Chapter 153: How Did We Get Here

  The morning sun pierced through the gaps in the ornate, gilded blinds, painting warm strips of golden light across the plush carpets of the room. Outside the heavy balcony doors, the cheerful chirping of desert finches blended with the distant, bustling murmurs of Kah-Kamun’s citizens starting their day.

  Raito groaned, burying his face deeper into the unnaturally soft pillows.

  He was lying in one of the royal guest rooms of the Kah-Kamun palace. The bed was massive, draped in fine silks that felt almost too luxurious for his calloused skin. Slowly, painfully, he forced his heavy eyelids open, squinting against the cheerful morning glare.

  "Right... it's been a week," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

  He pushed the silk sheets aside and sat up, stretching his arms high above his head. His joints popped in a satisfying, albeit painful, symphony. He lazily dragged himself out of bed, his bare feet sinking into the thick carpet as he shuffled toward the en-suite bathroom.

  He didn't know what time it was, and honestly, at this exact moment, he simply didn't care.

  He grabbed a toothbrush, squeezing a dollop of minty paste onto the bristles, and began scrubbing. He stared blankly at his reflection in the pristine, silver-trimmed mirror. Despite his calm outward demeanor and the comfortable, safe surroundings of the palace, his mind was absolutely racing with hundreds of chaotic thoughts.

  "It's really been a week," he mumbled again, the toothbrush hanging haphazardly from the corner of his mouth, foaming slightly.

  After a quick, steaming hot morning shower that did little to wash away the exhaustion nested in his bones, he stepped out, towel-drying his hair. He tossed the towel aside and lazily flopped back down onto the edge of the massive bed.

  He could still feel it. Even after seven full days of rest, a deep, persistent ache lingered in his muscles. And worse, if he closed his eyes, he could still feel the phantom, blistering heat of the Living Mountain baking his skin, accompanied by the metallic screech of grinding ice.

  "It's been a week," he murmured for the third time, staring down at his hands.

  How did we get here? he thought, the sheer absurdity of his current life crashing over him like a tidal wave.

  Not too long ago, he was just a janitor. He was living a modest, quiet life in the bustling city of Jinlun in Ruhong. His biggest daily concerns were finding a mop bucket that didn't squeak, cleaning up the mess left behind by other dockworkers, and keeping an eye out for any opportunity to make a little bit of extra salary to afford a decent meal.

  But now? Instead of a mop, his hands were calloused from wielding a sword. He was fighting in battles that seemed larger than life, clashing against invisible robotic predators and stopping walking, volcanic time bombs.

  He had always thought he was just an orphan. A nobody without a past, raised in a small, run-down orphanage by a kind Sacred lady who had taught him how to read, write, and survive.

  But now he knew the truth. He actually had parents. He wasn't abandoned on a field like he had originally thought. Just that... the reason his parents had to give him up was literally because a mechanical being had struck down their home. A home that was apparently a 'ship' or a 'space station'—concepts that, even now, Raito struggled to fully wrap his head around. What exactly was a space station? A boat that sailed the stars?

  Either way, the reasoning was too utterly far-fetched to ever be told to a normal person. Oh yeah, my parents didn't leave me, they just put me in an escape vessel while our space home was blasted out of the sky by a mechanical being. And the fact that this supposed tragedy happened hundreds of thousands of years ago? Yeah, absolutely not. Not a single sane person in Calvenoor would ever believe him. They would throw him in an asylum.

  Raito leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he tried to mentally map out the chain of events.

  Let’s look back at the facts: A highly advanced machine named Silux was sent into a mysterious crack—a tear in the fabric of the sky itself. It came back as a corrupted, genocidal maniac. The place where Raito was born, the workplace of his original parents, was its first target. To save him, his parents sent him away, but his escape trajectory ended up sucking him straight through that exact same cosmic tear, spitting him out in current-day Calvenoor.

  Absolutely far-fetched, Raito thought, running a hand down his face.

