The classroom clock ticked steadily, each second dragging slower than the last. Afternoon sunlight spilled through half-closed blinds, striping the whiteboard in uneven shadows. The air was warm — too warm — and the slow drone of Mr. Harrow's voice only made it worse.
Lian sat at the back of the room, slumped in his seat like a rag doll forgotten by time. His head rested on his crossed arms, and his black hoodie covered half his face. He was fast asleep.
"…and if we look at the water cycle," Mr. Harrow continued, pointing lazily at a diagram projected on the screen, "we see how evaporation, condensation, and precipitation work in a constant loop…"
Lian didn't hear any of it. In his mind, there was no classroom. No diagrams. No Mr. Harrow. Just silence. Or maybe a faint echo of something better — like running through a forest trail, wind in his face. Or diving underwater in a swimming pool where everything went quiet, peaceful, far away.
A pencil tapped against a desk somewhere near the front. A girl coughed. Pages flipped. Lian shifted slightly but stayed asleep.
Mr. Harrow paused, his eyes scanning the room. Then he spotted him.
"Lian" he said, voice sharper now, "perhaps you can tell the class what process happens after condensation."
A few heads turned toward the back row. One boy whispered, "He's dead asleep." Another stifled a laugh.
Lian didn't respond.
Mr. Harrow sighed and walked down the aisle. His footsteps echoed off the tile floor. He stopped beside Lian's desk and tapped it with the end of a marker.
Lian flinched awake.
"Huh—what?"
"Nice of you to join us," Mr. Harrow said. "Care to answer the question?"
Lian blinked, then squinted at the blackboard at the front of the room. Water cycle. Easy stuff.
"Precipitation," he muttered.
Mr. Harrow raised an eyebrow. "Correct, but maybe next time try staying conscious for the whole lecture?"
Lian shrugged, rubbing his eyes. "Maybe next time try making it interesting."
A few gasps. Someone muttered, "Oooh."
Mr. Harrow stared at him for a moment. Then turned and walked back to the front of the class without another word.
Lian sat up straight now, staring out the window beside him. Outside, the trees rustled in the wind, and a bird landed on the fence by the soccer field.
He wished he were anywhere else.
Anywhere but here.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Students shuffled out of the classroom, calling out goodbyes and thanking Mr. Harrow as they filed past his desk.
"See you tomorrow, Mr. Harrow!" a chorus of voices echoed.
Lian, however, did not join the farewell. Without a word, he gathered his things and slipped quietly out of the room. His footsteps echoed down the empty hall as he made his way to the bus stop.
The yellow school bus waited outside, its engine humming softly. Lian climbed aboard and took a seat by the window, watching the familiar streets blur past as the bus made its way toward the edge of town.
Not long after, the bus stopped near a small neighborhood hugging the coastline. Lian stepped off and walked the short distance to his home.
The house was modest—two stories, with white siding weathered slightly by salt air. Above the second floor, a large window stretched across the wall, framing an endless view of the ocean. The afternoon sun sparkled on the waves, and gulls drifted lazily overhead.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of sea salt and old wood. Lian kicked off his shoes by the door and called out, "Mom?"
His mother, Lillia, stood silently in the kitchen. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly, and her expression was cool, unreadable. She gave a small nod in response but said nothing.
"Hey," Lian said again, stepping closer.
Lillia's eyes flicked briefly to him, then turned away. Without another word, she moved toward the staircase and disappeared up to the second floor.
Curious, Lian followed.
At the top of the stairs, Lillia sit by the massive window, gazing out at the ocean. The waves crashed rhythmically against the rocks below. Her face was calm but distant, as if she were looking at something—or someone—far beyond the horizon.
Lian watched her for a moment, noticing the softness in her eyes, the way she seemed almost mesmerized.
She didn't notice him standing there.
For a moment, the house was filled only with the sound of the sea and the whisper of the wind.
-----
Night had fallen, and the mesmerizing view of the sea was now swallowed by darkness. The gentle crash of waves still reached the house in steady intervals, but the ocean was no longer a shimmering canvas of light — it was now a void, deep and unknowable.
In his room on the first floor, Lian sat cross-legged on his bed, his face lit faintly by the glow of his handheld console. Button clicks filled the quiet, broken occasionally by the digital sounds of explosions and victory jingles. He appeared to be playing "Wuthering Waves", eyes sharp, hands fast.
Then the door creaked open.
He looked up to see his mother standing in the doorway. She didn't say much — she never did — but her voice was calm and gentle.
"It's time to go to bed," she said softly.
