Jay stood frozen, his entire body trembling as his sister stepped out of the shadows, her gaze locked on him like a predator on cornered prey.
"This time," she said in a low, dangerous voice, "if you don't give me a very good reason… you will never see the light of day again."
Her crimson eyes burned with fury, and in the next instant, an overwhelming aura exploded from her body. The air around them turned heavy, pressing down like a crushing weight. The sheer force slammed both Jay and Nathan to the ground as if they were insects caught under an unseen hand.
"I–I… I'm… so… so… sorry… a-argh…" Jay stammered, his voice trembling and breaking under the suffocating pressure.
"What the hell… is this?" Nathan thought, gritting his teeth. His muscles screamed just to lift his head. She's not human… there's no way this is normal.
"Jay…" his sister's voice cut through the night like a blade. "Do I look like a toy to you?"
Jay's eyes widened in terror. "N-No… please… I didn't mean—"
He tried to speak, but every breath felt like it was being squeezed from his lungs. The oppressive aura was unbearable, making his vision blur.
Nathan couldn't even move. His body felt like lead, his limbs refusing to obey him. All he could do was watch.
Jenn, her expression cold and unyielding, raised her hand slowly. The movement was graceful, but it carried the weight of a death sentence. Jay's heart pounded so loudly in his ears he could barely hear anything else.
But just as her hand was about to come down—
Smack!
Her wrist was caught in a firm, steady grip.
"Hohoho… my dear," came a warm yet strangely commanding voice, "you mustn't intimidate the children."
The person holding Jenn's hand was none other than Nathan's grandmother—a frail-looking old woman with a hunched back and soft, wrinkled features. But the instant she appeared, the air shifted. The oppressive weight evaporated like mist under the sun.
"Even if they make mistakes," the old woman continued, her voice calm yet firm, "it is in their nature. Children will be reckless. That is part of what it means to be young."
Jenn blinked, her fury cooling slightly under the woman's gaze. Slowly, she lowered her arm, stepping back. "You're right… I got carried away."
Then she turned her attention back to Jay, her tone still stern but no longer murderous. "But, Jay… this is your last chance. Understand that. One more stunt like today, and I won't hold back."
Jay swallowed hard, nodding rapidly. "Y-Yes… understood…"
The old woman—though her back was bent with age—moved with surprising strength, guiding both Jay and Nathan toward the house. "Come now, boys. You'll spend the night here."
Jenn hesitated for a moment, then gave a curt nod. "Fine. Let him stay… but I expect him home tomorrow morning."
"Yes, yes," the grandmother replied with a smile, waving dismissively as she led the two inside.
Once the door shut behind them, Jay let out a long, shaky breath. His knees were still trembling. "Oh my god… I thought I was dead."
Nathan, still pale, glanced at him. "Dead? I thought we were both going to get erased from existence."
From the kitchen, the old woman's voice rang out cheerfully, "You boys must be starving. I'll prepare something warm for you."
The warmth of the house contrasted sharply with the terrifying confrontation outside. But Jay knew one thing—Jenn wasn't bluffing. If he pushed her again… there might be no one there next time to stop her.
The warm aroma of freshly cooked food filled the small but cozy dining room. The wooden table creaked slightly under the weight of steaming bowls of rice, tender cuts of meat, and a fragrant vegetable stew. The golden glow from the hanging lantern above cast soft shadows on the walls, giving the whole place an inviting, homely feel.
Jay sat stiff at first, still shaken by the confrontation outside. His hands gripped the edge of the table as if he expected Jenn to burst in at any moment. Nathan's grandmother, however, had a way of melting tension like snow under sunlight.
"Eat, eat," she urged, placing an extra piece of meat in Jay's bowl. "A boy who fights monsters all day needs strength."
Jay blinked, then let out a nervous laugh. "Thank you, ma'am. Really… thank you for earlier too. If you hadn't stepped in, I would've been—" He made a dramatic throat-slitting motion.
Nathan snorted into his tea. "You mean you were already dead. Jenn's glare could cut steel."
Jay shot him a glare of his own but ended up chuckling. "You're not wrong…"
The old woman laughed heartily, her wrinkled eyes narrowing into crescents. "Jenn is just… passionate. But a sister's wrath comes from love. Remember that, Jay."
Jay nodded, though inside, he doubted her "love" involved crushing him into the ground with raw aura. Still, he couldn't help but feel grateful for the peaceful atmosphere.
As they ate, the conversation flowed more easily. Nathan was halfway through his third bowl of rice when he leaned back and sighed in satisfaction. "Man, I think your cooking is better than any restaurant."
"That's because restaurants don't put magic in their food," the grandmother said with a sly smile.
Jay paused mid-bite. "Wait, you're joking, right?"
Her smile widened, but she didn't answer. Nathan just shrugged. "I stopped questioning her years ago."
They all laughed again. For the first time in what felt like days, Jay's chest loosened. The weight of battle, the smell of blood, the echoes of the demon's roar—all of it seemed far away. Here, there was only the sound of clinking bowls and the occasional satisfied sigh.
At one point, the grandmother brought out a small clay jar and poured them each a cup of a warm, herbal drink. "Good for the body," she said. "Helps you recover from wounds… and fear."
Jay took a sip, and a soothing warmth spread through him, making his eyelids feel heavier. "This is amazing… What's in it?"
"Secret recipe," she replied with a wink.
They traded stories then—Nathan retelling their fight with the demon in dramatic detail, complete with exaggerated sound effects. "And then Jay was like 'Hyaaah!' and disappeared—poof—like some ninja!"
"I did not sound like that," Jay protested, laughing despite himself. "And you're forgetting the part where you almost got frozen alive!"
"Details," Nathan waved dismissively.
Even the grandmother chuckled at their playful bickering. "You two remind me of your fathers when they were young. Always getting into trouble together, but somehow always making it out alive."
Jay tilted his head. "Wait, you knew my dad?"
Her smile softened. "Oh, I knew him well. But that's a story for another night. For now, finish your food before it gets cold."
The rest of the meal passed in warm comfort. By the time they finished, Jay's stomach was full, his mind calmer, and his eyelids heavy. Nathan's grandmother began clearing the table, refusing their offers to help.
"You boys have done enough today. Go get some rest," she said firmly.
Jay glanced at Nathan and grinned. "You know… maybe staying over isn't such a bad idea after all."
Nathan smirked. "Told you."
As they left the dining room, the sound of the grandmother humming softly followed them, like a gentle lullaby chasing away the darkness outside. For the first time since the battle began, Jay felt like maybe—just maybe—things would be okay.