In the dimly lit room, I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out why he had summoned me this time. It didn’t take any special skill to realize—he wanted to lecture me. The only question was what exactly had reached his ears—what had I done that caught his attention?

And yet, all I wanted was to sleep. I didn’t want an argument, I didn’t want unnecessary words. But he had always been the kind of person who enjoyed setting others straight, and he especially liked doing it with me.

When he finally spoke, it wasn’t what I had expected.

—What’s bothering you?

I flinched. That question hit me harder than any reprimand or scolding could have. It must have shown on my face because, after a brief pause, he added in a quieter voice:

—Tell me. I can feel something is tearing you apart inside.

Something tensed within me as his words reached me. My thoughts scattered, and a familiar tightness settled in my chest. This question… This question couldn’t be real. People only asked such things out of politeness, out of habit, with a shallow kind of concern. Like when they say, “How are you?” But he didn’t ask it that way.

And that paralyzed me.

—Don’t overthink it now. — His voice was calm but firm. — It’s just a simple question. What’s bothering you?

Defiantly, I jumped to my feet.

—Why shouldn’t I overthink? That’s what my brain is for, isn’t it? No one tells me when or what I can think about!

He didn’t say a word. He just looked into my eyes, took two steps closer, and did something I never expected.

He hugged me.

His hand rested gently on my chest, right above my heart.

I froze. But I didn’t pull away.

It felt as if every emotion I had buried suddenly wanted to rise to the surface. As if the pain trapped in my chest was finally breaking free. For a moment, I stood there motionless, trying to suppress that suffocating tightness that had been growing inside me for weeks—maybe even months. But when his breath touched my neck, something inside me finally gave in.

My tears started to fall.

At first, just one or two trickled down my face, but soon they came faster, deeper—like acid burning through the walls of my soul, releasing everything I had tried to keep locked away.

He didn’t say anything. He just held me.

And I cried into his shoulder.

I don’t know how much time passed. Minutes? Hours? All I knew was that with every tear that fell, my chest felt just a little lighter. As if he truly understood what I was going through. I didn’t have to explain. I didn’t have to tell him anything. He was simply there.

His hand slid up to the back of my neck, and my fingers instinctively tangled in his hair. The movement was natural, unthinking. It just happened. And then…

He kissed me.

It was the second time, yet it felt like the first. Not rushed, not clumsy—real. Deep, certain, yet inexplicably gentle. His lips pressed against mine, our tongues slowly intertwining, and I had no idea what was happening between us.

I didn’t want to define it. I didn’t want to label whatever this was.

I just wanted to feel it.

And when we finally lay beside each other on the bed, this time with his arms wrapped around me, I felt, for the first time in my life, that someone was exactly where I needed them to be, exactly when I needed them the most.

When I opened my eyes in the morning, an inexplicable warmth spread through me. It was the same feeling as coming home after a long, exhausting day—when everything finally falls into place. Deep in my heart, I had always known how much I hated waking up alone. And now, after such a long time, I wasn’t alone. This realization struck me even harder.

He was here. Holding me just as he had when we fell asleep. His breathing was steady, his arms wrapped around me as if, even in his sleep, he instinctively wanted to keep me safe.

I was just beginning to lose myself in the comfort of that moment when a sudden, loud knocking shattered it.

— “General, may I come in?” — an impatient voice called from outside the door.

I was about to jump up and disappear into the bathroom before they could enter, but before I could move, he—still half-asleep, slightly disheveled, his eyes barely open—simply murmured:

— “Come in.”

I froze. Of course. Why would he care that I was here?

The door opened, and a man in dark clothing stepped inside—followed by an arrogant woman. She scanned us with a slow, indulgent glance before smirking.

— “Why am I not surprised?” — she remarked mockingly, lazily brushing a strand of hair from her face. — “Good morning to this, too.”

I met her gaze for a long moment, then turned to leave the room without a word.

— “No need to go,” she called after me. “This concerns you as well.”

I stopped.

— “The convoy is leaving soon,” she continued. “We just didn’t understand why you weren’t at the gates on time. We were missing the General, but now it all makes sense.”

She spoke as if I were some lowly servant, and her condescending tone irritated me so much that I didn’t even bother to respond. I just nodded curtly, turned on my heel, and disappeared into the bathroom.

The cold water against my face helped clear my mind a little, but it didn’t dampen my good mood. I tied my hair into a loose bun at the nape of my neck—a habit I always had when I felt cheerful.

I was still wearing a loose white shirt and jeans when I returned. The General was getting dressed.