Lian blinked, paused his game without a word, and set the console aside. There was something about the way she said it — not forceful, not cold like her usual demeanor during the day. It was peaceful, like a lullaby spoken instead of sung.
He climbed under the blanket, shifting to get comfortable. The light clicked off, and the room was bathed in soft moonlight filtering through the blinds.
"Goodnight, Lian," she said as she stood near the door.
But before she could leave, Lian lifted his head slightly. "Mother, there's something I want to ask."
She stopped. Turned slightly, and replied in the same tender tone, "What is it, sweetie?"
He hesitated, unsure how to phrase it. "Why are you always… looking out the window upstairs? At the ocean, I mean. Every day."
There was a pause. Then—unexpectedly—his mother chuckled. A light, distant sound that felt both warm and strange coming from her. She walked back to his bedside and gently placed a hand on his head, smoothing down his hair.
"You don't have to worry about that," she whispered.
Lian wanted to say more, but her hand stayed there for a second longer, comforting. And just like that, the moment passed.
He nodded faintly and pulled the blanket up to his chin. "Okay."
Lillia turned and stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.
The waves continued outside, steady and calm.
Lian's eyes closed.
Sleep took him quickly.
---
**The Next Morning**
The sky was still a pale blue when Lian woke up. The sun had just started to rise over the horizon, painting streaks of gold across the window. He sat up, stretched his arms, and rubbed his eyes.
It was early — too early for most — but Lian had always been good at getting himself ready.
A new day had come, but the question from the night before still lingered at the back of his mind.
Lian buttoned the last part of his school uniform and ran a hand through his slightly messy hair. His bag was packed, his breakfast eaten, and the morning sun was already pouring through the curtains. As always, he was ready ahead of schedule.
Before leaving, he quietly climbed the stairs.
At the top, sunlight streamed through the large window, casting a warm glow across the wooden floor. His mother stood there as always, still in her white dress, her posture still, her eyes fixed on the sea. The golden light kissed her face, softening her usual cold features and making her look—just for a moment—peaceful and more beautiful.
"I'm heading off to school now," he said gently, his tone casual, as if this was just part of their daily script.
Lillia turned her head slightly, a faint smile breaking her otherwise composed expression. Her voice, smooth and even, carried across the quiet room.
"All right, sweetie. Don't cause trouble. And try to enjoy yourself today, okay?"
He gave a slight nod and turned to head back down.
But halfway down the stairs, he stopped, suddenly remembering something. The breakfast. The toast, the eggs—he hadn't said anything.
He turned around and climbed the stairs again, peeking back into the room.
"Mom," he said, slightly sheepish now. "Thanks for breakfast."
Lillia didn't turn this time. But her voice floated back, light and unexpectedly warm.
"You're welcome, sweetie."
That was enough. Lian smiled to himself and headed out the front door.
The bus ride was uneventful. Streets rolled by. Early morning light danced across the sidewalks. He got off in front of the school and walked through the gates, nodding to the sleepy janitor already sweeping the main steps.
Inside, the school was quiet. Most students hadn't arrived yet.
Lian took the stairs up to the fourth floor, skipping every other step like he always did. When he reached his classroom, he paused for a second at the doorway, enjoying the idea that he might be the first one there.
But he wasn't.
There, in the front row, sat a girl. Her hair was tied in a neat ponytail, her posture straight, and her eyes locked onto a book open in front of her. She hadn't even noticed him come in.
Lian blinked.
"Gwen"
He recognized her, of course—they were in the same class, both twelve years of age, though they'd never really talked before. Not directly.
She was the kind of girl teachers liked: smart, quiet, always early, and often reading something.
He walked to his seat near the window and sat down, glancing at her every now and then.
Eventually, he found the nerve.
"What are you studying?" he asked, half-expecting her to ignore him.
She looked up, calm and composed. "I'm not studying," she replied with a polite tone. "I'm reading a novel. It's science fiction… about the multiverse."
Lian blinked again. "The multi-what?"
She smiled faintly. "Multiverse. Like… different versions of reality. Infinite worlds, all existing at the same time. Some exactly like this one. Some completely different."
"Oh," Lian said. "Sounds… confusing."
Gwen chuckled lightly and closed the book. "It kind of is."
He scratched his cheek, unsure how to follow that, so he shifted the conversation. "So, uh… how do you think the math lesson will go today?"
She tilted her head slightly. "You mean the one Mr. Harrow mentioned last week?"
Lian shrugged. "Yeah. I wasn't really listening."
Gwen laughed, just a little. "I figured."
They kept talking, drifting from quizzes to teachers to how boring the last science class was..
