attentive enough. And then, almost at the same time, they typed the same words.
#●■― We have to make rings. ―#
A genuine promise, a clear and public declaration. Neo read Hunt's message and, without realizing it, smiled for the first time in hours. No unnecessary words followed. Both of them knew what to do.
The workshop greeted Neo with its usual smell of metal, wood, and coal. He lit the furnace with an automatic motion the same finger snap that Dalia used. He adjusted the air vents, added logs, and when the fire began to roar intensely, he let the heat grow, using mana to rapidly increase the temperature.
Hunt arrived shortly after. He placed three ingots on the table: one of gold, one of silver, and one of copper. Neo raised an eyebrow.
●— What are the copper and silver for? ― Hunt smiled, tired but determined.
■— I didn't write it to you. We're going to use rose gold for their rings. ― Neo blinked, curious despite everything.
●— Ah… but since when do you know how to do that? ―
Hunt leaned on the table and explained as he rolled up his sleeves.
■— Don't you remember the chemistry classes? ― Neo shook his head slowly.
●— You remember that? ―
■— Well… pure gold is too soft and yellow. Mixing it with copper gives a warmer tone, usually pinkish. Silver helps balance hardness and color, preventing the copper from dominating too much. It's all about proportions and controlling the heat. ― Neo nodded slowly.
●—Makes sense. ―
Before melting anything, they returned to their rooms. They measured their left ring fingers with a thin string and charcoal. Then, back to the workshop, the real work began. The night advanced while they were just getting started.
They measured the ingots, cut proportions, and organized them into piles, then melted, mixed, and poured. One shaped the metal, hammering the anvil without pause. The other filed with a steady hand. The rose gold emerged perfect, uniform, obedient to both fire and the hands of the two craftsmen. The four rings rested on the table as they turned off the furnace two for them, and two for the women.
When fatigue began to bite, Neo took the burin. The workshop was silent, broken only by the crackle of still-hot metal. One by one, he engraved the inscriptions inside the rings. The small letters, designed to leave a subtle mark on the finger, had barely started to form when they heard a noise outside the workshop.
Hunt went out to investigate and returned seconds later.
●— What was that? ―
■— It was nothing important. Let's continue. ―
●— My eyes are starting to hurt. ―
■— Shall I go next? ―
●— No, just tired. ―
Selene woke with the first rays of sunlight, a strange feeling in her chest. As she stretched out her hand, she noticed a small smudge of charcoal between her fingers. Opening her eyes abruptly, she realized the bed was empty. For a second, the silence became unbearable, and a familiar sadness ran through her body. Not again, she thought. Hunt usually disappeared early, but never in the middle of the night. She rose slowly, wondering what her boyfriend might be working on at that hour, and then she saw it—the subdimension door was still there. Intact and open. That stopped her. Frowning in curiosity, she got up and crossed the threshold.
The large hall unfolded before her… and there was Hunt, just a few steps away, turning at that very moment, as if about to come find her. Selene froze, stunned. Before she could say anything, Hunt smiled and held out his hand.
■—Come.―
She took it without thinking. That's when she saw Neo and Dalia behind him. Hunt led her to the center of the hall where Neo and he crossed paths and bumped fists with a quick gesture. Then, without a word, Neo took Dalia to a corner, and Hunt guided Selene to the opposite wall. Selene glanced over her shoulder at Dalia, a clear expression on her face: What's happening? Dalia returned the look, just as lost, shrugging slightly.
When Hunt stopped, Selene looked back at him. He took a deep breath… and knelt. Hunt produced a ring, holding it between his fingers, looking directly into her eyes. There was no long speech. Selene felt her legs give out, and before she realized it, she collapsed to her knees in front of him, one hand clutching her chest. At that moment, a shout tore through the air.
―Dalia — YES! ―
Selene turned her head and saw Neo, hand extended with a ring in it, and Dalia practically leaping onto him, laughing, crying, saying yes to everything. Selene looked back at Hunt, eyes glistening, and nodded firmly.
―Selene — Yes.— She said, almost in a whisper.
Hunt carefully placed the ring on her finger. Then both of them stood and moved toward Dalia and Neo. Still a bit dazed by the speed of everything, Selene was wiping her eyes when Hunt pulled out another ring, this time golden, and gave it to Dalia. Neo did the same with Selene.
No explanations were needed. Selene placed the ring on Hunt's finger. Dalia did the same with Neo. The gesture was simple… and definitive. They congratulated each other, embraced, and the air in the hall felt lighter, as if something had finally settled.
―Durman — Why are they shouting? ―
Astrid stood beside him, curious. Dalia, still excited, raised her hand and proudly showed the ring.
―Dalia — Mom, look. ― Astrid approached, observed it… and then looked at Neo and Hunt.
―Astrid — And that? ―
In this world, rings didn't carry any special meaning. Neo spoke calmly. He explained that for them, the ring wasn't decoration or a display of wealth. It was a promise of love that couldn't be broken. A mutual giving, not possessive, but a daily choice. A circle without beginning or end, like the commitment they made before God… and to each other. He didn't mention rituals or formulas, only the meaning. Astrid listened silently, then lightly elbowed Durman.
Durman understood perfectly that (I want one too.) He snorted, glanced at Neo… and Neo nodded. At that moment, Sena appeared, and everything had to be explained from the beginning. Between questions, laughter, overlapping comments, and that pure, sincere happiness—which Neo hated feeling, knowing he had broken all his promises. Before everyone dispersed, Dalia looked at her ring with curiosity.
―Dalia —And what does it say inside?―
■—Yours says: Dalia, property of Neo. ―
●—And mine? ― added Neo ― Neo, property of Dalia. ― Selene frowned and examined hers.
―Selene —Mine doesn't say that… there are some strange symbols.― Neo smiled.
■—That's Hunt's real name. ― That unleashed chaos.
Everyone asked at once about Neo and Hunt's real names. When they said them, the group tried to repeat them… without success. They sounded impossible, tangled, as if the tongue refused to obey. Durman, however, shook his head.
―Durman —I'm still going to call you kid. ―
Then Lisa appeared at the door, hands on her hips.
―Lisa —All very nice, but it's time for breakfast. Some of us have a very busy day ahead. ―