  It sounded like a high-fantasy tale made up by a bard to entertain wide-eyed children in a tavern. Yet, terrifyingly, it was his real story.

  His modest, mundane worldview had once again been violently ripped apart. He used to think that the day he met Yukari and how she entered his world was the most impossible moment of his life. But this... this was something entirely else.

  Now he had to wake up every morning and live with the fact that he was a displaced child from a forgotten, ancient era. He had been given a power beyond human comprehension by some mysterious entity of light from beyond the sky. And a mechanical being masquerading as a god was actively hunting him down, gleefully calling him 'brother'.

  It was way too much going on for one ex-janitor.

  All he had ever wanted was a quiet, comfortable life. Maybe a small house with a little garden. But now, that dream felt so much farther away than Raito could ever hope to see.

  Raito sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet room.

  "Ragndvor," he murmured.

  It was a word that felt incredibly faint to him, a whisper from a forgotten dream, but it clung stubbornly to his recent memories. It was the name Silas had screamed in absolute, tantrum-throwing fury during their last encounter inside Tur'uga's collapsing heart chamber.

  Who was that? What kind of twisted history did Silas and that being share? Was 'Ragndvor' the name of the glowing silhouette that had spoken to Raito and Yukari in the Void, and to Tur'uga in their pasts?

  And what about Silas itself? Was Silas truly just 'Silux', the wayward exploration machine Dr. Iskandar created, or was there even more lurking behind the scenes? What was the massive black gem that Silas had violently ripped from Tur'uga’s chest? Did it have something to do with the Void energy that Raito now commanded?

  His mind was a hurricane of unanswered questions. The more he questioned, the more mysteries seemed to pop up like weeds.

  Nothing made sense. If Silas was already a god—having successfully created the new iteration of humanity, the Sacreds, and the all-powerful Lords to rule them—what more did it want? It had absolute control over the continent. What could it possibly be planning that required assassinating the entire Zarateph region with a turtle-bomb?

  Raito simply could not grasp the machine's overarching motive.

  GURRRRGLLE.

  The intense train of existential dread was abruptly, violently derailed by a sound originating from his own midsection. Raito blinked, looking down at his stomach.

  "Well," Raito sighed, a wry smile finally breaking through his brooding. "Thinking this much is making me hungry."

  THUD. THUD. THUD.

  A series of heavy, rapid knocks suddenly rattled the thick mahogany door of his guest room, the sheer force of them threatening to knock the gold-leaf hinges loose.

  "Hey! Raito! Are you awake in there?!"

  The voice booming from the other side of the door was unmistakably Bob’s, vibrating with its usual, infectious cheerfulness.

  "I am, Bob! What's up?" Raito called back, tossing his towel onto a velvet chair and grabbing a fresh linen shirt from the wardrobe.

  Hearing that Raito was up, the heavy door swung open. Bob filled the entire doorframe, his massive, jovial frame draped in vibrant, multi-layered silk robes that somehow managed to clash wonderfully with the palace's elegant, subdued decor.

  "Just checking in on our sleepy boy!" Bob said, beaming broadly. "You have been waking up, eating a few scraps, and going straight back to sleep for the entire week. I was starting to think you were going to pass out for good this time! How is your body holding up, kid?"

  Raito rolled his shoulders, wincing slightly as a dull, lingering throb flared in his back.

  "Muscle aches here and there. A massive storm of confusing questions in my mind," Raito listed off on his fingers. "Oh, and also... very, very hungry."

  He flashed a tired but genuine smile. "But other than that... still alive."

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  "Good! That is what I like to hear!" Bob let out a booming, belly-deep laugh. "Hohoho! Because a breakfast feast fit for a king is currently waiting in the dining hall, and you definitely don't want to miss it!"

  "Great. I am absolutely starving," Raito said, aggressively rubbing his stomach in anticipation. Just the mention of a feast made his mouth water, his mind instantly abandoning the complex mysteries of the unknown for the immediate allure of roasted meats and fresh bread.

