Mom's hands shout out instinctively, pulling me in for an embrace even tighter than that of Katarina's. What's up with people trying to squeeze me to death?
"Oh, sweetie, you're okay! Careful—careful!"
Thank the Princeps, my mother wasn't as clingy as Kat tends to be sometimes. In other words, I didn't have to push Mom away gently; she just let go after a few seconds of hugging me and wailing with joy that her son was well and alive. Okay, maybe not well, but alive nonetheless.
When she finally pulled back, hands still cupping my shoulders like she expected me to crumble into dust any second. Her eyes shimmered with leftover tears, and she let out one last shaky breath before trying to compose herself.
Mother always did that: cry first, breathe second, be royalty third. It was her weird little order of priorities, no matter the situation.
Once she stepped back, I got a proper look at her.
Lady Nemi Von Veyra Knight. She'd married into the family, which was why she didn't share the De Astra surname like the rest of us. Nonetheless, the Von Veyras were a respected noble house in their own right—but even so, she took Dad's name with a kind of pride that made the entire capital talk for weeks.
She was essentially what Sis would look like if she were older—the same wild and messy ginger hair that probably had a mind of its own, and emerald green eyes that sparkled every hour of every day with a mischievous glint, except this time they were framed by dark circles, probably from her lack of sleep.
However, this time, her hair was actually... tamed? Don't get me wrong, it wasn't perfect, but it was too well done for any normal occasion. And that only made the sense of dread I felt increase, climbing up my spine as if dread were a climber hiking the tallest mountain.
I didn't like it one bit.
She and Auntie Illyana wore matching attire of a silver tunic, belted neatly at the waist, the velvet fabrics shining, only accentuated by the room's lighting and golden rays seeping through the four arched windows on either side of the room. It was subtle, but the royal stitching of thin black lines around the seams and hem, even around the collar—it only made Mom look more regal, which was kind of shocking; however, nobody pulled it off better than Auntie: taller, more menacing, sharper features, and a fiery-cool personality to match. Not to mention the extra additions of chain cuffings and longer leather boots, only made her appear more royal than any king or queen ever could.
That was Queen Illyana for you. Cool, calm, and collected, and leaned against her desk with crossed arms as she studied me with eyes deep in thought about something I couldn't possibly grasp.
"Let me look at your face," Mother murmured, lifting my chin the same way she did when I was a kid coming home bruised from sparring with Iliam and Lord Fenrir.
I let her, mostly because my legs were still questioning whether they wanted to hold me upright.
After a long, relieved exhale, she flashed a soft, warm smile reserved only for Kat and me.
"You're really here."
I forced a grin, cocky and exhausted.
"Of course I'm here. Takes more than a hole through my torso to keep me down."
After all, I'm Sora Knight.
"Don't joke like that!"
My gaze then shifted past Ariana whom I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact I dreamt about her mere moments before this, then to whom I'm assuming to be her father who was surprisngly giving off cool uncle vibes: slouched with his arm draped behind his daughter, a relaxed smile, cropped dark hair with a matching beard of the same length and eyes the color of amethyst crystals, and navy garments overlapping more navy garments with a bunch of golden chains everywhere—I honestly couldn't describe what he wore if I tried, it was beyond the fancy I'm used to which says a lot.
"Lord Aredhel?"
He raised a brow and widened his smirk before pushing himself off the couch, leather creaking beneath him and giving me a corteuous bow—much more respectful than that son of a bitch Iliam.
"I thought Demons liked to stay within their own continent. What brings you all the way over here?" I chuckled while questioning
Before Mother or Auntie could answer, the King's voice cut through smoothly and controlled.
"Indeed, Sir Sora. We are solitary beings. We prefer to avoid interference with other races. And yet… some situations require extraordinary measures."
"Extraordinary?"
"The Servants of Chaos are back," Auntie interjected.
Pardon?
I tilted my head slightly to the side, shot him a sardonic-polite smile, and clasped my hands together.
"Please elaborate, Your Majesty. Last I checked, the Witch Of End sealed herself along with the ten Servants of Chaos, like I don't know, six hundred years ago? What you're saying is impossible."
"You are correct."
Auntie's posture sharpened, Mother finally sat down, and I... well, I was confused as hell to say the least.
"The Witch of End sealed herself as well as all ten Servants of Chaos six centuries ago. Their slumber should have been eternal."
His tone remained irritably steady.
"Should have," I muttered with absolutely wavering eye contact. He has to be joking, right? Each one of these guys alone has the power to level planets. This has to be some kind of sick joke... right?
"Precisely."
He clasped his hands behind his back, then took a step closer after a deep breath.
"One has awakened."
...Great.
Before I could ask anything else, the Demon King raised his right hand and muttered, "apparent." Summoning a floating sphere pulsing with violet sigils. It buzzed in the air with a soft hum; the device projected an image across the room.
An image of a man who wore nothing but criminally baggy gray pants and some sandals. Weird tattoos of lines etched across pale skin on a sculpted and compact build. Built purely for speed and power. Eyes that glimmered all the colors of the rainbow and then some. As if someone took light itself, snapped it in half, then shoved the remains into his irises. Ethereal and shifting. Chaotic. And cropped golden hair, spikier than the jagged mountain peak he stood on, overlooking an abandoned village. Storm clouds swirled unnaturally around him, flickering with lightning, sudden gusts, and temperature swings. His presence warped the very world we inhabited.
And he was completely still.
"It's been roughly a month since he was first sighted. I believe he goes by the name Thunder."
"..."
"At first, he was seated, unmoving, not even a flinch."
"..."
"Two days ago, however, he finally stood and opened his eyes, standing at the edge of the mountain with small reactions and sudden movements."
I swallowed hard. Two days ago, someone meant to kill me...
Mother began to shift uncomfortably, fingernails digging into the armrest. She had to be thinking the same thing.
"He hasn't killed anyone directly," the King said.
"But the natural world reacts to him. Minor disasters. Violent temperature swings. Shifts in humidity and pressure. The land itself becomes unstable near him."
"So he's… what? Just standing there, menacingly, and that alone has caused the entire demon continent to take losses because the environment is having a meltdown around him?"
"Precisely."
"And the soldiers, I assume you sent?" I asked.
"None have returned."
The projection flickered as Thunder blinked for the first time, looking towards us as if he sensed we were watching.
A cold shiver crawled down my spine, causing the hairs on my body to stand up.
"Evanescet," King Aredhel muttered, and just like that, the projection vanished, and he closed his palm before returning to his seat beside Ariana, who, for some reason, hadn't reacted at all, ever since I walked in here.
She's done nothing but sip on her cup of coffee while judging me with those deadpan eyes.
What did I ever do to you? Is it the bandages? It's the bandages.
Hold up.
I'M SHIRTLESS!