Night had deepened in Alberto, casting long shadows across narrow alleys and rooftops humming with leftover warmth. After the spectacle of the Magic Knights, the crowds had dispersed like tidewater retreating from the shore. Neon lights still blinked in lazy rhythm, and distant patrol drones buzzed through the dark like overgrown fireflies.
Sam, Kiro, and Ayana walked together through cobbled streets back toward the residential quarter. Their earlier laughter had faded, replaced by a quiet, dreamy silence. Each of them was lost in thought — in awe, in ambition, in questions left hanging in the air.
As they reached the fork near the central fountain, Ayana peeled off toward her apartment tower.
"Goodnight, Sam," she said softly, her eyes lingering on him longer than usual.will you go in the Magic Knights Squad for training?"
Sam nodded. "With all my heart."
She smiled faintly and walked away. Kiro waved and jogged off toward his block.
Now alone, Sam headed toward the older part of the city — where the roads cracked more, the lights flickered more often, and the past clung like damp fog. Here stood his home.
A small, two-room house tucked between buildings that had survived both time and war. Its walls were patched in places with mismatched stone, and a small antenna stuck out from the roof. The kitchen jutted into the street slightly, and the front gate creaked when opened — a sound Sam had known all his life.
He pushed the door open slowly.
Inside, the scent of cooked lentils and spiced rice greeted him, warm and familiar. A glowing Spirit crystal hung from the ceiling, providing soft yellow light. The walls bore photographs of the family — faded but lovingly kept. Sam stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him.
His father, Robbin Carlo, sat in the small living room area, polishing an old dagger — its handle worn, its blade dulled from age. His frame was strong but weathered, his hair dark with strands of gray, and a faint scar ran across his left cheek — a memory from years as a Magic Knight.
As Sam entered, Robbin looked up and grinned.
"So, you've seen the Magic Knights return from a mission," he said, setting the dagger aside.
Sam nodded, face still glowing from the experience. "Yes, Papa. I saw Captain Morgan. And Meela! They were… incredible."
Robbin chuckled, his eyes softening. "I remember seeing my first squad return when I was your age. It lights a fire in the chest, doesn't it?"
"It does," Sam said. "They were like… giants. Everyone was cheering. And Morgan held the tooth of a Wolf Tier 5 demon."
Robbin leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant. "Wolf Tier 5s… nasty things. Quick. Clever. I fought one once in the mountains of Valegroth. Took three of us to put it down."
Sam blinked. "You really did?"
"I wasn't always this old," Robbin said with a grin. "Before you were born, I led missions into the Demon Blight Zones. I had a Spirit once too — a wind Spirit named Gairen."
"Where is he now?"
Robbin's smile faded, just slightly. "When a Knight retires, the Spirit sleeps. Gairen rests now… but if I ever needed him, truly needed him, I believe he'd come."
There was a pause, filled only by the quiet hum of the ceiling crystal.
Then Robbin stood and stepped closer to his son.
"You'll get your Spirit in two days, Sam."
Sam's breath caught.
His father put a hand on his shoulder. "And I want to see you rise higher than I ever did. Not just a Magic Knight, but a Senior Knight. Someone who leads, protects, and inspires."
Sam met his father's eyes, and something burned inside him. Not fear. Not pressure. Just a quiet, radiant resolve.
"I'll do it, Papa," he said. "I swear I will."
Just then, from the kitchen, a warm voice called out. "Dinner's ready!"
His mother entered, carrying a small tray with steaming plates. Her hair was tied back with a blue ribbon, and her apron was dusted with flour. Her smile was the kind that melted any tension.
"You two keep talking like you're in the middle of a novel," she teased.
Robbin raised a brow. "He's becoming a Knight in two days. Of course, it's a novel."
Sam laughed, moving to help. "Let me carry those, Mom."
They sat together in the small kitchen — just big enough for a round table, three chairs, and a window that looked out onto the cracked alley.
Tony, Sam's nine-year-old brother, came bouncing in from the back room, clutching a toy sword.
"Brother,Brother Papa gave this sword to me... I will defeat now every enemy"
The four of them ate together — the clinking of spoons and quiet laughter replacing the buzz of the city outside.
Robbin shared stories from his past — about missions in forest ruins, Spirit duels during training, and a haunted tower that turned out to be infested by invisible lizard demons.
Sam and Tony laughed until their sides hurt. Even their mother shook her head at some of the more ridiculous tales.
After dinner, they moved to the roof — a flat surface lined with pots of herbs and a battered bench that looked out toward the glowing skyline of Alberto.
Sam sat alone for a moment, the city spread before him like a field of stars. Hovercars zipped by in the distance. Patrol drones blinked red against the darkness.
His thoughts wandered.
His mother came up with a blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. She didn't say anything, just sat beside him.
"Do you think I'm ready?" Sam finally asked.
She looked at him, eyes full of quiet certainty. "You were ready the day you held your brother's hand during the last blackout and told him everything would be fine. That's what strength looks like. The rest… the rest will come."
Tears welled in his eyes. He didn't let them fall. He just nodded.
"Goodnight, my Knight," she whispered, kissing his forehead.
She descended the stairs, leaving him with the stars.
Tony's voice echoed from below. "SAM! Can I sleep in your room tonight?"
Sam smiled. "Only if you don't snore."
He stood, casting one last glance at the horizon.
In two days, the Ceremony would take place. In two days, everything might change.
But tonight — tonight he was just Sam.
And that was enough.