When Nujah finally opened his eyes after what felt like an eternity, he found himself resting in Maria's lap. But this time, it was Maria who was asleep. Sitting nearby, calmly reading a book, was Mevrias.
"So, you're finally awake," he said with a soft smile. "Sister Maria gave even a piece of her soul to heal you—along with her animals. You better not forget that."
There was something in his tone—a flicker of jealousy over Maria's affection for him.
Nujah opened his eyes fully and slowly sat up.
"When did you get here?" he asked.
Mevrias didn't answer.
"I've been living here for 1,435 years," Nujah continued. "Since I was human. Tell me, how do you think we still feel this deeply connected to each other, after all this time?"
Mevrias tried to speak but couldn't find the words.
"As long as our minds stayed intact, we never truly said a cruel word to one another. You won't believe it, but even when we pretended to be furious, deep down, we were never really angry."
Nujah paused for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the distance. Then he turned back to Mevrias.
"You know… I can't even remember the last time I was truly hurt. Because we learned how to love without breaking. Maria taught us that. That's why jealousy is pointless—her love doesn't divide, it multiplies."
Mevrias's eyes shimmered. He lowered his head and whispered,
"I'm sorry… I wasn't jealous. I just felt like I could never be as good as you."
At that moment, Maria stirred. Her eyes opened slowly, and she looked at them in silence. A faint smile graced her lips, and in a voice as soft as the wind, she said:
"You don't have to be the best... just being here is enough."
Her voice carried a warmth that sank deep into their hearts.
Nujah turned slightly to look at her; there was no anger or reproach in his eyes—only tenderness.
Mevrias, trying to hide his shame, tucked his head between his knees. But then, summoning his courage, he moved beside Maria.
"I'll try to stay by your side from now on," he said quietly but firmly.
Maria lifted a tired hand and gently stroked his head.
> "Family isn't about sharing blood... it's about carrying the same wound together," she whispered.
And then, silence fell. But this time, it was not heavy—it was healing.
The wind danced through the grass, and the sky felt a shade brighter, the world a little lighter.
Just then…
A finely crafted sword adorned with rose engravings sliced through the air. It landed, point-first, in the middle of the field with a spark as it struck the earth—like a message, like an ancient melody.
From the distance, a sharp cry rang out:
> "NUJAAAH!"
A figure in colorful cat-themed pajamas, hair wild in the wind, came running fast. Her steps were uneven but determined. Tears streamed from her eyes, hands stretched forward.
Mitra.
She moved like a shadow—no, like a gust of wind—leaping across the grass and hurling herself at Nujah.
> "I GOT YOUUUU!"
Nujah had just sat up when they both tumbled down together. he burst into surprised laughter; Mitra's embrace was nearly magical in its intensity.
> "You've gotten heavier," Nujah chuckled. "You moved like a ghost but hit like a brick."
Mitra clung to him tightly, burying her face in Nujah's shoulder, still hiccupping with sobs.
Through laughter and a wince of pain, Nujah said,
> "You think I'd die while a little maniac like you is still waiting for me?"
Maria stepped in gently, trying to pull Mitra away, concern clear on her face.
"He just came out of major surgery, let him rest a bit!"
At that moment, Eris arrived at a sprint—also in matching cat pajamas, her hair windblown like Mitra's. She picked up the younger girl, despite Mitra's protests.
As Nujah caught his breath, still pinned down by affection, Mitra suddenly remembered something vital.
"Naraka… came while you two were asleep—just for a brief moment. Left a message. Said the end is near—just six days. We need to endure until then."
Just then, a bright orange cat named World Destroyer padded into view, carrying a vanilla-caramel ice cream in its mouth—carefully, without letting it melt or get damaged.
It was a get-well gift.
"Thanks, Destroyer," Nujah whispered, taking the treat, stroking the cat's head. The cat climbed onto his foot and promptly curled up to nap.
After quickly finishing the ice cream, Nujah lay back in the grass… and froze.
A ghostly silhouette hovered above. The grass around them seemed to freeze in time.
Nujah's eyes widened. World Destroyer's fur bristled; the cat hissed, its back arched.
Nujah instinctively backed away.
But Mitra stepped in front of him.
Her pajamas fluttered in the wind, but her eyes shone with the fierce determination of a warrior. Her hands trembled, raised in protection.
Maria whispered, "Mitra… be careful."
Eris reached for her sword—then froze.
And then, as one, they all whispered:
> "Protect us, Mitra…"
Mitra narrowed her eyes and shouted to the ghost:
> "I don't know who you are or where you came from… but you picked the worst family to mess with!"
She took a step forward, fists clenched.
> "Take one more step and I'll make you eat my pajamas—with freezing ice cream on top!"