And then, I saw his upper body.

Needless to say, I forgot to breathe for a moment. The perfect muscles, the effortless movements—it was like watching a painting come to life. He slipped a simple black shirt over his head, then turned to me.

— “Good morning,” I murmured.

— “Good morning,” he replied, his voice slightly hoarse.

I was about to leave and request a uniform from the base when he caught my arm.

— “No need to change,” he said, as if reading my thoughts. His voice was calm, unusually soft. “Don’t be embarrassed. Don’t worry about what they think outside. You look beautiful as you are.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I felt a slight rush of warmth from his sudden compliment—until something else caught my attention.

— “Besides, you don’t need protective gear just to cook,” he added casually, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

I blinked slowly.

— “Cooking?”

As a child, I had loved to cook, but since I had been here—for months, almost a year—I hadn’t even fried an egg.

The General continued getting ready as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

— “Michael will tell you what menu to prepare,” he said simply.

And then it clicked.

Ah… of course. The culprit had been found.

Michael. Who else could have come up with this? I would have a few words for him when I saw him.

Still, I was getting curious. This meeting—or was it more of a gathering? Based on the attire, it seemed more like a casual event than an official one. My thoughts drifted, and before I could stop myself, I glanced at him again. The blonde hair, the deep ocean-blue eyes… and that black shirt that…

I pushed the thoughts aside as he turned to me with that familiar, icy gaze. But now, there was something else in it. Something calmer. Almost gentle.

I followed him outside, and soon, we arrived at the convoy. As we got into the vehicle, I stared at the landscape passing by. We were heading toward the human city. To that small, isolated hillside. To the place where…

To the place where I had once sung out every sorrow in my heart.

The small house stood there, silent. Dark-clothed figures surrounded it, and Michael was already waiting for us with a wide grin.

— “Hey, little girl!” — he called cheerfully. “Where’s my Kung Fu Panda?”

— “Right here,” I sighed. But as we got closer, I pressed my lips together.

Leaning in, I forced the sweetest smile onto my face and spoke in the softest voice:

— “Your little Kung Fu Panda is about to show you a right hook and a left hook if you don’t explain immediately why I’m supposed to be cooking.”

Michael tried to look serious, but I knew he was enjoying this.

— “You do realize,” he said innocently, “that as a big, tough, black-clad soldier, you wouldn’t have been allowed to stay inside, right? But if you’re a sweet, adorable, charming—”

— “I still need to work on ‘charming,’” I interrupted dryly.

Michael chuckled.

— “Then you’ll be an adorable little chef. That way, you can stay inside.”

— “So, when is the target arriving?” I asked as we walked toward the building.

— “In half an hour. Until then, your job is to prepare the ingredients and… you know, do all those little kitchen things women usually do.”

I turned to him, blinking slowly.

— “Mhm. Sure. I know exactly what you mean.”

— “You… don’t, do you?”

— “Not a damn clue. But I’ll figure it out.”

And with that, we stepped inside.

When I found out that the guests would be at least half an hour late, I didn’t know what to do with myself at first. I didn’t want to start the kitchen preparations yet, so I looked around the house awkwardly, trying to make it feel a bit more homely. My gaze landed on an empty vase, and then beyond the window, I noticed the small rose garden in the backyard. The purity of the snow-white roses captivated me somehow, and since the others weren’t particularly paying attention to me, I grabbed a pair of scissors, went outside, and cut two stems.

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I had always loved flowers, and at that moment, it felt especially good to bring a bit of beauty into the cold atmosphere. I placed the two roses in a vase filled with water at the center of the table, hoping that it might at least slightly ease the tension. The others had already settled in, sitting expectantly in their chairs. The silence was finally broken by the general:

— Nice roses.

I straightened up proudly as Michael looked at me and added with a half-smile:

— Very nice, little girl. Would you bring a few more? There’s just enough space for a few more stems.

— No, thank you — I replied quickly.

I wanted to say something else, but strangely, the ruler spoke instead of me:

— Two roses symbolize love and the dead. A tribute to the departed souls while also representing the eternity of love. The unity of an end and a rebirth.

I froze. This thought had always been close to me, as if it evoked a fragment of something I had believed my whole life. Just as I loved the white rose, I believed in this too. It was strange to hear it from someone else’s mouth, but maybe I wasn’t the only one who thought this way. The air changed for a moment, as if a deeper meaning had settled over the moment.

I didn’t want to dwell on it further, so I turned toward the kitchen instead. It was time to begin the preparations.

