The morning sun bathed the dormitory rooftops in warm gold.
Soft light slipped through the curtains and brushed across Yamato's face.
His eyes slowly opened.
For a moment, he simply stared at the ceiling before stretching across the bed and rolling onto his back.
A long yawn escaped him.
He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and stretched his arms wide.
"Another day..."
A smile slowly formed.
"But a better one."
His gaze drifted toward the window.
"I get to go home."
After washing up, he changed clothes. They weren't his usual school uniform, but they carried the same simple style he preferred.
A small bag rested on his shoulder as he stepped into the hallway.
The dorm was unusually quiet.
His footsteps echoed softly against the wooden floor as he counted doors.
One.
Two.
He stopped.
Knock. Knock.
The door opened slightly.
Lumei peeked through the gap.
"Oh. You're here."
His voice sounded calm, but his expression looked oddly restrained, as though he was trying very hard not to react to something.
Yamato grinned and gently pushed his way inside.
"I guess you managed to keep your mouth shut?"
He dropped into the room's old wooden chair.
CREAK.
The chair protested loudly beneath him. Lumei chuckled.
"I did. I promised I wouldn't bring up anything besides the mission."
A pause.
"So I can't just go around telling everyone about Recovery Rank Yamato."
Yamato leaned back.
"Alright then."
He folded his arms.
"Mission talk it is."
Silence lingered briefly, then his eyes narrowed.
"So..."
He looked directly at Lumei.
"What did you notice about Ichiha?"
Lumei blinked. His eyebrows rose immediately.
"Notice what?"
Yamato simply nodded.
Lumei scratched the back of his head.
"Honestly? Nothing."
He shrugged.
"Not until you mentioned something."
A pause.
"And even then, I didn't think too much about it."
His eyes drifted downward.
"I was more focused on Master Ozaki."
"On what his actions might teach me."
Yamato stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing.
"Hahaha!"
He slapped his knee.
"And you want to uncover the secrets of the world?"
He pointed at Lumei.
"Now who's the dumb one?"
Lumei immediately broke into laughter.
"Maybe me."
He wiped at his eye.
"But I'm still smarter than you."
Their laughter filled the room.
For a few moments, there were no missions, no gods, no monsters.
Just two friends laughing together.
Eventually, Yamato's smile faded.
He leaned forward.
"Hey..."
He hesitated.
"When I faced Rujer..."
His eyes darkened slightly.
"Master Ozaki drove his fist through my torso from behind."
Lumei's expression stiffened.
Yamato lowered his gaze.
"And in that moment..."
His fingers tightened.
"I felt a kind of rage."
A pause.
"A very distinguished kind of rage."
Lumei's eyes widened, he immediately pointed at him.
"Yes!"
"That's exactly it!"
He leaned forward.
"I felt rage too."
His excitement slowly faded into thought.
"But distinguished..."
He shook his head.
"I don't know if I'd call it that."
He looked toward the window.
"His aura was never like that before."
The memory clearly unsettled him.
"It felt like his power was mixed with counterfeit emotions."
His brows furrowed.
"Like he was furious..."
"...but still completely in control."
Lumei exhaled.
"He stayed that way until Kaku died."
Yamato slowly nodded.
"Yeah."
Silence followed.
Then another thought surfaced.
"When we heard that voice..."
His throat tightened slightly.
"I could barely move."
The memory of that overwhelming presence crawled across his skin.
"Just the blurred presence of The Entity's aura shook me."
Then realization struck him. His eyes widened.
"Wait."
He looked at Lumei.
"Was that how all of you felt when I chopped off Ichiha's arm?"
Without thinking, Lumei answered immediately.
"Yes."
The word escaped before he could stop it. The room fell silent.
Then Yamato grinned.
"Ha!"
He pointed at him.
"Told you I'd get you to say something."
Lumei groaned and covered his face.
"I walked right into that one."
Yamato laughed.
But the smile didn't last.
His gaze slowly drifted away, his thoughts wandered elsewhere.
Far away.
To a small house, to a woman waiting at home.
If The Entity ever came after Mom...
His chest tightened.
What would I do? Could I stop it? Could I protect her?
His jaw clenched.
No. I need more power. I need to become a Vessel.
Any God will do.
Lumei noticed the change immediately. He snapped his fingers.
CLICK. No response.
Again.
CLICK. Nothing.
A third time.
CLICK. Still nothing.
"Yamato."
The boy remained frozen, lost inside his own thoughts.
I don't care how weak the God is. I'll make up the difference myself.
I'll become strong enough for both of us.
"Yamato!"
He finally blinked. The room returned.
Lumei's brows were knitted together.
"What is going on?"
"You were gone for nearly a minute."
Yamato exhaled slowly. His shoulders sagged, he looked toward the open window.
"Lumei."
"Yeah?"
"By any chance..."
He scratched his cheek.
"Do you know of any God who might need a Vessel?"
A weak smile appeared.
"One that can tolerate my attitude?"
The moment the question left his mouth...
Something shifted. Not in the room, not in the air.
Inside Lumei.
The blood eye awakened during the battle stirred.
Hèmiñgam. The God of Shadows.
Since that day, control was no longer absolute.
Certain thoughts, ertain emotions, certain questions. They acted like triggers.
Lumei's posture remained unchanged.
No aura erupted, no pressure filled the room, no darkness spread.
Only his voice changed.
It deepened. Ancient. Calm.
"There is a God."
Yamato froze.
