Nana had been up since 5 AM preparing the lunchbox.
Which was ridiculous, because it was just food. Just a meal packed in a container. People did this every day without turning their kitchens into disaster zones.
But Nana was not most people, and cooking was not her strong suit.
Still, she was determined. Because if she was going to be someone's wife someday—Zayne's wife, specifically—she should probably be able to prepare food that didn't require the fire department's intervention.
The first attempt at tamagoyaki had been... optimistic. The eggs had somehow managed to be both burned and raw at the same time, which Nana hadn't thought was physically possible. Into the trash it went.
The second attempt was better. Only slightly charred on the edges. She could work with that.
By attempt number four, she had something that looked almost professional. Golden, rolled, perfect. She'd literally cheered out loud, startling her neighbor's cat on the windowsill outside.
Rice balls came next—easier, because they just required shaping. She made them with the care of someone defusing a bomb, ensuring each one was perfectly round and properly filled with pickled plum.
Then some cut vegetables for color, a few pieces of fried chicken (store-bought, she wasn't a miracle worker), and a small container of fresh fruit.
By the time she was done, Nana had a lunch that looked... actually good. Really good. Instagram-worthy, even.
She took about seventeen photos from different angles before carefully packing it into her motorcycle storage.
The hospital was busy as always when Nana arrived, but she'd timed it perfectly. Zayne's morning shift would be ending in about ten minutes, which meant he'd be heading to his office soon.
She found a spot near the nurses' station and settled in to wait, the lunchbox balanced carefully on her lap.
"Miss Wang!" Nurse Chen spotted her first. "Here to see Dr. Li again?"
"Yep! Brought him lunch today." Nana couldn't keep the proud smile off her face. "I made it myself. Without burning down my apartment."
"That's progress," Nurse Park said with a grin. "Last month you set off your smoke alarm making toast."
"That was ONE TIME. And the toaster was defective."
"It was a perfectly normal toaster."
"It was possessed by evil spirits that hated bread."
The nurses laughed, and Nana joined them in their gossip—who was dating who in the ER, which doctor had the worst bedside manner, the ongoing saga of the vending machine on the third floor that kept eating people's money.
It was nice. Normal. The kind of casual friendship that Nana had been craving since coming back from Avalon.
Because even though Tara and Nero were her teammates, even though they'd been friends for years... they didn't believe her about Avalon. Thought she'd had some kind of trauma-induced hallucination. Kept suggesting therapy with increasingly concerned expressions.
But the nurses didn't know about any of that. To them, Nana was just the enthusiastic hunter girlfriend who showed up too often and had a concerning habit of kicking things that should be shot.
"There he is," Nurse Kim said, nodding down the hallway.
Zayne appeared, walking with that measured pace that meant his shift had been long but not emergency-level chaotic. His white coat was pristine as always, his dark hair slightly mussed from wearing a surgical cap.
He looked tired. And beautiful. And Nana's heart did that stupid fluttering thing it always did when she saw him.
"Zayne!" She bounced over, the lunchbox held up like a trophy. "Look! I made you lunch!"
He blinked, clearly surprised. "You made lunch. You. Made lunch."
"Yes! Me! I have skills! I'm not just a wanderer-kicking machine!"
"I never said you were just a wanderer-kicking machine."
"You thought it though."
"I absolutely did not." But he was smiling now, that soft smile reserved just for her. "Let me see."
Nana opened the lunchbox with a flourish, revealing her hard work.
Zayne's expression shifted from polite interest to genuine surprise. "Nana... this looks amazing. You really made this?"
"All by myself! Well, I watched like seven YouTube videos and called my mom twice, but the actual cooking was all me!"
"I'm impressed." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, which made Nana's heart soar and also made Nurse Chen make a sound like a dying kettle. "Thank you. This is very thoughtful."
"You're welcome! Now you have to eat all of it and tell me it's delicious even if it's terrible."
"I'm sure it's not terrible."
"I'm not. But you're eating it anyway because you love me."
"That is accurate."
Nana was about to respond when she noticed a group of Zayne's colleagues passing by—three doctors from cardiology who were trying very hard not to stare.
Perfect opportunity.
She stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to Zayne's cheek. Right there. In the middle of the hospital hallway. In front of his colleagues and the nurses and probably half the staff.
Zayne's entire face went red. "Nana—"
"What? I can't kiss my boyfriend?"