As I took out the white dishes and started chopping the vegetables, a strange calmness washed over me. I enjoyed the way the fresh scent of tomatoes spread and how the vegetables crunched under the knife. I drizzled olive oil into the pan, and without realizing it, I moved as if I were a professional chef. My thoughts were still lingering on the previous night, and I didn’t even notice Michael sitting quietly, talking with the general. However, one gaze remained fixed on me the entire time.

The ruler.

He observed me as if he were watching the world from behind a glass wall, yet his gaze pierced through every distance. I couldn’t ignore it. When I turned toward him for a moment, I saw that his eyes seemed to recall an old memory. But before our gazes could truly lock, the hum of a car engine shattered the silence of the night.

The car stopped in front of the house, the engine turned off, and the doors opened. The guests arrived, accompanied by tall bodyguards in dark blue uniforms. The atmosphere changed in an instant. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Clarissa. I couldn’t look at her neutrally. I knew what she had done, I knew what she was planning.

Beside her stood a tall man with black hair, his striking blue eyes creating a strange contrast with his appearance. He looked like a doctor—calm, strong, and unpredictable. He had a well-built physique, but his posture suggested gentleness rather than aggression. He must have been Raphael.

Clarissa stepped inside elegantly, first greeting the ruler with cool respect before turning to Michael and the general.

— Oh, Gabriel! — she purred with exaggerated enthusiasm. — It’s been so long! I’m so delighted! Oh, and Your Majesty… how rigid you are today!

Her voice… it had been irritating even when she introduced the box, but now it vibrated even more with an unbearable superiority. Every word carried a hidden implication, a dagger wrapped in a smile.

The weather outside was pleasant, so they took their seats on the terrace, not far from the kitchen. I kept working but listened with half an ear, trying to catch parts of the conversation.

I was so engrossed in eavesdropping that I carelessly burned my finger. I let out a sharp hiss. The general immediately stepped forward.

— Are you alright?

— Yes, it’s nothing — I said, though the cold compress was already on my finger.

Clarissa sighed dramatically.

— Oh, and is the food ready yet? — she asked sweetly. — And most importantly… is there dessert?

I raised an eyebrow.

— Perhaps an appetizer? A main course? Dessert? Please, dear, do tell me what’s on the menu!

— Excuse me — she continued, looking at me — but you know, I really love eating. After all, in the state of having no physical body for such a long time, I had no chance to experience it. It’s always… a novelty. It makes me ravenous. — She articulated the words disgustingly.

— I understand — I forced a smile.

When I finally placed the dishes on the table, another car engine rumbled to a stop. Clarissa jumped up excitedly.

— Oh, how wonderful! My new guardian has arrived! He’ll tell you all about how the box affected him…

The air left my lungs when I saw the figure stepping out of the car. Zach… or at least someone in his body.

My eyes widened.

Michael’s expression tensed, but the ruler remained seated calmly, as if he had known everything in advance.

The boy stepped closer with a smile.

— They cleansed that other soul out of me so quickly! It’s an incredible feeling! Like I’ve been reborn!

My hand slowly tightened around the flower-cutting scissors beside me. I wanted to hurl them at Clarissa.

Michael tried to calm me down with a glance from the side, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely in control of his emotions either.

I took a deep breath and pulled out a bottle of red wine.

— My apologies, but I thought such a success called for a toast.

The silence deepened, thick with tension. And I enjoyed it.

I poured the wine slowly, watching as the dark liquid trickled down the inside of the glass. My movement was almost ceremonial—like sealing something shut and beginning something new. Michael was still watching me, his gaze carrying that warning shade I knew so well. He knew I was pushing the limits.

Zach—or at least whoever was in his body—took his glass with satisfaction, swirling the wine as if he truly appreciated the taste. His movement was perfect, too perfect. A replica of someone who once loved life but now only carried that knowledge as a memory.

— A toast would indeed be appropriate — the ruler finally spoke, having merely observed everything until now, with almost statuesque calm. — But what should we drink to? New beginnings? The past? Or perhaps… victory?

Clarissa chuckled and raised her glass with ease.

— To change, of course. Isn’t that why we’re here?

My grip tightened involuntarily around the bottle’s neck. Clarissa spoke about change as if it were just a new hairstyle or a different fashion choice. But I knew it was much more than that. The change she referred to affected people’s fate, their souls—and she enjoyed it.

Michael slowly raised his glass, letting his gaze sweep over the group before stopping on me for a brief moment. With a small nod, he signaled me not to do anything reckless.