A sudden crack split the sky. The ghost's form shimmered and cracked.
Then—
Laughter.
Cold, high-pitched, but unmistakably familiar.
The shadow twisted, shifted, and took form—silver hair billowing, eyes narrowed with mischief.
> "Seriously… 'eat my pajamas'?"
Vercurius fell to the ground, laughing so hard he clutched his stomach.
> "By Naraka… I want to replay this scene for eternity!"
Eris exhaled deeply. Maria shook her head, but a small smile crept across her lips.
Nujah finally relaxed, resting his head back with a sigh.
> "Yeah… I think life might be worth it after all."
Mitra, fists still clenched and face burning red, realized everyone was watching her. She turned slightly away.
Her cat pajamas fluttered in the wind like a battle banner.
> "I mean… I was just trying to protect my Dad, okay? No need to mock me."
Maria smiled gently. "Never be ashamed of who you are, Mitra."
Vercurius, still half-laughing, sobered as he brushed dust from his clothes. His playful demeanor faded, replaced by a rare seriousness. She walked to Nujah and knelt beside him. For a long moment, he said nothing—then bowed his head.
> "Nujah…"
His voice was stripped of its usual arrogance—gentle, sincere.
> "As our leader, no apology could ever be enough. But still… I must say it. I'm sorry. For them… and for myself."
He paused, looking his in the eye.
> "You were the one meant to be protected. Instead, you protected us. Not just us—every living being in Shiora. And yet… you bore the worst of it. Alone. I will fix this. Myself. Whatever it takes."
Nujah looked at him for a long moment. Then he smiled—not just with her lips, but with his whole being.
> "If you ever do this again… I'll send my cat after you."
World Destroyer hissed in perfect timing.
Vercurius nearly laughed again but swallowed it down. Her eyes were glistening. She reached out and pulled Nujah into a hug. They stayed like that until Mitra cleared her throat loudly.
"Pardon me, princess," Vercurius mumbled, stepping back with a grin.
Nujah turned to speak again—"So where are the rest of you lunatics—"
But a pair of hands suddenly covered his eyes. Graceful, theatrical hands.
From behind his came a dramatic, musical voice:
> "Guess who? The embodiment of beauty, brilliance, and illusion itself!"
Nujah sighed.
> "Mabaka."
Eris chuckled. "Didn't see her, but the voice was enough."
Mitra groaned. "And here comes the theater act…"
Mabaka twirled into view, her violet silk cloak swirling with flair.
> "Ah, Nujah… you've awoken like a legend reborn. Even I, dazzling as I am, pale in comparison now."
Nujah tilted his head with a fond smile.
> "It's good to see you, sis. Now what do you want?"
Mabaka clutched her chest in mock offense.
> "Still impatient! I missed this grumpiness!"
Maria closed her eyes with quiet patience. Mevrias whispered:
> "And here begins… the theater chapter."
Mabaka knelt, arms out dramatically.
> "Joking aside… I was terrified, Nujah. When you were gone… even time lost meaning. The mirror wouldn't show my reflection."
Her voice dropped.
> "I've always danced with words. But when you were gone, even words abandoned me. You were the one who carried us all. And as always… I did nothing."
Nujah said nothing, head slightly bowed.
Mabaka dropped lower, palms against the earth.
> "I'm sorry. Looking graceful and speaking poetically wasn't enough this time. I was weak. And that truth shattered me."
Eris stepped forward, voice steady:
> "We all felt that. Mabaka just wraps her pain in ribbons. But the guilt—we all carry it."
Maria nodded.
> "We weren't ready to lose you. Never were. You took the pain so we wouldn't have to."
Mevrias reached for his hand.
> "This time… we'll carry you. Whatever it takes. Not alone—together."
Mitra, blushing furiously, blurted:
> "And if anyone tries to hurt you again… I'll throw my whole wardrobe at their face!"
Vercurius burst out laughing.
> "We swore to protect each other—until the very end."
Mabaka finally stood, her voice no longer dramatic but warm and quiet.
> "This time, no show. No words. Just… let me stand with you. Not as a performer. As your sister."
Nujah took a deep breath, eyes passing over each of them.
> "You don't need permission to be what you already are. You're by my side—whether you like it or not."
She smiled—softly, shakily, but filled with love.
The silence that followed wasn't empty. It was sacred.
Mabaka's mask fell. She walked forward—no flourish, no performance—and simply embraced Nujah. No cape, no pose. Just a sister.
She whispered:
> "Thank you… for accepting me even as I am."
Nujah stood still for a heartbeat, then gently wrapped his arms around her.
Another silence. Warm. Healing.
Mitra sniffled loudly.
"I wanna hug too, but they're still holding me!"
Eris smiled.
"Be patient. We're taking turns."
---