  As Raito finished buttoning his shirt, Bob stepped a few paces into the room, his eyes scanning the spacious, sunlit suite. He looked behind the plush sofas and toward the balcony.

  "By the way... where is she?" Bob asked, his brow furrowing in a rare moment of puzzlement. "It's quite rare that she is not hovering around you or at least in the same room making sure you're breathing."

  "Now that you mention it..." Raito paused, turning around to scan the room with Bob.

  The guest suite was entirely empty. The other side of the massive bed was pristine, and her usual traveling cloak wasn't draped over any of the chairs. He realized he hadn't heard the familiar, angry scolding from someone specific.

  Where is she?

  Then, realization dawned on him, and Raito simply shrugged, a soft, understanding smile touching his lips.

  "Well, she should be fine," Raito said, walking toward the door. "She is probably just with that person anyway."

  "That person?" Bob repeated, scratching his bearded chin. He paused for a second before his eyes lit up in sudden realization. "Oh! Ah, that person."

  "Yeah. The one we brought back," Raito nodded, stepping out into the cool, marble-floored corridor. "They have decades' worth of catching up to do. It's best we let them have their time."

  "Then that makes perfect sense," Bob commented, his jovial tone softening with a touch of profound respect. "They definitely need it. It’s a miracle born from a tragedy, but a miracle nonetheless."

  Raito nodded in agreement, closing the heavy wooden door behind him. He took a deep breath, catching a faint, savory aroma drifting down the palace halls.

  "Now... breakfast," Raito declared, his stomach letting out another loud, embarrassing growl. "Lead the way, Bob."

  "Alright, kid! Follow me!" Bob clapped Raito heavily on the shoulder, nearly knocking the wind out of him, before marching down the hall. "Make sure you eat a lot! You need to pack some meat back onto those bones! Hohoho!"

  With that cheerful exchange, the two of them strode down the opulent corridors, heading straight for the dining hall.

  Meanwhile, far away from the bustling palace kitchens, a gentle, warm breeze swept across a vibrant flower field on the tranquil outskirts of Kah-Kamun. The sweet scent of desert lilies and blooming cacti filled the air, a stark, beautiful contrast to the harsh realities of the world.

  Three figures were lounging under the expansive shade of a massive, ancient Baobab tree.

  One sat in a sturdy, wooden wheelchair, a thick woolen blanket draped over his lap. The other two were seated cross-legged on the soft, fragrant grass right next to him.

  "Forty years, huh..."

  Harrison Aster let out a long, slow exhale. His voice was still raspy, carrying the gravel of a man who hadn't used his vocal cords in decades, but it held a warmth that was undeniably human.

  While his frame was still incredibly thin—almost painfully bony beneath his fresh linen shirt—his complexion was drastically better than when Zhu had hauled him out of the Living Mountain. The terrifying, deathly pallor had faded, replaced by the faint, returning tan of an adventurer. His sunken cheeks had filled out just a fraction, and his eyes, though framed by deep exhaustion, shone with their natural, vibrant brown.

  "I can't believe it," Harrison murmured, his gaze fixed on the distant western horizon. Even from here, they could see the scars left upon the land—the massive, flattened trench that marked the violent, desperate path of the Living Mountain's final slide.

  "That is how long you have been gone," Zhu Lihua said. She was resting her back against the thick trunk of the Baobab. She looked in the exact same direction as Harrison, her sharp eyes tracing the destruction. "We thought you were dead, Harrison. We truly did."

  "That is because I was," Harrison replied, a sad, self-deprecating smile touching his lips. "I did die. My body failed me in that dark cave. But that turtle... Tur'uga... he brought me back."

  Zhu turned her head, looking at him with a mixture of awe and residual disbelief. "How did that beast even do that? It sounded entirely too much like a fairy tale, a miracle too grand to be true. And yet... here you are, breathing my air."

