Slowly, one by one, everyone began to wake from their dreams. The haze of confusion lifted, and reality gently settled back in.
Violet stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She felt warmth beneath her head—her mother's lap. Her mother sat there, tears streaming down her face, her sobs quiet but deep.
"Mom?" Violet whispered, blinking as she sat up. "What happened? Why are you crying?"
Her mother looked at her, eyes red and puffy, and cupped Violet's face with trembling hands. "I'm sorry," she choked out, her voice cracking with regret. "I'm sorry for everything I've done, Violet. It's all my fault."
Violet frowned, confusion clouding her mind. "What do you mean?" she asked softly. Nothing made sense. She looked around and then raised her head to see someone standing nearby—her father.
Her heart skipped a beat. "Papa…?"
Her mother flinched at the word, fresh tears falling. "It's my fault, Violet. Everything. I… I'm the one who broke our loyal bond. I lost it all…"
From a distance, her father's deep voice called out, steady and firm: "Kaseno…"
Violet's mother froze, every hair on her body standing on end. Her breath hitched as she slowly turned to face the voice. Standing there, his presence like an anchor of calm amidst the chaos, was her husband—Violet's father.
For a split second, disbelief crossed her face. Then, as if something shattered inside her, she scrambled to her feet and ran toward him.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry!" she sobbed as she threw her arms around him, holding him as though he might disappear. "I don't want comforts or riches anymore. I don't want anything—just you. Please forgive me… please!"
Violet sat frozen, tears welling up in her eyes as she watched them. A quiet happiness crept into her heart, seeing her parents together again—a sight she thought she'd never see.
But as the moment stretched on, a thought tugged at her. Aryan.
Her head whipped around as she scanned the area, her pulse quickening. Aryan was nowhere to be seen. "Aryan?" she called softly, then louder. "Aryan!"
There was no response. Only the soft sound of the wind and the quiet rustling of the shipwrecked surroundings.
A hollow feeling settled in her chest as she stood up, wiping her eyes. Where could he have gone?
At the same time, somewhere far away, in a sleek and modern office, the hum of machines filled the quiet space. A single desk stood at the center, cluttered with documents, cables, and a strange, glowing device.
Mai leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, his sharp eyes fixed on the radiator before him. It blinked with an intense, erratic glow—brighter than ever before. His lips curled into a sly smile, but there was a flicker of irritation in his gaze.
"Ahh…" he sighed dramatically, tapping his fingers against the desk. "So, he's out there enjoying himself… without me."
The light from the radiator pulsed brighter, as though mocking his words. Mai's expression darkened, his voice dropping to a low, challenging whisper.
"I'm waiting for you, Mr. Guardian," he said, his eyes narrowing with a mix of anticipation and malice. "Come and face me."
The next day, early morning.
The sun rose slowly, casting golden light over the coastline. The wreckage of the cruise ship sprawled across the shoreline like the remains of a shattered memory. Survivors stood in clusters, dazed and confused, unable to explain what had unfolded the night before. To them, it was a night of chaos, an accident that no one could piece together—except for Khusi and Aryan.
Violet wandered among the crowd, her eyes scanning every face, every corner, desperately searching for Aryan. Her heart sank deeper with every moment, the realization settling in—he was gone. She stood still, her eyes filled with tears, torn between joy at seeing her parents reunited and the heavy sadness of Aryan's absence.
At 7 a.m., the quiet of Khusi's house broke with the sound of footsteps—heavy, weary, and slow. The door creaked open, and Khusi and Aryan stepped inside, both bruised, scraped, and utterly exhausted.
Hearing the noise, Khusi's mother rushed out of the kitchen. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight of her children—beaten up, clothes torn, faces pale. "What happened to you two?" she gasped, her voice shaking.
Khusi leaned against the wall, his legs barely holding him up. "We're fine, Mama. It's… a long story," he murmured, his voice heavy with fatigue.
Aryan, silent as always, slumped onto the sofa, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. He was out like a light, his body sinking into the cushions as though the weight of the world had been lifted—at least for now.
Their mother rushed toward Aryan, her heart wrenching at the sight of him. She knelt beside the sofa and carefully cradled his face in her hands, her tears spilling over. Her lips trembled as she kissed his forehead, her voice soft and filled with pride.
"My brave boy," she whispered, her tears mingling with her smile.
She reached for Khusi, pulling him into a hug, holding both her children close. "You've done well… so well until now," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "It doesn't take much longer. You will be freed sooner."
Khusi's mother carefully tended to Aryan's wounds, her hands gentle as she cleaned and bandaged each scrape. Aryan's breathing was soft and steady as he slept through the process, the exhaustion finally loosening its grip.
By the time Aryan woke up, the sunlight filtering through the window was warm and bright. He blinked a few times, taking in his surroundings. The house was quiet, peaceful. Sitting up slowly, he looked around and saw Khusi sitting across the room, stretching his arms—fully recovered, the bruises and fatigue gone.
Aryan frowned slightly, his curiosity breaking through the fog of sleep. "What… what was that?" he asked, steady. "What happened to you back there, Khusi? You became… something else."
Khusi looked at Aryan, his face calm but unreadable. For a moment, there was silence between them. Then Khusi smiled faintly, his tone reassuring. "Everything will be fine, Aryan. Just take enough rest for now." He patted Aryan's shoulder gently. "You'll get to know everything… when it's time."
Aryan looked at Khusi for a moment longer, the answers he wanted still out of reach. But there was something about Khusi's calm demeanor that eased him. He nodded slightly, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.