The portal's glow faded, and the five Light Weapon wielders found themselves back in the jungles of Sarawak, standing before the ancient stone structure. Now, it appeared as nothing more than ordinary rocks, its mysterious energy and radiance gone. The relics, too, had reverted to ordinary weapons, their former power extinguished.
Yeh Yao stood motionless, staring at the stones as if willing them to reactivate—to take him back to the Garden of the Lost, back to Alicia. But the structure remained silent, the jungle around them alive only with the rustle of leaves and distant bird calls.
"Yeh Yao," Michelle said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We should go."
Yeh Yao didn't respond, his hollow gaze fixed on the stones.
"She's gone," Kristina said bluntly yet gently. "I know it hurts, but we can't stay here forever."
"I know," Yeh Yao finally replied, his voice rough and low. "It's just… it doesn't feel real. An hour ago, she was beside me, and now…"
His words trailed off, choked by grief.
"We'll all miss her," Eunice said tenderly, tears in her eyes. "She was the bravest of us all."
"She saved everyone," Nasser added, reverence in his voice. "Not just our world, but all worlds."
Yeh Yao nodded, but their words did little to ease the agony in his chest. An emptiness gnawed at him—a void where part of his soul had been torn away.
"We should call the helicopter," Michelle suggested practically. "Marcus will be worried."
Yeh Yao nodded again, mechanically following the others away from the stone structure and back into the jungle. His body moved, but his mind remained in the Garden of the Lost, replaying Alicia's final smile and words:
"The people are in danger. Save them… I can't hold on any longer… I love you…"
Those words echoed endlessly in his mind—both a comfort and a torment. She had loved him, just as he loved her. But now, that love was only a memory, a dream forever out of reach.
The helicopter arrived swiftly, returning them to civilization. During the flight, Michelle contacted Marcus, briefly explaining what had happened. When she mentioned Alicia's sacrifice, a long silence followed before Marcus finally sighed heavily.
"I'm so sorry," he said at last, his voice heavy with sorrow. "She was extraordinary."
"Yes, she was," Michelle murmured, glancing at Yeh Yao, who sat in the corner staring blankly out the window, detached from everything around him.
The helicopter landed at a private airstrip in Kuala Lumpur, where Marcus was waiting. He greeted each of them with an embrace, holding Yeh Yao tighter and longer.
"I can't imagine what you're feeling," he told Yeh Yao. "But know that we're here for you."
Yeh Yao nodded but said nothing. He felt numb, as if trapped in a dream—or rather, a nightmare.
Marcus led them to a safe house where they could rest, recover, and process what had happened. The residence was spacious and comfortable, with private rooms and shared living spaces.
"I've arranged for food and supplies," Marcus told them. "Let me know if you need anything. We can discuss next steps tomorrow."
The others thanked him, but Yeh Yao silently retreated to his assigned room, shutting the door and isolating himself from the world.
Alone, he finally allowed himself to break. Silent tears streamed down his face as he curled up on the bed, consumed by a pain and loneliness unlike anything he'd ever known. Alicia had been more than his closest friend and love—she had been the constant in his life, from childhood to adulthood. Now, her absence left a void that seemed impossible to fill.
Yeh Yao didn't know how long he cried or when he finally fell asleep. When he awoke, it was dark outside, the room pitch-black. Exhaustion weighed on him, but the pain in his heart remained just as sharp.
He rose and went to the window, gazing at the city lights below. The world kept turning, people kept living, completely unaware of what had happened—of the girl who had sacrificed herself to save them all. The contrast filled him with a strange mix of anger and helplessness.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Yeh Yao?" Michelle's voice called softly. "Are you awake? We made dinner if you'd like to join."
Yeh Yao hesitated, then opened the door. Michelle stood there, concern etched on her face.
"I'm not hungry," he said hoarsely.
"I know," she replied gently. "But you need to eat. And… we're worried about you."
After a pause, Yeh Yao nodded. Perhaps being with the others would be better than solitude.
He followed her to the kitchen, where the rest had gathered around the table. When he entered, the conversation halted, all eyes turning to him with sympathy and care.
"Hey," Nasser said quietly. "How are you holding up?"
"Not well," Yeh Yao admitted honestly, sitting down. "But thank you."
"We're here for you," Eunice said softly. "Whatever you need."
"Exactly," Kristina said firmly. "We're a team. A family. We'll get through this together."
A flicker of warmth pierced Yeh Yao's grief. These people weren't just comrades—they were friends, family. They understood his pain because they, too, loved Alicia and mourned her loss.
Dinner was simple and quiet. No one pressured Yeh Yao to speak, but their presence offered silent support. Occasionally, someone would share a memory of Alicia, keeping her spirit alive in small, tender ways.
"Remember in Yunnan?" Eunice smiled. "The local children adored Alicia. She taught them origami cranes—so patient, even with the language barrier."
