While Mav’s face was buried in his mother’s chest, he suddenly felt his strength slipping away. A ringing noise filled his ears, drowning out the sound of his parents’ voices. All he could sense was his mother’s hand gently brushing his hair. His eyes grew heavier and heavier until he finally succumbed, his consciousness fading away once more.

Mav had pushed his body to its limits. Using four high-mana-cost skills, draining all his mana, and then draining it again immediately after recovery—combined with exhausting himself and taking a deliberate punch to the gut—had left him utterly spent. If his body could speak, it would’ve cried out in protest long ago. But instead, it forced him into a shutdown, though at least this time, it happened in his mother’s comforting embrace, rather than from his father’s punch. His body, finally at peace, slipped into a long, dreamless sleep.

But suddenly, a terrifying vision filled his mind—Mav found himself standing in a cold, dimly lit room, the walls closing in on him. The air was thick with the scent of death. His heart pounded as he slowly walked toward the bed in the center of the room, where a figure lay motionless under a white sheet. The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant echo of a sob—a sound that sent chills down his spine.

With trembling hands, Mav reached for the edge of the sheet, his breath hitching as he slowly pulled it back. There, beneath the cover, lay his mother, her skin pale and lifeless. Her once vibrant silver hair was dull, and her lips, which had always spoken words of comfort, were now cold and unmoving. A sense of dread washed over him, freezing him in place as he stared at her face, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

Suddenly, the sound of his father's anguished cries filled the room. Mav turned to see Nacht, his strong and stoic father, kneeling beside the bed, his shoulders shaking with each sob. "Emily... Emily, please..." Nacht's voice was broken, pleading for something Mav knew was impossible. The sight of his father, who had always been a pillar of strength, reduced to a grieving, helpless man, shattered Mav's heart.

"No! This can't be real!" Mav's voice cracked as he screamed, trying to will the nightmare away, but the scene remained. The walls seemed to close in further, the room growing darker, colder. His mother's face, once full of life, was now a haunting reminder of what he had lost.

Mav reached out, desperate to touch her, to feel any warmth left in her body, but as his fingers brushed her skin, it was as cold as the grave. A scream built in his throat, but before it could escape, the world around him shattered like glass, plunging him into a void of darkness.

Slowly, the familiar surroundings of his room came into focus. He was back home. Something warm and heavy pressed against his stomach. Turning to look, he saw his mother, Emily, fast asleep with her head resting on him, her silver hair gently stirred by the breeze from the open window. It was bright outside, yet the air felt cool.

Seeing his mother there, alive and breathing, her face back to normal, Mav felt an overwhelming sense of relief. He wanted to cry again, but it was as though his body had run out of tears. He licked his dry lips, realizing how dehydrated he was after being unconscious for who knows how long.

He reached out and touched his mother’s face, feeling the warmth of her skin like a hearth, warming his entire being.

The chill of his touch roused Emily from her sleep. Slowly, she blinked, then reality set in. “Mav?” she murmured, tears welling up in her eyes. Mav wanted to respond, but his throat was too dry to speak. All he could do was gaze at her and gently wipe her tears away. Emily, seeing her son illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the window, his silver hair fluttering in the breeze, felt as if he might vanish at any moment. She pulled him into a tight hug, as though holding onto him would keep him from slipping away.

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Mav hugged her back as tightly as his weak body would allow. He swallowed hard and finally managed to speak, his voice rough. “Mom… I’m so glad you’re here.”

Emily’s grip tightened, and she began to repeat his name, “Mav, Mav,” as if she hadn’t said it in years.

After a while, she finally let go, noticing his chapped lips. “You must be so thirsty. Let me get you some water,” she said, her voice laced with worry. Mav nodded, a small smile on his face. She leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, the warmth of her lips offering a brief comfort. Then, with a last glance at her son, she immediately stood and hurried out of the room.

While she was gone, Mav turned to look out the window, the cool breeze brushing his face. He recalled everything that had happened. “Display status,” he whispered to himself, needing to confirm that none of it had been a dream. As he scrolled through the display, there it was:

Dark Red Nuke

And a bit lower:

Dark Blue Miracle

“So it really wasn’t a dream,” he thought. When he tapped on the skill, it displayed:

Skill Name: Dark Blue Miracle (Maximum) lvl. 2/120

Mana Cost: 119

Cooldown: 120 seconds

“It leveled up when I used it? Is that how healing skills work?” he wondered. Then he noticed that the mana cost had decreased by one. “Maybe the mana cost drops by one each time it levels up?” He wondered if Dark Red Nuke would level up too. The thought made his heart race.

But as he reached for that excitement, a wave of exhaustion washed over him. His body was still too weak, barely recovered from the strain he’d put it through. The memory of draining his mana completely—twice—made him realize just how close he’d come to pushing too far. Even lifting his head felt like a monumental effort. "I need to recover first," he reminded himself, forcing the excitement to the back of his mind. There would be time for that later, once his strength returned.

His thoughts drifted to his other, lesser-used skills—Yellow Enhancement and Green Protection. “I wonder what new skills I could get if I used Dark Ascension on them too?” His heart raced again with excitement at the possibilities.

But his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Emily entered the room, holding a plate of soup in one hand and a cup of water in the other. Behind her was Nacht, his father.

The smell of the soup made Mav’s stomach grumble, and he realized just how hungry he was. Emily gently brought the cup to his lips, letting him drink slowly to avoid choking. After he finished, she wiped away the droplets of water that had dribbled down his chin.

“Mom… can I have some of your cooking? I’ve missed it so much.” Mav asked in a weak voice. The request tugged at Emily’s heart, filling her with both love and pain. “Of course. Anything for you, Mav,” she replied, her voice shaky. Then, as she steadied herself, she glanced at Nacht before turning back to Mav. “By the way, your father told me everything.” Mav’s heart sank at her words. He looked at Nacht, recalling what he had put him through. “I've already had a word with him,” Emily continued, her tone firm but gentle. “But that doesn’t mean you’re getting off easy.”

Mav looked from his father to his mother, who now wore a look of gentle reproach. “Uh… can I eat first, Mom?” he asked, scratching his head nervously. Nacht couldn’t hold back his laughter, and soon Mav joined in, followed by Emily. Their laughter filled the room, a sound of pure relief and joy.