The morning sun cast a warm glow over the majestic facade of Baclaran Church. Inside, a peaceful hum of devotion filled the air. Devotees, a familiar mix of young and old, shuffled in, their hands clutching flickering candles, their hearts brimming with silent prayers.

Suddenly, a tremor shook the very foundation of the church. A collective gasp rippled through the congregation as a swirling vortex of inky blackness materialized right in the center of the main hall, where the holy water font usually stood. Panic erupted like a firecracker thrown into a crowded room. People screamed, scrambling for the exits, their faces etched with terror.

In the blink of an eye, two figures stumbled out of the rift before it slammed shut with a deafening crack. Alaric and Ms. Selena, both unconscious and battered, crumpled onto the pristine marble floor. The once-sacred space was now eerily silent, punctuated only by the ragged gasps of shocked onlookers.

A brave young woman, her initial fear replaced by a surge of compassion, cautiously approached the fallen pair. Kneeling beside them, she gently checked for a pulse. Relief washed over her as she felt a faint thrumming beneath Ms. Selena's fingertips. Without hesitation, she tore a strip of fabric from her dress and pressed it against a bleeding gash on Alaric's forehead.

"Help! Someone call an ambulance!" she cried out, her voice echoing through the stunned crowd. Slowly, others emerged from their shock, their initial terror morphing into a hesitant desire to help. As sirens wailed in the distance, a sense of community, stronger than any fear, bloomed within the church walls.

Alaric cracked open an eye, greeted by the comforting sight of a wooden ceiling. A familiar warmth pressed against his back – the gentle cushioning of a bed. He sluggishly turned his head, spotting an IV bag dangling precariously, the saline solution dripping steadily into his hand.

"Hospital?" he mumbled, his voice raspy from disuse.

A wave of dizziness washed over him as he attempted to sit up. Before he could succumb to the nausea, a wave of relief washed over him. He was no longer in the desolate wasteland; he was no longer lost. A single word escaped his lips, barely a whisper, yet thick with emotion, "Home."

A soft sniffle cut through the sterile silence of the room. His mother, slumped in a chair beside his bed, stirred awake. As her eyes focused on her son, a jolt of shock ran through her. Tears welled up, threatening to spill over.

"My son!" she cried, a choked sob escaping her lips. In a flurry of movement, she was out of the chair and engulfing Alaric in a tight embrace. Her touch, a familiar warmth that had eluded him for so long, sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down his cheeks.

His father, awakened by his wife's cry, jolted awake. Seeing the tearful reunion unfolding before him, he scrambled to join the embrace. Soon, the hospital room resonated with the sounds of choked sobs and whispered reassurances. The anxiety, fear, and despair of the past days melted away, replaced by the overwhelming joy of a family reunited.

Alaric was home. He was safe. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. The ordeal had changed him, etched its mark upon his soul. But for now, he was content to simply be held by his parents, the warmth of their love a balm to his weary spirit. His journey had just begun, but for now, he would savor the comfort of home.

A few days crept by, each one a slow step toward recovery. Despite the aches and lingering fatigue from dehydration, Alaric received the welcome news – he was finally going home. As he carefully folded his clothes, a soft rap on the door startled him out of his thoughts.

"Come in," he called out, his voice still a little hoarse.

The door creaked open, revealing a familiar figure. Chairman Rosario stood in the doorway, Agent Mallari trailing behind him with a relieved smile etched on her face. A genuine grin spread across Alaric's face as he approached the Chairman and extended a hand for a shake.

"Mr. Cruz," Chairman Rosario greeted, his voice calm yet laced with a hint of warmth. "I'm truly relieved to see you well after the incident. How are you feeling?"

"Mr. Rosario," Alaric replied, squeezing the Chairman's hand firmly. "It's good to see you too! Honestly, overwhelmed with joy. Just when I thought all hope was lost, we managed to find our way back. Ms. Selena and I pulled off a miracle at the very last minute."

A flicker of sadness crossed Chairman Rosario's face as he mentioned Selena's name. "We were all overjoyed to hear you both made it back alive, Alaric, especially after what transpired with Selena and your team."

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Alaric's eyes widened in surprise. The Chairman knew? "You… you know about that?" he stammered, his voice laced with disbelief.

"No need for alarm, Alaric," Chairman Rosario reassured him. "The truth is, Selena woke up a day before you did. We spoke to her as soon as she was well enough. She recounted everything she could remember, including the… unfortunate incident with your team."

Alaric felt a jolt of shock. "She… she remembers that?"

"Yes, Alaric," the Chairman confirmed. "She remembers it all. However, she claims she had no control over her actions or thoughts during that time."

A frown creased Alaric's brow. "But, Mr. Chairman, where is Ms. Selena now? Is she alright?" Concern laced his voice.

Chairman Rosario offered a sympathetic smile. "She's physically unharmed, Mr. Cruz. However, the ordeal has taken a heavy toll on her, both mentally and emotionally. From what she's told us, I wouldn't be surprised if she chose to retire from Hunter duty."

Alaric's face fell, a mix of sadness and concern clouding his features. "Retire…" he echoed, the word a somber weight in the room.

The Chairman nodded. "Unfortunately, she'll also face an official investigation and potential charges stemming from the incident with your team."

Alaric's jaw clenched, disbelief replacing the earlier concern. "Charges?! But Ms. Selena wasn't in control! It was some kind of entity possessing her!" His voice rose, laced with conviction.

