❖ The Hall of Mirrors — Tybur Estate
Night had already drawn its veil over the city of Liberio,
yet the Tybur estate remained illuminated, as though it refused to sleep.
Sarah's steps were calm…
but her heart was anything but.
She entered the grand hall she had only ever seen from afar as a child—
during concerts and gatherings of the noble class.
Tonight, she was not a guest.
She had been summoned.
Willy Tybur stood at the center of the hall.
Behind him, a massive mirror reflected the length of his shadow
more than it reflected his features.
When their eyes met, neither of them spoke at once.
Silence ruled the moment, as if the walls themselves understood
that they were about to witness something decisive.
At last, Willy spoke—his voice gentle as ever,
yet carrying a tone that concealed something deeper:
"I knew you would return…
but not like this."
Sarah sat without asking permission.
After everything she had endured…
she no longer needed one.
Sarah spoke in a calm voice—
but one that carried wounds not yet healed.
It was not a declaration.
It was a mature confession, born of a heart that had learned loss.
"I went to Paradis as a spy… as you asked.
I entered their land with a map drawn from illusions of victory,
but the truth arrived there before I did.
I could not deceive them for long. They exposed me… and did not kill me.
And that alone is enough to tell us that Marley is no longer the power we once believed it to be, Willy."
Silence followed.
Willy turned away slowly, as though what he had heard did not surprise him…
but weighed upon him.
He spoke with the bitterness of a man who knew exactly where collapse had begun:
"Did you truly expect us to remain strong while building our power on the bodies of children?
Power, Sarah, does not build a nation… it builds fear.
And sadly… even fear is no longer ours."
Sarah rose, took two steps toward him, and said:
"Despite everything, I did not return empty-handed. I achieved what would astonish anyone who still dares to hope for peace.
I created a serum… one that restores Titans to their human form."
He froze for a moment. He did not turn, but his voice dropped:
"I knew you would reach something. That is why I did not stop you.
But allow me one honest question… whom do you serve now, Sarah?"
She lifted her brow calmly, her gaze sharp with awareness, and replied in a voice gentle yet unyielding:
"I do not work for the island. And I no longer believe much in slogans.
All I want… is a true bridge toward peace—one not built on exploitation or lies.
And you, Willy… are the only man in Marley who does not see me as an enemy, nor as a soldier fulfilling an order.
You see me as I am… a human being trying to save what can still be saved."
He turned to her and looked into her eyes for a long moment.
It was not the gaze of a politician.
It was the gaze of a man who remembered.
"Do you know… every night after my wife died, I saw you in my dreams—
as you were, before we were all sold at the auction of interests."
Sarah exhaled softly, but did not answer.
He continued, his voice growing more grave:
"What you have created is more dangerous than you realize.
Returning Titans to humanity means dismantling an entire system built on threat.
Marley has nothing left to offer the world without them."
She answered quietly, but with eyes ablaze:
"Then let it collapse.
Let something new begin… something less drenched in blood, less forged in lies."
He stepped closer. His voice now carried the weight of confession:
"Sarah… I have never seen you as a political adversary. Never.
But do not deceive me—what lies between us is more than visions of peace.
You… are my weakness."
She blinked in surprise, but he continued slowly:
"Do you think I have forgotten Mathis?"
Her hands tightened. Her heart constricted.
"You were the reason he disappeared."
He replied with lethal coldness:
"He loved you. But he was too weak for the world you live in.
I merely shortened his fall."
She said bitterly:
"You cut his wings before he could ever fly.
And now you ask me to choose your cage?"
"And I…" his voice hardened,
"am ready to cut down every wing that stands between you and me.
I only wish you would understand what that means."
Then—
he threw the photograph.
A man standing beneath Marley's sky…
his eyes not facing the camera, but something unseen.
Levi.
Sarah stared at it slowly. She did not touch it—
as if afraid her trembling heart might leave its mark on the glass.
He said nothing more.
He did not need to.
He stepped closer, until only one step remained between them.
His voice softened, but the weight of decision lay heavy within it:
"I do not want you as a spy.
Nor as a scientist hidden in laboratories.
Nor as an enemy across a table of politics.
I want you beside me… as a woman who knows that this world will not survive unless the strong stand together—
not against one another… but shoulder to shoulder."
Sarah looked at him for a long moment, then whispered without lowering her gaze:
"And do you consider me strong?"
Willy gave a faint smile, his voice carrying the tone of a vow:
"You are stronger than this world allows you to be.