  "It was a miracle," Harrison agreed, looking down at his own trembling, calloused hands. "But a miracle that was somehow possible through the Void. I was dead, Zhu. My heart stopped. However... my soul did not leave."

  He leaned back in the wheelchair, closing his eyes as he recalled the centuries of limbo. "I was more like... asleep. Like living in a deep, endless dream. I completely lost my sense of control over my own body. But occasionally, I could feel my limbs moving. I guess the bridge, the connection Tur'uga created the exact moment I died, acted as an anchor. It saved my soul from passing into the afterlife, locking it firmly in place within the dark."

  Harrison opened his eyes, staring up through the green canopy of the leaves. "Originally, I couldn't see anything. I was just sleeping in a suffocating darkness. But eventually... I began to see what Tur'uga saw, using my own body as his eyes. Though my control was still utterly nonexistent."

  Harrison slowly turned his head, his gaze landing softly on the figure sitting quietly in the grass beside his chair.

  "I saw that boy, Raito, struggling desperately in the desert, losing his will to live. And then... I saw you," Harrison said turning his head towards Yukari, his voice cracking with sudden, overwhelming emotion. "I was screaming inside. I was screaming for Tur'uga to hear me, thrashing in the dark, wishing, begging that I could take over, just to talk to you. Just once."

  Yukari sat perfectly still, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She didn't say a word. Her silver eyes were fixed stubbornly on a patch of clover near her boots.

  "Lin?" Zhu asked, her voice tinged with gentle concern. She leaned forward. "Why are you so quiet? Harrison is here. Your father is back. Aren't there a mountain of things you want to talk to him about?"

  Yukari actively avoided Zhu's gaze.

  Just like Zhu had said, she possessed a literal mountain of questions. But she didn't know where to start. She felt paralyzed. she is a forty-nine-year-old half-sacred woman—a seasoned, hardened warrior who had survived the worst of the world, someone who has been through the thick and thin, and already have a husband. But sitting here next to him, the man who had been frozen in time, she felt utterly exposed. To him, he might only see the tiny, seven-year-old child he had left behind. The disconnect was suffocating.

  "I don't need you to speak," Harrison said softly, breaking the tense silence. "Not if you don't want to."

  He looked at her, his eyes welling with deep, somber regrets.

  "I know, from your perspective, I just... left," Harrison continued, his voice heavy with self-loathing. "I left Lei to die, and I never came back. I was shocked myself when I woke up. I was given a second chance at life, simply because an innocent, lonely turtle enjoyed hearing my tall tales. But Lei... she is still gone."

  Harrison gripped the wooden armrests of his chair, his knuckles turning white.

  "That turtle gave me his remaining life," Harrison confessed, a single tear slipping down his weathered cheek. "A life force so massive, so ancient, that it might be a hundred times—maybe a thousand times—greater than any normal human life. That is how he woke me up. How he rebuilt my broken organs and brought me back from the absolute brink."

  He let out a bitter, hollow laugh. "But for what? For a failure. A failure who foolishly left his sick wife and young child for an impossible, desperate quest. I know that you are absolutely angry at me, Lin. And I don't blame you for it for a single second. You can berate me. You can scream at me. You have every right."

  Suddenly, the rustle of fabric broke the heavy air.

  Yukari leapt up from the grass. Before Harrison could even brace himself, she threw her arms around his neck, burying her face deep into his chest.

  "I'm not..." she mumbled into his linen shirt, her voice muffled and trembling. She pouted, the hardened exterior of the forty-nine-year-old warrior instantly melting away, leaving only the heartbroken child.

  "I'm not angry at you," she sobbed, her voice restrained by years of forced discipline, yet cracking under the emotional weight. "But I'm also... puzzled. I don't know what to say. I'm just lost."

