The appearance of Sera within the Temple of Light was not a quiet one. Unlike the temple enforcer, who had returned to his place as though he had never left, Sera arrived in a gathering of brilliant light. Her form coalesced a few steps before the bowing Zafyrus.
Dressed in a pure white, flowing dress, with hair as white as the golden figure's and Curtis's, she offered a slight bow.
"You summoned me, my Lord."
The golden figure smiled at her formality. With a wave of his hand, the platform of light bearing the hunched, terrified Curtis glided toward her.
"Here," he said. "The key to our victory."
Sera, who had not bothered to note the others in the hall, finally lifted her head. Her eyes fell upon Curtis—a scared, trembling boy delivered to her by a slab of light.
"The key to our victory?" she echoed, a sharp edge of skepticism in her voice. "A scared child?"
The golden figure nodded, a soft hum of affirmation in his throat. "Yes, Sera. You have the next twenty years to groom him into a warrior capable of standing on the front lines beside you and your siblings."
Sera's intense gaze remained fixed on Curtis for a long moment before she turned back to the throne, bowing again as she pressed her question. "My Lord, I understand he possesses a God Rank relic potential. But any of my siblings—myself included—wield relics we can harness completely. Why waste decades on a child with nothing but potential?"
Uncharacteristically patient, the golden figure replied, his voice soft. "It has nothing to do with his potential, my dear Sera. According to the Temple's High Seer, he is the 'key'. And you know you may call me—"
"Father?" Sera's face contorted visibly, her voice tinged with sudden, visceral anger. "That old bastard who can't see beyond a few steps? His words are what we are trusting… 'my Lord'?" She gritted out the last honorific, her displeasure laid bare.
Still, the golden figure smiled. "Oh, Sera. Your anger blinds you to the larger design. All I ask is that you believe in 'me', not in Isaac." His eyes held a knowing glint. "Or do you think I would stake our future on the vision of a seer alone?"
"I can't accept Odden-" Just before Sera could continue her words,
"SERA!!! I will not be questioned further. Take him to the High Academy of Light. Have him sign a Soul contract with the Empire. In twenty years, I require a warrior ready to stand beside your siblings." The golden figure raised his voice, his spiritual pressure increasing the tension within the hall. Still, he controlled his energy carefully; releasing even ten percent could have killed them all.
Sera protected herself and Curtis from the energy her Father was releasing, feeling her father's seriousness, and responded with caution. "Yes, my Lord." She grabbed Curtis, teleporting herself and the boy away in a flash of light.
Quiet returned to the hall. The golden figure, seeing Zafyrus still bowing, dismissed him immediately.
Zafyrus quickly exited. The moment the massive doors closed behind him, he staggered and spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. Even restrained, the golden figure's energy had borne down on him, leaving him injured. He hurried away, trying to forget everything he had witnessed. Some things were not meant to be remembered—or spoken of.
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Almost as if he had only been taking a short nap, Neo opened his eyes slowly, staring unblinking at the ceiling. This was a new apartment, entirely different from the place he had first woken up in.
Thinking back—the nine months alone on Earth, the memory of his mother's death, Curtis's abduction, and then the harrowing eternity in the dark void—he didn't have the energy to even look around. A single tear traced down his temple as he lay there, wondering what he had done to deserve all of this.
***Chill.***
Just as his emotions threatened to spill, the familiar numbness swept over him, sealing everything down.
*Heh.*
He raised a hand to wipe the tear away.
"Hi" a female voice said from beside the bed. " If it helps… I gave her a proper funeral."
He turned his head toward the voice, staring blankly at her face, letting the weight of her words settle.
"Is something wrong with my face?" she asked with a slight smirk, trying to lift the mood. It didn't work. He just stared.
"Oh, I'm—"
"Helen," he finally spoke, his voice flat. He turned his gaze away again and muttered softly, "Thank you."
Helen was a fiery-looking redhead with fierce eyes and freckles that added a hint of softness to her expression. "B-but how?" she stammered. "How do you know my name?"
Adrift in his thoughts, he didn't answer right away, leaving her standing there confused.
"Can you take me to see her?" Neo asked, ignoring her question.
"Um, yes… but I'd advise you to rest more before moving around. You were hit pretty hard," Helen said, concern lining her voice.
"I just need to see her. I'll rest after."
Feeling the dizziness and the deep ache in his body, he knew he wasn't in good shape. But he needed to go.
Helen nodded, helping him sit up and then stand. She supported him with an arm around his back, moving slowly toward the door. They entered a beautiful, large courtyard. Several unmarked graves lay scattered around, but Helen knew the way. She moved patiently, matching his slow, unsteady pace.
All the way to the right corner of the courtyard, Helen walked patiently with Neo as he pulled his weak body along. They stopped in front of an unmarked grave, just like the many others scattered around. Neo finally let go of Helen's support, and she took it as a signal to step back and give him space.
Neo fell to his knees deliberately. Helen moved to help him, but he raised a hand, signaling he was fine. She stayed back and watched.
He just knelt there in silence, staring at the bare earth. He opened his mouth several times, trying to say something—anything—but with the chill tightening its leash at the back of his mind, his emotions were held down, sealed away. He simply stared.
Five minutes passed. Then ten.
Finally, Helen spoke softly. "I think we need to go back in now. I'll have some customers to attend to soon. I can't leave you out here alone."
Neo nodded. With her support, he rose unsteadily and let her guide him back toward the building—which, from this angle, he could now see was a modest, weathered building.