"We understand that, Alaric," Chairman Rosario assured him. "And believe me, we do. However, the law has to follow its course. Especially considering the families seeking justice for their loved ones lost in the incident."

Disappointment clouded Alaric's features. He knew Selena wouldn't have chosen to hurt anyone, possessed or not. The weight of the situation pressed down on him, a suffocating mix of worry and frustration.

"I understand this is a lot to take in, Mr. Cruz," Chairman Rosario said gently. "But let's move on to the reason for our visit. We're primarily interested in understanding what happened inside the rift, and how you and Ms. Selena managed to escape."

Alaric locked eyes with the Chairman, determination hardening his gaze. He wanted to tell them everything – about the Nexus, Lumina, and the mind-bending Labyrinth of Lost Memories. But as he opened his mouth to speak, a strange sensation washed over him. His thoughts stuttered, words catching in his throat like a scratched record. He found himself looping back, the scene resetting to Chairman Rosario's question hanging in the air.

A cold realization dawned on him. Perhaps, this information wasn't meant to be shared. There was a barrier, a filter that prevented him from divulging these secrets.

With a defeated sigh, Alaric abandoned the attempt. "Apologies, Mr. Chairman," he admitted, frustration lacing his voice. "The truth is, my memories of escaping the rift are hazy. All I can recall is… darkness. A blinding flash of light. Then, before succumbing to unconsciousness, another rift opened. I used the last of my strength to enter it, and…" He trailed off, gesturing towards the hospital bed. "Here I am."

A tense silence filled the room. Alaric held his breath, waiting for Chairman Rosario's reaction. He had managed to answer the question without revealing the truth, the secret locked safely within him. But a new question gnawed at him – what was the true nature of this rift, and why couldn't he speak of the events within it?

A tight smile played on Chairman Rosario's lips as he rose from his seat, his movements betraying a slight stiffness in his knee. "I see, Mr. Cruz," he said, his voice calm. "That aligns with what Ms. Selena reported as well. For now, I'll take your word at face value."

He paused, his gaze flickering with a hint of curiosity. "One last thing – do you have any recollection of how long you and Ms. Selena were trapped within the rift?"

Alaric nodded slowly. "Yes, sir. I was… well, floored when my parents told me we were missing for almost six months! It felt like only three weeks at most."

A flicker of surprise crossed Chairman Rosario's face. “Three weeks? That's a considerable amount of time. It seems the flow of time within that rift operates differently, perhaps at a much slower pace." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "For reassurance, I'd like to try something."

Alaric furrowed his brow. "What do you mean, sir?"

Chairman Rosario tilted his head towards Agent Mallari, who stepped forward and opened a sleek briefcase. Inside, nestled in velvet lining, lay a compact device with a glowing anima crystal embedded in its center.

"This, Mr. Cruz," Chairman Rosario explained, "is a portable Hunter's Gauge. Three weeks inside a rift is a significant duration, an extended exposure to anima energy. We need to verify your status. Are you still an Untouched, or did you perhaps absorb some anima and become Awakened?"

Alaric's eyes widened with a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this ordeal had unlocked his potential. Maybe he could become a Hunter after all, not just a Bagger relegated to cleanup duty.

With eager anticipation, he reached out and grasped the Hunter's Gauge. A wave of disappointment washed over him as the device remained inert. No surge of anima energy pulsed within him, no confirmation of his Awakened status. He stole a glance at Chairman Rosario and Agent Mallari, who were trying, and failing, to stifle their amusement.

"Our apologies, Mr. Cruz," Chairman Rosario finally managed, a hint of a chuckle lingering in his voice. "We didn't mean to cause offense. It seems our optimism was misplaced."

Alaric scowled, the sting of disappointment mixing with a flicker of suspicion. Were they laughing at him? Was there something more to this test than a simple status check?

A wry smile played on Chairman Rosario's lips as he straightened up, the strain evident on his face. "Well then, Mr. Cruz," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "It seems our best Salvators couldn't mend your left eye entirely. Here's a small token for your troubles."

He reached out, offering a small, ornately wrapped box. Curiosity piqued, Alaric cautiously accepted the gift and unwrapped it. Inside, nestled in plush velvet, lay a sleek eyepatch crafted from black leather. While the craftsmanship was undeniable, confusion clouded Alaric's features.

"Thank you, Mr. Chairman," he mumbled, the words lacking their usual warmth.

Chairman Rosario chuckled softly. "Goodbye, Mr. Cruz. We wish you a speedy recovery. Take care of yourself." With that, he gestured to Agent Mallari, and the two figures exited the room, leaving Alaric alone with his thoughts.

He traced the cool leather of the eyepatch with his fingers, a bitter taste settling on his tongue. Didn't they see it? The strange, pulsing energy that thrummed beneath his damaged eye socket? It felt like a foreign object, yet undeniably a part of him now. An eyepatch? They were offering him a pirate's accessory when he harbored a secret far more fantastical.

A sigh escaped his lips as he tossed the eyepatch onto the bedside table. The day's events swirled in his mind – the rift, Lumina, the cryptic words about Anima, and the unsettling silence surrounding it all. A single question echoed in the sterile silence of the room: what secrets did his brush with the rift leave behind, and how would they change him forever?

As the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, Alaric closed his eyes, the unanswered questions swirling like a maelstrom within him. The ordeal was far from over. This was just the beginning.