Warren observed the younger man for a long moment. "Well, my name is Warren," he finally said, breaking the silence.
Aaron nodded. A heavy quiet settled between them before the old man spoke again. "I am truly happy that I'm selling this house to you."
Aaron looked up, surprised by the sudden warmth in the man's voice.
"It feels good to be leaving," Warren continued. He caught Aaron's eye, his expression turning solemn. "I didn't want to abandon this place. I wanted to hand it to someone who would actually care for it. This house... it's been my everything."
"You can rest assured, Mr. Warren," Aaron replied with a respectful tilt of his head. "It's in good hands."
The old man offered a small, tired smile. They finalized the transaction quickly, and soon the property papers bore Aaron's name. Warren extended a hand. "Congratulations on your new home."
"Thank you, sir. I hope you find happiness in your next chapter."
Warren smiled again, though Aaron noticed the glint of tears in the corners of his eyes. This house is my everything. The words echoed in Aaron's mind. He's just like me, Aaron thought. Forced to leave a home behind, just as I was.
Warren's phone buzzed. He dialed a number and spoke into the receiver, "Yes, I'm ready. The house is sold. Now... now I can rest."
"My driver will be there shortly to collect you, Father," a voice replied from the other end.
"Very well," Warren said, ending the call. He turned back to Aaron. "My son has sent a car for me."
"Please, Mr. Warren, make yourself comfortable on the sofa until it arrives," Aaron gestured toward the seat. Warren thanked him and sat, looking around the room one last time.
Part II: The Ghost in the Rain
When the car arrived, Aaron carried Warren's suitcases out and settled them into the back seat. Warren opened the passenger door but hesitated, standing in the rain for a moment. Aaron gave a final, respectful wave before heading back inside.
From the upstairs window, Aaron watched as the old man stood motionless in the downpour, staring at the walls that had held his entire life. Warren let out a visible sob, then finally climbed into the car and disappeared into the gray mist.
Aaron shed his damp jacket and took a deep breath, the silence of the empty house wrapping around him. The interior was old-fashioned but impeccably kept.
First things first, he thought, supplies. The remaining money should cover the essentials.
He pulled a card from his pocket—one labeled with a name that carried a heavy weight: Dream. He sat on the sofa, his fingers tracing the edges of the card. Everything he once owned would now belong to Ava, his wife—his only surviving family. But this card... he'd had it with him during that final meal with his old friends.
His fists clenched as the memory of Rad's final breaths flashed through his mind. He stood abruptly, walked to the kitchen, and downed a glass of water to steady his nerves.
Thankfully, they can't trace the Dream card, he mused. No one knows it exists but me and her.
Standing at the window, Aaron stared at his reflection. He needed a plan. I need to find work that allows me to investigate Kevin before the money runs out.
He pulled a stack of photos from his backpack and began arranging them on the wall, turning the living room into a makeshift command center. He pinned up a photo of Ron and Dream, followed by one of his two daughters. Finally, he hung a picture of himself and Ava.
He looked at his own face in the images, then at the group shot of himself, Dream, Ai, and Ines. A realization flickered in his mind, but he pushed it aside. Focus. Kevin comes first.
He caught his reflection in the glass, looking much as he did the day his eyes first opened in Hero Town. He was dressed in a crisp black shirt with the top button undone, black trousers, and a watch on his left wrist.
Reaching for his black newsboy cap, he pulled it low over his eyes. He donned his long coat, straightened his collar, and stepped out into the heavy rain. The hunt was on.
Elsewhere | Capital City.
In a dimly lit chamber, the Nine Heads sat in their high-backed seats. Ross stood before them, tracing a plan across a map. Rio sat reclined, his mind elsewhere. How can I get my hands on Dream's book? he wondered.
At the exact moment Aaron's boots hit the pavement of Capital City, the atmosphere in the room shifted.
Ross stopped mid-sentence. Every person in the room felt a sudden, jarring presence—an unfamiliar energy that cut through the air like a cold blade. Rio turned his head toward the floor-to-ceiling window, his green eyes beginning to glow with a faint, predatory light.
"What is this?" one of the Foster Heads whispered, looking around nervously. "I feel it too. A strange presence."
Eirene glanced at Rio, noting his fixated stare. "Is there a problem, Second Head?"
The others turned to Rio.
"Someone strong just entered the city," Rio said, his voice eerily calm.
"Who?" a woman with shock-white hair demanded.
"I don't know. I've never sensed this specific signature before."
Ross narrowed his eyes. "Alert all Foster Units. Full standby."
Rio let out a soft, sharp laugh. "I don't think he's here for us, Ross."
"What do you mean?"
Rio's smile widened, though his eyes remained cold. "I can feel it. He's here for someone specific. He's angry, he's focused... and he's about to hunt."