"Or in Russia," Kristina added. "During that blizzard, she told those Malaysian folktales to keep our spirits up. She always knew how to bring light to the darkest moments."
"In London," Michelle recalled, "she was so fascinated by my research, asking endless questions. Her curiosity was infectious."
"In Hawaii," Nasser chuckled, "she was the first to try surfing despite never having done it before. She wiped out so many times but never quit until she could stand on the board. That determination was inspiring."
Each story, each memory, made Alicia feel more vivid in Yeh Yao's heart. The pain remained, but now mingled with warmth—gratitude for having known her, loved her, been loved by her.
"Thank you," Yeh Yao finally said, his voice low but sincere. "This… helps."
"We all needed this," Michelle said gently. "Sharing memories is how we honor her—keep her alive in our hearts."
After dinner, they moved to the living room, continuing to reminisce. As the night deepened, the conversation turned to the future.
"The relics lost their power," Kristina noted, eyeing the five ordinary weapons on the table. "What does that mean? Is our mission over?"
"I think so," Michelle mused. "The Guardian said the multiverse is balanced. Maybe we don't need the relics anymore."
"So what now?" Nasser asked. "Go back to normal lives?"
"I'm not sure I remember what 'normal' is," Eunice murmured. "Not after everything."
Yeh Yao, who had been silent, finally spoke: "We each need to find our own path. Our mission is complete. Now, we decide what comes next."
"What about you, Yeh Yao?" Michelle asked softly. "Any plans?"
He hesitated. "I don't know. Return to the university, keep teaching, I suppose. But it feels… incomplete. Without Alicia, nothing's the same."
"Maybe you need time," Eunice suggested. "Time to heal, to think, to decide."
Yeh Yao nodded. "Time."
But a voice inside him wondered: Could time ever heal a loss this profound? A world without Alicia would never feel whole.
As the night wore on, the others gradually retired until only Yeh Yao remained in the living room. He sat by the window, staring at the night sky, pondering life, loss, and possibilities.
Eventually, exhaustion overtook him, and he returned to his room, slipping into another restless sleep.
In the following days, the five stayed in Kuala Lumpur to recover. Marcus arranged a small memorial—just the six of them—to honor Alicia's sacrifice.
The ceremony was simple yet solemn. Each shared memories and feelings about Alicia. Yeh Yao spoke last, his voice quiet but steady:
"Alicia wasn't just my closest friend—she was my soulmate. From childhood, she stood by me, supported me, understood me, loved me. She saw the best in me even when I couldn't. Her courage, wisdom, and love shaped who I am."
He paused, steadying himself before continuing:
"Her sacrifice saved everyone—not just our world, but all worlds. That's the immeasurable depth of her love and bravery. I'll miss her forever. Love her forever. But I'll also try to live as she'd want me to—with courage, compassion, and hope. That's how I'll honor her."
After the memorial, the group began making plans. Michelle would return to London to continue her research on disaster prediction; Eunice and Nasser planned to document indigenous knowledge in Yunnan; Kristina would rejoin the Russian military but focus on international relief efforts.
Only Yeh Yao remained uncertain. Without Alicia, the future seemed formless.
The night before their departure, Marcus found Yeh Yao alone on the balcony.
"Have you decided what's next?" Marcus asked gently, taking a seat beside him.
"Not yet," Yeh Yao admitted, watching the city lights. "Everything feels… unreal. I don't know how to move forward without her."
Marcus considered this, then said, "I have a proposal, if you're willing to hear it."
Yeh Yao gestured for him to continue.
"The Watchers need someone like you," Marcus said. "Experienced, compassionate, someone who understands the world's complexities. We're expanding our education and outreach programs—preparing people for future challenges. You could lead that effort, using your teaching background."
Yeh Yao turned the idea over in his mind. It would give him purpose, a way to channel his grief.
"Can I think about it?" he finally asked.
"Of course," Marcus nodded. "Take your time. Rest. Heal. When you're ready, we'll be here."
The next day, the group parted ways. Their goodbyes were emotional—full of hugs, tears, and promises to stay connected.
"We're still a team," Michelle said before leaving. "A family. No matter how far apart we are."
"For Alicia," Nasser added, raising his hand as they once had.
The others joined in, repeating their oath: "For the future, for hope, for courage, for justice, for friendship."
The familiar ritual brought comfort, a reminder that even with one missing, they remained bound together.
After the others left, Yeh Yao returned to Sarawak—to where it all began. He needed time to think, to heal, to decide his path.
Marcus arranged his travel, assuring him of his support. "Remember," he told Yeh Yao, "you're not alone. We're here for you."
Yeh Yao nodded gratefully before beginning his journey home.
Sarawak was both familiar and foreign to Yeh Yao. The streets, the people—they were the same, yet everything felt different. Or perhaps he was the one who had changed, unable to see the world the same way after all he'd experienced.
