The safehouse was dead silent, except for the faint humming of the generator outside. Inside, Heaven sat on the edge of the bed, cradling Michael's hand as he lay asleep. His fever had gone down slightly, but his breathing was still shallow, and dark circles framed his tiny eyes.
Dylan stood by the window, arms folded, his eyes scanning the trees as if expecting shadows to emerge. His usual cold demeanor was replaced by something harder to define—concern.
"He's stable now," Heaven whispered, not looking up. "The doctor said we were lucky."
Dylan nodded, still watching the tree line. "I know."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Heaven stood. "Why are you helping us? You've taken everything from me… and now you're protecting me like…" she trailed off.
He turned toward her, slowly. "Because I made a mistake. Because I thought keeping you caged would make me forget what I lost."
"Samantha?" she asked quietly.
The name cracked something in his expression. He nodded once. "She died in my arms. Said something before she went… something I never listened to until now."
Heaven blinked. "What did she say?"
"Move on, Dylan. Let go. Don't become a monster for the sake of a memory."
He looked away then, jaw clenched. "But I did. I became the worst version of myself."
"You still are," Heaven said, voice trembling.
His gaze returned to her. "Then let me change that. Starting with protecting what matters to you."
Heaven studied him, unsure whether to believe the shift in his words. But for once, he didn't look like the cold tyrant—he looked like a man with cracks.
---
Elsewhere – Richard's Next Move
Richard stared down at the floor of the underground chamber where Elise stood beside Elric, bruised and bleeding.
"Do you think I'm disappointed?" Richard asked.
Elric hesitated. "We underestimated them. They had backup."
"And you failed," Richard hissed, turning sharply. "Dylan's weakness is now fully exposed. Heaven and that child—he'd burn the world to protect them."
"What's the plan now?" Elise asked.
Richard's lips curled. "We don't strike the body—we strike the heart."
He turned to a large screen displaying grainy footage of the safehouse, a red blinking dot placed precisely on it.
"Let's see how far Dylan's willing to go for the people he claims to care about. This time, I won't miss."
---
Back at the Safehouse – The Calm Before the Storm
Heaven tucked the blanket tighter around Michael, brushing back his curls. Dylan remained near the window, his gun resting on the table beside him.
"You should sleep," he murmured.
"I can't," she replied. "Not when he's still sick. Not when they could find us again."
Dylan turned slightly. "I won't let anyone hurt you."
Heaven met his eyes. "You already did."
The silence was heavier this time.
Then, almost reluctantly, Dylan spoke. "Then I'll spend whatever time I have left making up for it. Even if it kills me."
Outside, the wind howled.
Inside, two people sat trapped between the past and a war closing in.
And far away, Richard's red blinking dot drew closer.