And that is why… I fear it when you stand far from me."
The room fell still.
Then he added, in a rare gentleness:
"Marry me, Sarah.
Not as a contract, nor as a political offer—
but as a rare alliance between your womanhood and my manhood,
between your strength and my fears,
between our past… and something that might yet be written anew."
Sarah stepped back. In her voice shone a resolve edged with pain:
"I will not be anyone's instrument, Willy.
Not Marley's. Not Paradis'. Not even your heart's."
He nodded in understanding, as though the answer did not surprise him, and said calmly:
"I will give you two months.
Not to change your mind…
but to see what may happen if we do not seize this world before it burns."
He turned away.
And with his final steps, he cast his words like a prophecy:
"The world is on the brink of explosion…
and the two of us, Sarah… hold the matches."
Flashback – The Second Meeting: "The Key That Does Not Fit the Lock"
Marley – Friedman Estate, weeks after the reception
On a cool-leaning early morning, Sarah sat on the low wall of the palace's back garden, gazing at the withered cherry trees. Her hair was pulled back tightly, a small notebook resting on her lap, where she traced interlocking circles without purpose. Her features were still, but her mind teemed with everything left unspoken.
Measured footsteps broke the quiet. She turned to see her grandfather, Lord Friedman, in all his customary gravity.
"Sarah," he said softly—yet with the familiar weight that could alter the course of her day.
"Yes, Grandfather?"
He stopped before her, hands folded behind his back, eyes fixed on the garden as though it were an endless chessboard.
"Willy Tybur… will be visiting us this evening."
She raised her brows slowly. Said nothing.
He continued in a firmer tone:
"A prominent young man, of standing, trusted by the War Council. His presence in your life would be a turning point. And the notion of your union is not merely an idea."
Only then did Sarah close her notebook and look at him.
"Have you decided my future on my behalf… or is this an open auction among noble families?"
He did not smile, nor did he grow angry. He answered evenly:
"You are a daughter of this house. You are not an ordinary girl. Your choices must be weighed in blood and paper—not in the heart."
She hesitated, then whispered, as though testing the limits of pain:
"And what of Mathis?"
Time seemed to pause.
He exhaled slowly and said:
"Mathis? A kind young man… but he lacks political horizon. No backing, no weight. He is naïve, dreams beyond what he can carry. And you? You are not meant for dreams—but for influence."
Then he turned to leave. Before walking away, without looking back, he added:
"Conduct yourself with dignity tonight. The Tyburs do not come without reason."
Later that evening – The Palace Library
Golden light slipped shyly into the vast library. Sarah sat alone, turning the pages of a book she had borrowed from the Eastern Academy. The air carried the scent of paper and aged wood—but her mind was elsewhere.
Willy Tybur entered quietly. The maid had not announced him. As if he wanted a moment without ceremony.
"Books? I did not expect to find you amid something so unadorned," he said lightly, as though drawing a thread of conversation from nothing.
She raised her head slowly. A direct, gray gaze—calm, yet sharper than any word.
"And I did not expect to see you in my grandfather's home, Mr. Tybur."
She spoke with a coolness that stripped the air of familiarity.
He smiled—though it did not reach his eyes—then gestured toward the chair opposite.
"May I?"
"The chair is not mine. But my time is. Do not waste it."
He sat.
"I wished to apologize for my arrogance at the reception. I must have seemed like a conceited man, accustomed to women being charmed by him… perhaps because I am."
She closed the book gently.
"I do not require an apology. I did not consider you important enough to be offended."
He laughed—this time, truly.
"And that… is precisely why I could not forget you."
She looked at him directly.
"If you are here to flatter me, you have chosen the wrong path. My grandfather may see you as a potential husband… but I see only a stranger."
Willy said,
"Perhaps I am a stranger. But sometimes, strangers open doors the closest dare not touch."
She rose abruptly.
"And I believe in keys. But I am the key that does not fit your lock."
He stepped closer—but did not touch her. Only said:
"Every lock changes… when it learns how to wait."
She left the room.
Leaving him alone before an open book on page 117. In the margin, her handwriting read:
"I am not searching for a hero… but for quiet."
And he murmured:
"The strongest women… are those who wait for no one."
Reader Questions
Do you think Levi is finally beginning to emerge from his shell? And will his relationship with Sarah change after this night?
Do you believe Willy Tybur carries genuine love… or is it a love distorted by power and possession?
If you were in Sarah's place… how would you respond to Willy's dangerous offer? Could he be trusted?