Lucian sat quietly beside Lucy as the healers from the Valerius family tended to her. His hand wrapped gently around hers, and for the first time in what felt like days, a wave of relief washed over him.

  She was safe.

  But his eyes drifted to the faint burn on her wrist, and a sharp pang of guilt knotted his chest.

  The seal must have reacted, he thought, his jaw tightening.

  Around him, the reinforcements worked swiftly. The children rescued from the house were being carefully moved, each still under the lingering effects of the brainwashing spell. The Valerius had begun their work to restore their minds, but Lucian couldn’t shake the heavy weight of failure pressing on him.

  I’m sorry, Lucy, he thought, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. I should’ve done more.

  The tent flap rustled, and Rika, Ash, and the others entered, their eyes sweeping over the scene. They took in Lucian sitting beside Lucy, her pale form now peaceful, and Kenneth lying unconscious on a nearby cot, his body returned to its usual form.

  Ash lingered at the entrance, his shoulders tense, guilt etched across his face. “It’s my fault,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I shouldn’t have suggested this.”

  Rika stepped forward, her gaze firm but understanding. She placed a steady hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “Ash, don’t put this all on yourself,” she said, her voice calm yet resolute. “We all agreed to the plan, and Kenneth made his choice. This isn’t just on you.”

  Ash hesitated, his expression conflicted, but he finally nodded, her words sinking in. His hands tightened into fists at his sides. “I just… I didn’t think it would get this bad.”

  Rika’s voice softened, though her determination remained. “None of us did. Kenneth knew the risks, and he trusted us to have his back.”

  Lucian glanced up from Lucy, his face unreadable as he watched the exchange. “He did,” he said quietly, his voice breaking the tension in the air. “And we didn’t let him down. We got Lucy and the other children back. That’s what matters.”

  The group fell silent for a moment.

  Ash exhaled shakily and finally stepped fully into the tent. “You’re right,” he said, his tone steadier now. “We did what we could.”

  As the tension eased, Aine turned her gaze to Kenneth. “Now we wait,” she said, her voice quiet but steady, “and hope he wakes up soon.”

  ＊＊＊

  Kenneth found himself once again in his parents’ home. The familiar surroundings brought a strange sense of comfort, a stark contrast to the chaos he’d just endured. The scent of home-cooked meals lingered faintly in the air, and the soft hum of the countryside was ever-present.

  Why am I here again? he wondered, glancing around the quiet space.

  In his previous dreams, he’d been in his child form, restricted and powerless, more of an observer than an active participant. But this time, he felt different—aware, grounded, and fully present.

  Why do these kinds of dreams always lead me to him?

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  As if on cue, Kenneth’s steps carried him to the living room, where he found a familiar figure seated on the worn sofa. There, with an air of casual authority, sat the First King, Hadrian, leisurely sipping tea as if this were his own home.

  “Oh! You’ve finally arrived,” Hadrian greeted, his faint smile warm but unreadable.

  Kenneth froze for a moment before bowing deeply. “Your Majesty”

  Hadrian chuckled softly, setting his cup down with deliberate care. “No need for formalities here, Kenneth. Come, sit.” He gestured to the chair opposite him.

  Kenneth hesitated, his gaze flicking between the First King and the familiar surroundings of his childhood home. But finally, he complied, settling into the chair. As he did, Hadrian’s gaze sharpened, his easy demeanor shifting into something more intense. The air between them seemed to hum with unspoken meaning, and Kenneth’s pulse quickened under the emperor’s penetrating stare.

  “So,” Hadrian said after a pause, leaning forward slightly. “Do you understand why you’re here?”

  Kenneth swallowed, a mix of awe and apprehension swirling within him. “I… I’m not sure,” he admitted, meeting Hadrian’s gaze. “But I have questions.”

  Hadrian’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. “Go on.”

  Kenneth took a steadying breath, his voice cautious as he asked, “Your Majesty… why does this feel like more than just a dream?”

  It wasn’t like the other visions he’d had—those fleeting glimpses where he was no more than a spectator. This was different. He could feel it, the boundaries between reality and whatever this was blurring in a way he couldn’t explain.

  Hadrian tilted his head, studying Kenneth with an almost amused expression. “Because you’re right,” he said simply. “This isn’t just a dream. This is your consciousness, and I’ve… taken residence here.”

  Kenneth’s mind raced at the revelation. The First King’s consciousness… within me?

  As if reading his thoughts, Hadrian continued, his tone calm but thoughtful. “It wasn’t until you fed the Tree of Life with your magic that I awakened.” He glanced around the room, his lips twitching in faint amusement. “Seems a thousand years have passed. Quite a long nap, wouldn’t you say?”

  Kenneth stared at him, struggling to process what he’d just heard. The idea that the First King's consciousness had been dormant within him, only now awakening, felt impossible—and yet here he was, speaking as casually as though this were the most natural thing in the world.

  Before Kenneth could voice his thoughts, Hadrian let out a soft yawn, his expression turning faintly weary. “Apologies,” he said, leaning back slightly. “Possessing your body during that fight took more energy than I expected. I’m using the last of my strength just to hold this conversation.”

  Hadrian leaned forward and placed a finger gently on Kenneth’s forehead.

  In an instant, a flood of memories rushed into Kenneth’s mind. He saw himself in the midst of the battle—his movements impossibly fast, his spells precise and devastating, his power overwhelming. He saw himself wielding fire unlike anything he had known before.

  “Blue flames?” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. The Ultimate Fire he had known was a fierce red-orange, powerful yet familiar. But this… this was something else entirely.

  Hadrian nodded, his gaze distant and thoughtful. “Not many can wield such fire,” he said softly, his words heavy with unspoken meaning.

  Kenneth felt a strange mixture of awe and confusion as he watched Hadrian’s form begin to waver, fading like mist. The faint comfort of his presence was slipping away, leaving behind a void filled with unanswered questions.

  “Wait!” Kenneth called, stepping forward. “Why does it have to be me?” His voice cracked, desperation bleeding through.

  Just a few months ago, he had been an ordinary boy, far removed from the weight of magic and destiny. Now, the Ultimate Fire awakened within him, thrusting him into a world he barely understood, caught between his past and a future he hadn’t chosen.

  Hadrian paused, turning back with a knowing smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He stepped closer, placing a hand gently on Kenneth’s head.

  “Kid,” he said, his tone warm but tinged with amusement, “you’re asking the wrong person. The answers you’re looking for? They’re not mine to give. They lie within you… and in time, you’ll uncover them.”

  Kenneth’s breath caught as he stared up at the First King, his heart heavy with frustration and a longing for clarity.

  Hadrian’s form began to shimmer, fading into the air. “For now,” he continued, his voice soft but firm, “don’t keep your friends waiting. They’re worried about you—and you’ve taken long enough.”

  Kenneth hesitated, torn between the desire to ask more and the understanding that this conversation was over, for now. He nodded reluctantly.

  Hadrian’s smile softened, a flicker of something paternal in his expression. He turned, his figure dissolving completely, and the world around Kenneth faded into darkness.