  Her grip tightened around him, her knuckles turning white. "It's been so long, Papa. It was so hard growing up alone. Being forced to do things I am not suited for. Trying to be strong. There have been so many things that happened. Things that happened without you here to see them. You missed so much. Mama's funeral... it hurts so much."

  Harrison didn't say anything. He couldn't. What she said was the absolute, undeniable truth. He might have died trying to save them, but the harsh reality was that he did leave them. All he could do was raise his trembling, weak arms and wrap them tightly around his daughter, burying his face in her silver hair as he wept freely.

  "I'm sorry," Harrison choked out, his tears soaking into her shoulder. "I'm not going to make any excuses. I left to find a cure for Lei's condition. But... I failed. I died. Lei died. And we left you all alone in this cruel world."

  He looked up through blurry eyes, meeting Zhu's gaze. "And I burdened you with a responsibility you were not familiar with, Zhu. I forced you to be a mother when you were meant to be a general. For that... I am so, so sorry."

  Zhu Lihua closed her eyes, a rare, soft smile touching her lips as she leaned back against the tree, letting the apology wash over her.

  "Then take me," Yukari sniffled, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye.

  "Hmmm?" Harrison blinked, thoroughly puzzled, wiping a tear from his eye.

  "Don't just say you are sorry," Yukari demanded, her silver eyes shining with a fierce, uncompromising light. She wiped her own tears with the back of her sleeve. "Take me. Make up for all the lost time. Once you are fully recovered, once you can walk again... take me on one of your adventures. No more bedtime tales. Actual daughter and father adventure time. Out there in the world. Promise me."

  Harrison stared at her, overwhelmed by the sheer, forgiving grace of his daughter. A warm, brilliant smile broke across his face.

  "I promise," Harrison swore, his voice steady and true. "Just the two of us. Doing random, crazy adventures across the continent."

  "Not two," Yukari immediately rejected, shaking her head.

  "Not two?" Harrison asked, scratching the back of his head in confusion. "Who else?"

  "Three," Yukari declared, crossing her arms with a stubborn, adorable pout. "You, me, and Raito."

  For a split second, there was silence. Then, Harrison burst into loud, booming laughter, the sound startling the birds in the Baobab tree and completely shattering the heavy, sorrowful atmosphere of the reunion.

  "Ah, right! Raito! That boy!" Harrison laughed, clutching his stomach. "I completely forgot! You got married, huh, Lin?! My little girl, all grown up, is a wife!"

  "More like a runaway bride," Zhu commented dryly from the grass, shaking her head with a smirk. "She literally challenged the whole political structure to get married to that boy. I am still holding a bit of grudge because of that."

  "Yes I did!” Yukari puiffed out her chest. “I love him, so nothing will stop me! be it a city or a region. Somehow we were somewhat succesful, we got married, after some various events that I will not get into. So he has to come with us! I will force him to carry our bags even if he doesn't want to!"

  "Hahahaha!" Harrison laughed even harder, wiping fresh tears of mirth from his eyes. He looked at Yukari, his expression filled with overwhelming fondness. "You are definitely Lei's child. My god, the resemblance is uncanny."

  Yukari blinked, her pout faltering. "Mama? Why do you and Mother keep saying that about Mama Lei?"

  Harrison slowly stopped laughing, a nostalgic, warm light filling his brown eyes. He looked over at Zhu Lihua.

  Zhu sighed dramatically, pushing herself up from the grass. "It is your job to tell her, Harrison. I've covered enough of your shifts."

  "Right," Harrison smiled, adjusting his position in the wooden wheelchair. He looked back at his daughter, his eyes shining with decades of locked-away memories.

  "I guess it's about time you hear the real story," Harrison began, his voice taking on the captivating cadence of the world's greatest storyteller. "About how I—no, how we two—met your mother. One of the most rambunctious, stubborn, and brilliant people we ever knew. Or, as she was known to us back then in Jinlun..."

  Harrison grinned. "...The Tomboy Lei."