[Origin World – Zeydan Rothveil's Apartment, Morning, 09:09 AM]
The morning breeze slipped through the gap in the small apartment's window.
The faint chirping of sparrows blended with the sound of traffic beginning to crowd the city streets.
The white light that had just faded in front of the door left behind a figure — Zeydan — standing in the narrow hallway of his apartment.
His breathing was slightly ragged, his black hair messy from the dimensional travel he'd just endured.
He looked around — the wooden floor, the shoe rack, the faint scent of soap from the bathroom that had just been used.
Everything... felt real.
He was back.
Zeydan slowly rubbed his face.
(So… I really came back), he murmured softly, his voice trembling between relief and confusion.
He glanced left and right but didn't see Mireya anywhere.
(Maybe she already made it home…) he thought, taking a deep breath.
As he stepped inside and gently closed the door, a voice came from the living room — a soft voice he knew very well.
"...Zeydan?"
Zeydan froze instantly. His eyes widened.
He ran toward the sound.
There, sitting on the soft chair by the window, was a woman with half-white hair, wearing pastel pajamas and a thick blanket over her lap.
Her eyes were gentle, though dimmed by fatigue.
"Mom…" Zeydan's voice trembled.
Before he could say anything else, his mother stood up slowly — though her body looked frail — and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Thank goodness you're safe, my son…" she said hoarsely, her tone warm and fragile.
Zeydan stood still for a moment before returning the hug.
Her body felt cold and delicate.
"I'm sorry, Mom… I made you worry again," he whispered, closing his eyes, sinking into the long-overdue warmth of that embrace.
After a few seconds, she released him, smiling faintly.
"It's alright… what matters is that you came back safely. But… where did you go, Zeydan? You were gone for two hours, but it felt like you'd vanished all night."
Zeydan looked at the clock on the wall — 09:09 AM.
Only two hours had passed in this world.
But in his mind, he had lived through six long hours in Santara.
"This… is kind of hard to explain, Mom," he said, staring down.
Then he pulled out a chair and sat across from her. With a calm but serious tone, he began to tell his story.
About the Farlios forest, about Ardelle the horned elf, the monster called Mostole, Mireya, and the blinding light that had taken them away.
His mother listened quietly, nodding now and then, her face unreadable — somewhere between disbelief and wonder.
When Zeydan finished, she simply smiled faintly.
"If that's true, then you've seen a world far greater than I could ever imagine."
She coughed softly, then added in a tender voice,
"But no matter how beautiful that world is… be careful, Zeydan. We never know what kind of dangers might be waiting there."
Zeydan lowered his gaze. "I will, Mom…"
A few minutes later, he got up and walked to his room.
The wooden floor creaked softly under his steps.
The small but tidy room was bathed in sunlight leaking through half-open curtains, shining upon the wall where a few old photos hung — one of them showing him with his father and his missing brother, Ivan.
Zeydan opened the closet, took out his bag, and carefully placed the Photon Edge sword inside the bottom drawer, tucking it beneath Ivan's school jacket.
The blue glow from the energy blade pulsed briefly before fading completely.
(Don't worry… I won't forget), he whispered softly.
Then he hung his Warden uniform — a black tactical jacket with blue stripes — on the side of the closet. His movements were slow, as if realizing the weight behind every fold of fabric.
Outside his room, his mother's gentle coughs could still be heard.
Beyond the window, the sound of cars and birds once again filled the air.
Zeydan stood before the mirror, staring at his reflection.
(Two hours here… six hours there…) he muttered quietly, looking into his own tired eyes.
(…and I have no idea what's waiting for me next.)
But at the edge of his vision — he caught a faint blue flicker from the drawer where his sword was hidden.
And for a brief moment… he knew the journey wasn't truly over.
---
[Origin World – The Solstice Residence, 09:09 AM]
The white light that had filled the air slowly faded away.
The soft hum of the portal's energy vanished — leaving Mireya Solstice standing still in front of her house.
The morning air was cool, the leaves around the yard swaying gently in the breeze.
Some neighbors watering their plants turned wide-eyed, startled by the sudden appearance of a girl out of glowing light.
"U-uh… I can explain this, but—"
Before she could finish, a few kids down the street were already whispering excitedly.
Mireya sighed and facepalmed.
(Great. I look like a failed magician now.)
She hurried inside, her shoes thumping against the creaking wooden porch.
As soon as the door opened—
"Mireya! You're finally home!"
A deep but warm voice called out.
Her father, a stern-faced man with streaks of gray hair, stood in the living room holding a cup of coffee.
From the kitchen, her younger brother Darius — still in elementary school — ran out with boundless energy.
"Sis! Where did you go? I thought you got kidnapped by aliens!" he yelled.
Mireya snorted and flicked his forehead. "Aliens don't exist, Darius. And I wasn't kidnapped."
Her father chuckled lightly, motioning her to sit on the couch.
The sound of the ticking clock filled the room, mingling with the aroma of coffee and toasted bread.
Mireya finally sat down, still catching her breath, and began to speak.
Slowly and clearly, she explained everything:
About the world of Santara, the monster Mostole, Ardelle the horned elf, and Zeydan — her overly jumpy new companion.
Darius listened with wide, sparkling eyes like a child watching an action movie.
Meanwhile, her father remained calm, arms crossed, his gaze sharp and thoughtful.
When Mireya finished, silence fell.
Only the old ceiling fan's soft whirring broke the quiet.
Finally, her father stood up without a word and walked toward an old cabinet in his study beside the living room.
The hinges creaked as he opened it.
He pulled out a small black metal box.
Mireya tilted her head in confusion. "Dad?"
He opened the box carefully and took out something — a karambit.
A small curved knife with delicate engravings on its handle, reflecting the morning light.
He handed it to Mireya, his grip firm but meaningful.
"Take this, dear…" he said with a deep voice.
"It's a gift from your uncle."
Mireya froze, eyes widening. "Huh!? I have an uncle?"
Darius blinked. "Wait, I have an uncle too? Is he a ninja?"
Their father smiled faintly, but his eyes turned serious.
"You both do. But I had to keep it secret."
He looked long at the karambit, as if seeing old memories in the gleam of the blade.
"He was one of the strongest Agent Specialists ever in the Warden organization."
The room fell silent again.
Only the ticking clock echoed softly between them.
Mireya swallowed hard.
"An… Agent Specialist?" she said quietly, curiosity lacing her tone.
"Then… who exactly is he, Dad?"
But her father didn't answer.
He simply stared out the window, where sunlight was filtering through the curtains.
His eyes carried a mix of sorrow, pride, and fear.
Darius finally broke the silence. "Dad, if Uncle's that strong, why doesn't he teach me how to be an agent too?"
Their father chuckled faintly. "You're not ready yet, Darius."
Meanwhile, Mireya was still staring at the karambit in her hand.
The blade felt light, yet warm — as if some hidden energy pulsed through the handle into her skin.
She gripped it tighter, watching her reflection on the curved metal.
(An uncle who was once a powerful Warden agent…) she thought to herself.
And deep inside, she made a silent vow:
(Then one day… I'll find out who he really is.)