The next day, Aeris went to visit the father of this body.
Glenn had been abandoned in a neglected nursing home—placed there by his own children and forgotten soon after.
The place barely met minimum standards. Supplies were limited, hygiene was an afterthought, and the overwhelmed staff rarely bothered to check on residents. Many elderly lay unattended for days, left to suffer in silence.
Glenn lay on a narrow, rusted metal bed. The room reeked—an awful mix of excrement and stale air.
His bedding was stained, the fabric stiff from neglect. There was even a dark, suspicious patch on the mattress—one no one had bothered to clean.
For a moment, Aeris almost suspected he had walked into the wrong room. The tall, authoritative man he remembered was nowhere to be seen.
In his place lay a frail figure: cheeks hollowed, scattered strands of grey hair clinging weakly to his scalp, and sunken eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. He was painfully thin—almost skeletal—as if something had slowly drained the very life from him.
Sensing another presence, Glenn turned his head—slowly, painfully—like a rusted machine forcing itself to move. His expression shifted faintly when he recognized the visitor.
"You… are… here." His voice was coarse and shaky, as if he hadn't spoken in months.
"Hm." Aeris stood at the doorway, his face stiff, unable to maintain his usual calm demeanor. The stench in the room was overwhelming; even from the threshold, breathing felt like punishment.
Unable to take it anymore, he lifted his sleeve to cover his nose and mouth. Yet he still defiantly stood his ground, determined to finish what he came for.
"You favored them your whole life…" he began, but stopped abruptly when he noticed a yellow stain on the bedsheet.
Whatever composure he had left shattered instantly. A violent urge to retch climbed up his throat.
"Shit—!" His limits snapped. Revenge, dramatic confrontation, emotional closure—everything vanished. Aeris bolted from the room like a victim fleeing from a serial killer.
Once outside, he gulped down the fresh air as though it were the most precious thing in the world. He had never realized air could feel so refreshing.
No matter what, he was never stepping back into that room again. Revenge and purpose no longer mattered.
If he was being honest, that nursing home hadn't just disgusted him—it had traumatized him.
After that, Aeris had no intention of going to the mental institution to provoke Mira. Besides, what could he possibly say to someone in such a state?
Mira was rarely in her right mind. On the days she regained consciousness, she caused all sorts of trouble—mostly asking about her son, her only remaining relative, and about him—the person she hated most.
But no one knew where Adan had disappeared. He was last seen running away from the orphanage into an alley, never to be seen again.
With all his enemies gone, Aeris never married. He spent his life as a celibate, wandering among the flowers, experiencing everything he had missed in his previous life.
And just when he thought it was all over, he awoke once more beneath unfamiliar stars.
And so it would happen, again and again.