"We are in a professional environment—"
"Where you're currently off-shift and being given homemade food by your girlfriend."
"That's not—the principle is—" He was flustered enough that his words were coming out jumbled, which was rare and adorable.
The passing colleagues giggled and whispered to each other. Nurse Chen was definitely taking a photo. Zayne looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.
Nana just grinned wider.
"Eat your lunch, Doctor Li," she said sweetly. "And text me later to tell me how delicious it was. Even if you have to lie."
"I won't have to lie," he said, but his ears were still bright red. He patted her head—that awkward gesture that had become their thing—and then added quietly, "And please. Please don't kick any Wanderers with your bare leg today."
"I make no promises."
"Nana."
"Fine. I'll wear boots."
"That's not—" He sighed, giving up. "Just be careful. Please. I worry."
Something warm bloomed in Nana's chest. "I will. I promise. Just a routine patrol anyway. Nothing dangerous."
She reached into his breast pocket—the move so familiar now that he didn't even flinch—and pulled out the strawberry candy she knew would be there. He'd been keeping them stocked since day one, hidden in the same pocket, always available for when she showed up unannounced.
"For the road," she said, unwrapping it. "Thanks for the sugar, boyfriend."
"You're going to get cavities."
"Worth it."
She popped the candy in her mouth, waved goodbye to the nurses, blew Zayne a kiss that made his ears redden again, and bounced toward the exit, singing off-key to herself.
Behind her, she heard Nurse Chen say, "You two are disgustingly cute," and Zayne's muttered, "She's ridiculous," that somehow sounded incredibly fond.
Nana's smile widened. Life was good. Complicated and sometimes lonely when she thought about Avalon, but good.
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The forest on Linkon's outskirts was dense in a way that felt almost primordial. Old trees with thick trunks blocked out the sun, leaving the ground in perpetual twilight. The air was heavy with moisture and the smell of earth and decay.
Nana parked her motorcycle at the forest edge and checked her equipment. Gun loaded. Spare ammunition. Communication device. First aid kit. All standard protocol for solo patrols.
She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Zayne:
**Starting solo mission in the forest. Don't worry, I can handle this! Will text when I'm done. Love you! 💕**
His response came almost immediately:
**Be careful. Call if you need backup. I love you too.**
Nana smiled at the screen, tucked her phone away, and headed into the trees.
The civilian reports had mentioned Wanderer activity near the old hiking trail, about two kilometers in. Nana walked with practiced quiet, her senses on high alert for any signs of disturbance.
The forest was eerily quiet. No birds. No small animals rustling in the underbrush. Just silence broken occasionally by the whisper of wind through branches.
Classic Wanderer territory.
She found the first one near a cluster of fallen trees—a low-level creature, barely more than a shimmer in the air. It was trying to claw at tree bark, leaving scorched marks where its energy-based body made contact.
Nana watched it for a moment, then shook her head. Too easy. Not even worth using her gun.
She walked up casually, the Wanderer still oblivious to her presence, and kicked it square in the chest.
The impact sent it flying backward into a tree trunk. Before it could recover, Nana was on it—another kick, this one to what passed for its head, slamming it hard into the ground.
The Wanderer dissolved into dust and sparkles, gone in seconds.
"Pathetic," Nana muttered, already moving deeper into the forest.
She found three more over the next hour. All low-level. All dispatched with the same casual efficiency—kicks, slams, occasional use of her aether core when she felt like showing off.
It was almost disappointing how easy it was.
Nana settled on a fallen tree trunk to rest, pulling out her water bottle. The forest around her was still eerily quiet, but she'd cleared the immediate area. The civilians should be safe to use the hiking trails again.
As she drank, her mind wandered. Specifically, it wandered to a question that had been nagging at her for over a year now:
Why was she so strong?
She'd always been a capable hunter. Class S didn't come easy—you had to be skilled and powerful to earn that ranking. But what she could do now... it was different. Better. Stronger.
The way she could kick Wanderers that should require concentrated gun fire. The way her aether core had evolved to enhance her physical abilities beyond what should be possible. The way she never seemed to get truly hurt anymore—scratches and bruises, sure, but nothing serious. Nothing that didn't heal within days.
Tara couldn't do what Nana did. Neither could Nero. Not even Captain Jenna, who was legendary in the Hunter Association and rarely went on missions anymore because she was so valuable in strategic planning.