I lifted my glass as well but said nothing. I refused to bless this entire charade.

The crystal glasses clinked softly. The deep shade of the red wine almost glowed against the white tablecloth.

I ran my finger along the rim of my glass before looking up at Zach.

— I’m so glad you’re safe. I was really worried something might happen to you.

Zach lifted his glass, responding with a slight delay.

— Oh, yes, but now you can relax. See? I’m just fine. — He grinned unconvincingly.

So he wanted to play this game? Fine. I’d play along.

— And tell me, how’s your head feeling since then?

Zach hesitated for a split second before shrugging.

— It’s fine, thanks. Not much to miss.

I let my glass rest between my fingers, tilting my head slightly.

— No?

Zach tensed slightly, as if unsure where I was going with this.

— No.

— Are you sure?

The air shifted. The room fell silent, everyone listening.

— Oh, so… no physical harm at all? — I asked lightly, but my eyes remained on him.

Zach tried to dismiss it.

— No, just… possession. But they helped me. The box is wonderful…

Zach placed his glass on the table with a small movement.

— Ah, I see. So, in the end… I only hit you over the head with a half-meter piece of concrete.

My words froze the air.

Clarissa’s expression made it clear she didn’t approve of what I was doing. Zach—the so-called Zach—couldn’t utter a single word. I saw it on his face: he had just realized he was caught.

The general was already moving, ready to grab my arm and lead me away, when the ruler suddenly cut in, his voice sharp and commanding.

— Excuse me, — he said, scanning the others. His tone was cool and measured. — Soldier, come with me!

Slowly, I turned toward Zach, giving him one last look. I touched two fingers to my forehead in a crisp, military nod before following the ruler.

The ruler’s voice resonated through the hall, quiet yet piercing. There was no anger, no fury—just a raw statement, as if he were declaring an undeniable truth that existed in this world.

— Just because you have reprimanded me once without consequences, it does not mean you have the right to reprimand every superior member. Even if, perhaps, your statement is true.

His words struck cold, like pebbles hitting a glass surface. My shoulders tensed. Not because of his icy tone—I was used to that—but because within every sentence, there lurked something… something superior in its very lack of superiority.

— These matters are not for you to handle. They are for us. For me. And thank you very much, but I did not ask for assistance with my affairs. However, if you break this rule again, you may pay another visit—this time with a golden ticket—to the inhabitants of the danger zone. Perhaps they will knock some sense into you.

Oh, so he even knows that I have been beyond the mist. Of course. If he is so all-knowing, if he sees and understands everything, then how did his system fall apart? How could that fragile balance he so desperately tries to protect begin to crack?

A slow burn of anger began to rise in me. My fingers clenched into fists at my sides. But no. Not now. I had to hold myself back. I couldn’t let him get under my skin.

— By the way, a word of advice — he continued, still calm, unwavering. — Do not burn your hands with the sins of others, and do not meddle in the affairs of the archangels.

I almost laughed. Cynically. Mockingly. As if he of all people had the right to lecture anyone on morality, when it was blatantly clear that people were being stripped of their own souls, their own consciousness, and then cast beyond the mist. And yet he had the audacity to act as if he were above it all? As if he were watching his own empire through a damn glass window.

I knew I couldn’t push my luck any further now.

The silence was almost tangible as the ruler looked at me. He didn’t ask. He didn’t doubt. He simply declared his truth, then, with a single gesture, ended the conversation.

I apologized. My voice was calm, almost cold, as if I were reciting a well-rehearsed line.

— It won’t happen again.

For the briefest moment, I thought I saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but it vanished so quickly that I might have imagined it. He probably didn’t fully believe I was truly submitting. He didn’t need to. I didn’t believe it either.

Clarissa, Raphael, and the ruler left. The grand hall slowly emptied, leaving only Michael, the general, myself, and the dark-clad figures waiting outside.

The general said nothing. He didn’t question me, didn’t accuse me, didn’t reprimand me. He simply stood there, almost motionless, as he always did. But his silence was different this time. There was no rigid military discipline, no unspoken threat. It was simply… patient.

Strangely enough, that felt good.

As we were about to leave, I quickly told Michael that I needed to run back for a few roses. I was just about to step away when he moved beside me and, softly, almost only for me, said:

“Wow. I didn’t think you’d react so fiercely.”

He flashed a half-smile at me, but there was a warning in his eyes.

“But you might want to tone it down a bit, or we’ll get caught pretty fast.”

I didn’t look at him; I simply cut off two roses with a swift motion.