The classroom slowly filled up as more students began to arrive—some yawning, some running in at the last minute with hair unbrushed and bags barely zipped.
Finally, Mr. Harrow walked in, adjusting his tie and looking more flustered than usual.
"Apologies, class," he said, setting his bag down. "Bit of a late start today.
Mr. Harrow stood at the front of the classroom, chalk in hand, explaining quadratic equations in his usual monotone voice. The drone of his lecture echoed off the pale walls, met only by the distant hum of the hallway outside.
Lian was already slouched in his seat, chin buried into his palm, eyes half-lidded. The numbers and formulas on the board blurred together like fog. "How can someone make math feel like a lullaby?" he wondered, yawning inwardly. "No offense, Mr. Harrow, but you really should try caffeine sometime."
Just as he was about to let his thoughts drift back to Gwen's strange book and that wild idea of parallel worlds, a sentence cut through the haze.
"All right, everyone. Before we continue, just a reminder: your math quiz is today. Please clear your desks and prepare."
Lian blinked. "Wait... did he just say quiz? I know there's gonna be a comprehensive lesson, but I wasn't expecting a quiz. "
"What?!" a voice burst out from across the room.
Of course, it was Derek. Lian shifted his gaze lazily toward him. "Here we go again... Chaos Bringer Number One has spoken."
Derek stood up, arms dramatically flailing. "Mr. Harrow, come on, man! You didn't even say it was today!"
"I reminded you last week," Mr. Harrow said while fixing his glasses.
"Yeah, but nobody listens to you when you teach!" said Brandon, Derek'sbestfriend, who was already halfway out of his chair. "Seriously, no offense, but your voice is like white noise. It's like trying to learn math from a sleeping cat."
Lian smirked to himself. "Okay, I'll admit... that one was kind of funny. Still a jerk move, though."
From the back of the room, Zeke cackled and leaned back so far his chair creaked dangerously. "Yo, that's true though! Dude, I didn't even bring a pencil. We should boycott this quiz!"
Boycott? Lian thought, raising an eyebrow. "What is this, math revolution now?"
Tyra, who barely looked up from her phone, gave a sarcastic sigh. "Honestly, just cancel it already. None of us are mentally prepared for your booring quiz. Our mental health is more important, do you understand that mr??! "
"Mental health," she says—right after making TikToks all night, Lian thought. He rolled his eyes but didn't say a word.
Minutes later.
Everyone in the class, including other students, joined the four students to complain about the quiz and the room turned into chaos.
Mr. Harrow looked like he was reaching his limit. He pinched the bridge of his nose and spoke through gritted teeth. "That's enough!! "
But the class was already tipping into chaos. Paper balls flew. Someone made fart noises in the back. Brandon and Derek stood like they were preparing to give a full-on protest speech.
Lian, still in his seat near the window, barely flinched. "Looks like those idiots are starting a riot again. Man... I just wanted a quiet nap before lunch." He let out a quiet sigh and turned his head to the window where the football field stretched in the sun.
Then—Mr. Harrow snapped.
"Enough!" he shouted, slamming the chalk so hard it snapped in half. "I've had it with constant disrespect! Y'all think this is funny? This is a classroom, not a circus!"
The classroom went stone silent, like the air had been sucked out. Even Lian sat up a little straighter. "Whoa. That's a one angry teacher."
But of course, the four weren't finished.
Zeke leaned over and whispered something to Tyra, who stifled a laugh. Derek and Brandon exchanged grins like they had just won a game.
"You four—out. Now. Out of my classroom," Mr. Harrow shouted.
"What if we don't?" Derek challenged.
"What're you gonna do? Call my mom again?"
Brandon said with a chuckle, "you gonna cry about it, Mr. H?"
Lian stared at them, a cold pit forming in his stomach. "Do they ever think before they talk? Or is the brain just decorative?"
Then, from the front row, Gwen stood up.
"Stop it," she said, calm and unafraid. "Just leave, four of you, if y'all not going to learn. You're wasting everyone's time."
Lian's attention snapped fully to her. "She just—wow. She actually called them out. She's very brave for her look."
The four bullies turned slowly toward Gwen.
Zeke smirked. "Look at this nerd trying to be a hero."
"Gwen, right?" Tyra said, her voice sharp like a needle. "Better watch your mouth. Maybe we'll have a little 'talk' after school."
Lian tensed. "Woah!? Did she just threatened her?"
Mr. Harrow stepped in again, his voice like gravel. "Enough. One more word and I'm writing the four of you."
The classroom went into an uncomfortable silence. Mr. Harrow resumed his lesson, trying to pretend nothing had happened. But the damage was done.