None of them could fight the way Nana fought.
"Just Avalon," she whispered to the empty forest. "Avalon made me like this."
Nine months of constant combat. Nine months of fighting for survival every single day. Nine months of pushing her body and her evol beyond every reasonable limit because death wasn't an option when forgetting everything was the alternative.
That's what had made her strong. That's what had honed her into this weapon-person hybrid.
But nobody believed Avalon had existed.
The portal was gone. Vanished like it had never been there. The cave was just a cave now—she'd checked a dozen times. Nothing magical. Nothing impossible. Just rock and earth and perfectly normal geology.
Zayne had been reset. His memories erased, his body restored to pre-Avalon condition. He didn't remember dying six times. Didn't remember fighting beside her. Didn't remember the Ancient Tree or the blood moon or their desperate escape.
And Mina... Jisu...
Nana pulled out her phone and opened the Avalon Survivors website she'd created. Still zero notifications. Still no messages. Still no sign that anyone else remembered that nightmare realm.
She refreshed the page anyway. Just in case.
Still nothing.
"Where are you?" Nana asked the empty screen. "Mina, if you made it out... if you're alive somewhere... why haven't you found me? Why hasn't anyone?"
But she knew the answer. If they'd died in Avalon—which they probably had—they'd have no memories. Would be living normal lives somewhere, not even knowing they should be looking for a website about impossible realms and ice portals.
Nana was alone in her memories. The only one who carried the weight of what had happened.
She'd stopped talking to Tara and Nero about it last month. After the third intervention where they'd gently suggested therapy and medication and maybe taking some time off from active duty.
"You've been through trauma," Tara had said, her expression full of concern. "Sometimes our brains create elaborate stories to process things we can't handle. It doesn't mean you're crazy. It just means you need help."
But it wasn't a story. It was real. It had happened.
Except she was the only one who believed that.
Even Zayne...
Nana thought about their conversation at the festival. About how he'd said he wanted to know the truth when he was ready. About how his dreams were showing him fragments of Avalon.
But how could she tell him? How could she explain that he'd died six times, that she'd watched him suffer, that she'd literally stabbed him to death to save him from becoming a vampire?
He'd think she was insane. Would look at her the way he had in the forest after they'd escaped—concerned, worried, like she was having a mental breakdown.
And maybe she was. Maybe everyone was right and she'd just snapped under pressure and created this elaborate delusion about ice portals and death realms and—
No.
Nana clenched her fists, feeling her aether core pulse in response to her emotion.
It was real. She knew it was real. The website she'd built, the skills she'd gained, the scars that had healed but she could still feel sometimes when she dreamed.
Mina had been real. Jisu had been real. The Ancient Tree and the Wish Bridge and Zayne's six deaths—all of it had been real.
She just had to figure out why the universe was so determined to make her look crazy for remembering it.
Nana stood up, brushing off her pants. The patrol was done. The Wanderers were cleared. She should head back, text Zayne that she was safe, go home and pretend everything was normal.
But as she walked back toward her motorcycle, something caught her eye.
A camera. Small, well-hidden in the branches of a tree, pointing toward the area where she'd fought the Wanderers.
Nana froze.
That... that wasn't standard. The Hunter Association didn't put surveillance in random forest areas. This was too remote, too specific.
She moved closer, using her enhanced vision to examine it without touching.
It was professional-grade. Military, maybe. Definitely not civilian equipment.
And it was pointed exactly where she'd been fighting.
Like someone had known she'd be here. Like someone had been watching.
Nana's blood ran cold.
She pulled out her phone and took several photos of the camera from different angles. Then, carefully, she continued her walk back to the motorcycle, keeping her expression neutral in case anything else was recording.
But her mind was racing.
Who would put cameras in the forest? Why? Were they watching her specifically or just monitoring Wanderer activity?
And why did this feel connected to something bigger? Something she couldn't quite piece together yet but felt important?
Nana reached her motorcycle and sent another text to Zayne:
**Mission complete. All clear. Heading home now. See you tonight? 💕**
But as she rode away from the forest, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
That maybe Avalon being forgotten wasn't an accident.
That maybe someone wanted her to look crazy for remembering.
That maybe—just maybe—she wasn't as alone in her memories as she thought.
Someone else knew. Someone was watching.
And Nana was going to find out who.
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To be continued.