It wasn't loud. There was no boom of thunder or crack of magic. Just a single sound—soft, strange, like a bell underwater.
Rael stood sharply.
Mochi's hand twitched.
Then, her chest rose.
Once.
Twice.
And stopped.
Rael's heart slammed against his ribs. "No—Mochi?"
He dropped to his knees beside her, the book sliding to the floor, pages fluttering. Her face was still, peaceful, but too still. Too peaceful. He shook her shoulders gently. Then harder.
"Mochi, please. Don't. I didn't even get to say anything properly annoying yet—come on—come on—"
Nothing.
The light in the mirror shard flickered once and went dark entirely.
And in the darkness, a very soft purr resonated throughout the room.
The book opened by itself.
Pages turned—fwip fwip fwip—until it opened to a chapter with gold ink. The title:
"The End of the Cat Who Wouldn't Stop Saving People."
A warm light enveloped the page, and words inscribed themselves, swirling in the air over the parchment like smoke:
"In this life, she was girl-shaped and trouble-bound.
In her last, she had fur and fire and a loyalty that burned even through death.
And in both, she chose them.
Again and again, she chose them."
Rael couldn't breathe.
A breeze rustled. Not chilly, but interested. Friendly.
And in it… a form.
A tiny black cat.
It sprang from the book, made of pure starlight and memory, falling with a gentle thump upon the infirmary floor. It looked at Rael and blinked once—slowly—then nuzzled against his leg.
Then, it disappeared.
The book shut itself.
Rael was frozen, still curled hands around hers.
But he felt it, in the depths of his heart: the soul tether had been severed.
Mochi was gone.
Not lost.
Not erased.
But gone.
And for the first time, Rael cried. Not as a warrior. Not as a friend.
But like one who has been chosen—and forsaken.