His parents welcomed him warmly, though they knew nothing of his true ordeal. To them, he was simply a professor home on leave. He didn't tell them about the relics, the monsters, or the multiverse—nor Alicia's true fate. Instead, he said she had gone abroad for studies and wouldn't return for a long time.
The lie weighed on him, but he couldn't bear to explain the truth.
His days at home passed quietly. He helped his father with repairs, accompanied his mother to the market, caught up with old friends. These ordinary acts provided solace, a tether to normalcy, though the ache in his heart remained.
Every evening, he visited a nearby hill—a place he and Alicia had frequented as children. They would lie on the grass, counting stars, sharing stories and dreams. Now, he sat there alone, her absence a palpable void.
One night, as he gazed at the stars, a voice interrupted his thoughts.
"I knew I'd find you here."
Yeh Yao turned to see Marcus approaching, his silhouette outlined by moonlight.
"Marcus?" Yeh Yao blinked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking on you," Marcus said, sitting beside him. "Seeing how you're doing."
"I'm not sure 'doing' is the right word," Yeh Yao murmured, looking back at the sky. "More like… learning to live with the pain."
Marcus nodded. "There's no shortcut for grief."
They sat in comfortable silence before Marcus spoke again.
"Have you thought about my offer?"
"I have," Yeh Yao admitted. "But I'm not sure I'm ready. I feel… incomplete."
"That's understandable," Marcus said gently. "But sometimes, helping others is how we heal ourselves. Purpose can bring meaning."
Yeh Yao considered this. Perhaps Marcus was right. Perhaps continuing Alicia's work—protecting and teaching others—was the best way to honor her.
"I'll try," he decided. "But I'll need time to arrange things with the university."
"Of course," Marcus agreed. "No rush."
They lapsed into silence again, enjoying the night's tranquility.
"You know," Marcus said suddenly, "the Guardian's words might have meant more than we realized."
Yeh Yao turned to him. "How so?"
"About the multiverse and eternal separation," Marcus explained. "I've been researching this. The multiverse theory suggests infinite possibilities, infinite realities. In some, events may have unfolded differently."
"You mean… in another reality, Alicia might not have been lost?" Yeh Yao asked, a fragile hope in his voice.
"Possibly," Marcus said carefully. "Or she might have survived, sent to another reality or time. The Guardian said, 'In the infinite multiverse, no parting is truly eternal.' That could be comfort—or a clue."
Yeh Yao felt something stir in his chest—hope, fragile but real.
"Even if true," he whispered, "how would we find her? The multiverse is infinite."
"It is," Marcus conceded. "But the Watchers have resources, knowledge. We can research, experiment. No guarantees, but isn't it worth trying?"
Yeh Yao's resolve hardened. "Yes. For Alicia, I'd try anything."
Marcus smiled, clasping his shoulder. "Then that's our new mission. Not just education and protection—but a search. A way to cross the multiverse and find Alicia."
Yeh Yao nodded, a newfound determination filling him. The pain remained, but now tempered by hope. Perhaps this wasn't an ending, but another beginning.
In the months that followed, Yeh Yao worked with Marcus to establish the Watchers' education division. Drawing on his teaching experience, he developed programs on environmental protection, sustainability, and disaster preparedness.
The work gave him purpose, a way to channel his grief into something positive. Meanwhile, he and Marcus never abandoned their search for Alicia. They studied multiverse theories, gathered data on spacetime travel, and pursued every lead.
The others contributed as well: Michelle's research advanced their understanding of spacetime; Eunice and Nasser uncovered ancient texts in Yunnan about "travel between worlds"; Kristina found records of Soviet-era spacetime experiments in Russian archives.
Each small discovery fueled Yeh Yao's hope. He knew the road would be long—perhaps years, perhaps a lifetime. But for Alicia, he would wait. He would try.
One evening, as Yeh Yao worked late in the Watchers' Hong Kong headquarters, Marcus rushed in, excitement lighting his face.
"We might have something," he said breathlessly. "Michelle's latest research identifies 'echo points'—places where spacetime weakens, creating links between realities."
"What does that mean?" Yeh Yao asked, his pulse quickening.
"Theoretically, we could create temporary bridges at these points," Marcus explained. "Not permanent gates, but enough to transmit information—or energy."
"Or people?" Yeh Yao pressed.
"Possibly," Marcus cautioned. "But it's risky. We need more research, more testing."
"Whatever it takes," Yeh Yao said firmly. "For Alicia. For everyone."
Marcus nodded, and together, they began planning their next steps. The journey would be arduous, filled with uncertainty. But for Yeh Yao, it was hope. A reason to keep going.
Whether on the hills of Sarawak, in a Hong Kong office, or anywhere in the world, Yeh Yao could still feel Alicia's presence—as if she had never truly left. Perhaps it was just memory and love. Perhaps it was the multiverse's magic. But it gave him the strength to live, to search, to believe.
Because in the infinite multiverse, no parting is truly eternal.
Where there is love, hope, and determination, someday—they would meet again.