“I need to look into my past lives.” My voice was quiet but firm. “I’m sure I know a lot, I just don’t remember it.”

Michael nodded thoughtfully, then glanced at my necklace.

“Considering you bear Samuel’s mark on your neck, I can believe that.”

My gaze unconsciously dropped to my pendant. I stared at it for a moment, then quickly lifted my head.

“Why?” I asked cautiously.

Michael reached out toward my necklace with a fleeting smile.

“Kid, this isn’t just a necklace.”

His fingers slid lightly along the chain, but I could tell he hesitated to touch it.

“This necklace alone is enough to burn in my hand, just as it could completely consume a soul if worn by the wrong person.”

I held my breath for a moment.

“It was made for you,” Michael continued. “Saints don’t pick these up in thrift shops or jewelry stores. They are created with a specific purpose. They’re shaped from energy, and you won’t find them in any modern store. Not in H&M, not in Zara.”

I glanced sideways at him and remarked sarcastically, “Thanks for the fashion lesson, Michael. Very helpful.”

He let out a soft chuckle, then regained his seriousness.

“If you really plan to do this, what’s your plan?”

I pushed aside my thoughts about the necklace and answered while heading toward the cars.

“There’s a marble table in the palace. The last time I woke up on it, I had a strange feeling. I didn’t understand why at the time, but now I’m almost certain it’s connected to one of my past lives. That’s where I experienced the journey. Someone gave me back my consciousness.”

I stopped for a moment and looked at Michael seriously.

“If I tried again… could I succeed? Without someone restoring my consciousness?”

Michael studied me for a long moment before shrugging.

“Maybe. It won’t be as intense. But if you try really hard and open your chakras, then yes. Even without help. But you need the right place. That pedestal, for example.”

“But I can’t just walk in there. Or… maybe I could try,” I said quietly.

Michael snorted.

“What do you think? That you’ll stroll into the palace and casually tell the old lady, ‘Sorry, sorry, just here for a little soul trip’?”

I shot him a look.

“Michael, this isn’t funny.”

But he grew serious.

“I know another place.”

I halted.

“Where?”

“There’s one in my manor as well.”

I turned to him, surprised.

“What?”

Michael met my gaze with a faint smile.

“My manor wasn’t built yesterday. It’s infused with a lot of energy. There’s a reason I live in the human city and not in Rindanof, surrounded by armor and soldiers. The most interesting and valuable things are always beyond the borders, not within them.”

We didn’t have time to talk more. The cars were ready. The General had already taken his seat in one of the vehicles, prepared to leave.

I got in as well. I held the two roses tightly between my fingers while watching the road. Michael left in another convoy.

As we headed toward Rindanof, the General’s deep voice broke the silence.

“Please, change the way you speak to deities, angels, and archangels. I fear it might bring you trouble.”

My grip on the roses tightened, but I didn’t look at him.

“If anything bothers you, feel free to tell me,” he added.

For a moment, I considered his words.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” I finally said quietly.

I knew he cared. I knew he was no longer asking just out of habit. And, in a way, it felt good that he didn’t push, didn’t lecture, didn’t expect me to bare my soul immediately.

As we approached the palace, the General sat beside me in silence, his gaze fixed on the road. Yet the silence wasn’t heavy or oppressive—on the contrary. There was something comforting about it.

I didn’t know how he had gotten so close to me so quickly. He didn’t pry, didn’t try to force answers out of me—he was simply present. And that… felt good. Again. It was strange to feel this way about someone. To realize that he genuinely cared about what happened to me. It was hard to get used to. Or maybe I just didn’t dare.

As we arrived at the palace, the car slowed, and the General stepped out. He didn’t look back at me.

For a moment, something inside me tensed. Maybe I had expected something. A small gesture, a brief glance, anything. But what was I thinking? I shouldn’t be naive. Just because I had slept at his place twice didn’t mean I could always stay there.

I was about to turn away when he suddenly spoke up, his voice low.

“There’s a surprise waiting for you at your base.”

I stared after him for a moment, then the driver pressed the gas, and we drove off. My curiosity grew stronger.

When I finally entered my room, I immediately spotted Chloe—and beside her, Elise.

Elise was waiting with sparkling eyes, shifting excitedly, barely able to hold back her questions. I could tell that if I said just one word, she’d start bombarding me with gossip and speculations.

But this time, I didn’t want to hide everything from them. I wanted to let them in—at least a little. Because I knew I would need Elise’s support. If she stayed by my side when I delved into my memories, maybe… maybe I wouldn’t be so lost in them.