"A troublesome one."
The voice continued.
"He does not seek conflict."
A pause.
"But when conflict reaches his doorstep..."
Silence.
"It disappears."
The room felt strangely still.
"He is a God of legend."
"Even I have never seen him closely."
The voice grew quieter.
"I only felt his aura near the end of the First War."
A pause.
"He is your guy."
Yamato stared.
For a moment, he simply nodded.
The answer felt natural, simple, clear.
He stood up.
"Thanks, Lumei."
He picked up his bag.
"It was good talking with you."
A smile spread across his face.
"But I'm heading to see my mom."
Lumei blinked.
The strange influence had already faded, control returned.
Yet one thing bothered him.
Yamato had not shaken, not even once.
It was as if he had heard the message exactly as intended.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Lumei smiled.
"That's nice."
"Tell her I said hello."
"I will."
Yamato waved as he walked toward the door.
"See you later, smart guy."
Lumei grinned.
"Later, dumb guy."
Yamato returned to his room, grabbed his belongings, and left the dormitory.
His journey home had begun.
As he passed the girls' dormitory, his steps slowed.
Sora.
He changed direction and entered the building.
A few moments later, he stood before her door.
Knock. Knock.
Nothing, he waited.
Knock. Knock.
Still nothing.
Yamato leaned closer.
"Hm."
A small smile appeared.
"She must've left already."
Shrugging, he turned and headed toward the town gates.
The wind brushed through the trees, birds drifted across the sky.
And for the first time in a long while, Yamato felt light.
The journey home took hours.
He crossed streams and rivers, walked through valleys and forests, and passed villages where people waved and greeted him.
Most recognized him.
Across the continent, Yamato had become something close to a hero.
A young adventurer, a rising warrior, a familiar face from countless missions.
Yet none of that mattered now.
Home was ahead.
Eventually, the massive wooden gates came into view.
Not towering.
Not imposing.
Simply large enough for even an eight-foot giant to walk through comfortably.
Above them hung an old weathered sign.
"Welcome to Quei Village. A home for every crop."
QUEI Village.
The agricultural heart of the Rokye Continent.
Vast rivers and fertile land stretched across nearly forty-five thousand square miles, feeding endless fields, farms and forest.
The village ranked second in crop production on Earth and first throughout Rokye.
Yamato stopped.
A gentle breeze swept past him, the air smelled different here.
Fresh soil.
Growing crops.
Home.
The village looked cleaner than he remembered.
Most residents were out working their fields, leaving the streets quiet.
He walked onward.
Past grazing lands, past cattle lazily chewing grass, past taverns, trading houses, and vast stretches of farmland.
Hours later, his street finally appeared.
Familiar roads, familiar corners, fragments of childhood memories.
Not all of them pleasant.
Heads turned as he passed.
Nobody smiled.
Nobody waved.
One man spat onto the ground, a woman immediately shut her window.
Children hurried away.
Yamato raised a hand toward an elderly woman.
She turned her face elsewhere.
His hand slowly lowered.
Across the continent, people called him a hero.
Here...
He was a symbol of misfortune.
"They still don't answer simple greetings."
The words barely left his lips, he continued walking.
Faster now.
Until he reached the final house near the forest.
Small. Old. Patched roof. Flower pots near the entrance.
Nothing impressive.
Nothing special.
But it was home.
Because of the villagers' dislike for him and his mother, they had long ago been pushed to the edge of town.
The last house, the closest to the forest.
Yamato stepped onto the porch, opened the door and entered.
The living room greeted him with familiar simplicity.
A worn wooden table stood at the center. Handmade chairs surrounded it. An oil lamp rested on a nearby shelf.
Crocheted cloth covered parts of the furniture.
Everything looked old. Everything looked cared for.
"Mummy."
His voice softened.
"I'm back."
A towel hit the floor.
The next second...
"YAMATO!"
His mother burst from the kitchen, tears already filled her eyes.
Her hair bounced wildly as she ran.
WHUMP.
She crashed into him and wrapped both arms around him.
Yamato held her tightly, his face buried itself into her shoulder.
A weight he hadn't noticed carrying suddenly vanished.
"Oh, Mom..."
His voice cracked.
"It's been a while."
Esther squeezed him tighter.
"My baby boy..."
She stepped back just enough to inspect him.
Then frowned.
"You're thinner."
Her eyes immediately watered again, then she smiled.
A bright, familiar smile.
"Are you hungry?"
She grabbed his arm.
"You must be hungry."
"Anything you want, I'll make it."
A tear slipped down Yamato's cheek, yet he couldn't stop smiling.
"Anything is fine."
He laughed softly.
"Don't start cooking because of me."
"I'll eat whatever you're already making."
Esther nodded.
"Alright."
"Then go take a bath and rest."
Yamato headed deeper into the house.
"Use my room!"
He stopped.
"What?"
"Why your room?"
Her laughter echoed from the kitchen.
"The roof over yours is damaged."
"I'm getting it repaired."
Yamato chuckled.
"I'll fix it myself."
"I'm staying for a week anyway."
"Don't worry."
He continued toward the washroom, warm water, the smell of food.
His mother's voice humming from the kitchen.
Everything felt right.
For the first time in weeks, the tension inside him disappeared completely.
The battles, the gods, the fear, the expectations. All of it faded.
Leaving only one thing behind.
A young man standing inside the home he loved most and the quiet promise that had guided him his entire life.
To protect his mother's smile.