Lian sat back in his seat, his body still tense. His eyes flicked to Gwen, who had returned to her desk. "What if they actually do something to her after class? Should I... say something? Tell a teacher? But what if they come after me too?" He clenched his jaw. "Ugh... I hate this."
The bell rang. Chairs screeched. Students rushed out like a released flood. Gwen was among the last to leave, slipping her books quietly into her bag, and went to nearby abandoned area of the schools.
Lian hesitated at his desk. "huh!? Where is she going? Should I follow her? Just to check if she's okay? Or am I overthinking this?"
Five minutes passed.
Then he saw them—the four troublemakers— Derek, Brandon, Zeke, and Tyra, slipping out together, heading down toward the abandoned area where Gwen went.
"heh, looks like she did read the small notes ya threw in her desk, Tyra. Goodjob luring her in"
Derek smirked as they successfully lured Gwen to a remote area of the school.
Lian's stomach turned after overhearing their intention. "What the!? They're really after her! This is bad.."
He grabbed his bag and followed, careful not to let his footsteps echo.
They were heading toward the abandoned area, where Gwen went. This is a old location of the school that was burned down for an unknown reason—and avoided by most students.
Lian ducked behind a wall as they turned a corner.
"What the hell are they planning? And where did Gwen went?!
Then—he heard it.
A sharp scream.
His eyes widened, and adrenaline kicked in.
"Gwen!"
He rushed to the edge of the wall and peered around the corner.
There she was—Gwen, backed against a wall. The four surrounded her like vultures.
Zeke kicked her bag across the floor. "Where's your little book now, genius?"
"Bet she hid it. Probably in the old bathroom," Tyra said coldly. "Don't want us to ruin it, huh?"
Gwen's fists were clenched at her sides, but her face was pale.
"Maybe she needs a lesson in minding her own business," Derek muttered.
Brandon chuckled. "Yeah. Big talker in class, now she's silent."
Lian's heart pounded. His breath caught in his throat.
"Shit! They really cornered her! I have to do something. I can't just watch this happen..."
But he couldn't move.
His legs refused. His body was frozen.
"Come on, Lian. She's alone. And you saw this coming."
Still... he stood behind the wall.
Watching.
Waiting.
And afraid.
-------
Lian crouched behind the corner of the abandoned area, his breath shallow and shaky.
"What should I do? Should I run and get a teacher?" Lian thought, gripping the edge of the wall tightly. "No... what if something happens before I get back? What if it's already too late?"
Just then, a sharp, terrified scream pierced the silence. It was Gwen.
Lian's body moved before his brain caught up. "What the hell?!" he gasped, rushing forward to peek from behind the wall.
His eyes widened.
Tyra had Gwen by the collar, her knuckles white as she held the trembling girl against the wall. Gwen's feet barely touched the floor, her hands clutching Tyra's wrists in desperation.
"Let me go! You're hurting me!" Gwen pleaded, her voice breaking.
"Heh. Good," Tyra sneered, grinning as if she was savoring every second of it. "At least I teach ya a lesson nerd."
Meanwhile, Derek crouched down beside Gwen's bag and tore it open. Books and notebooks spilled out.
"Nothing's more satisfying than makin' a nerd girl cry," Derek said, laughing coldly as he pawed through the mess.
"There's nothing in my bag," Gwen whimpered, her voice barely audible between her sobs.
Tyra grabbed Gwen's cheeks and squeezed them harshly. "Your opponent is right here. Don't get distracted."
"This… This is insane," Lian thought, frozen in place. His fists trembled. "They're not just teasing her... they're trying to break her."
Brandon and Zeke stood by door, arms crossed, keeping lookout with bored expressions.
"Hahaha! This is so fun," Tyra cackled as she slammed Gwen harder into the wall.
"Enough. That's enough!" Lian's fear turned into something else. His heart pounded, not just with anxiety—but with rising anger. He stepped out from his hiding spot.
"Stop it!" he shouted, voice cracking. "Let her go!"
The abandoned area fell silent. All four bullies turned to him, faces twisted in surprise.
Tyra raised an eyebrow, her grip on Gwen loosening slightly. "Huh!? Another nerd tryin' be a hero?"
Lian's legs wobbled, but he stood firm.
One of the lookouts—Brandon—grinned as he recognized him. "oh, so he was there the whole time!? Tsk! I not expecting some new nerd to follow us and show up!"
Zeke added, "This doesn't concern you, buddy. Walk away before you become the next target."
"They're now after me? Great." Lian gulped, but didn't move. "I can't back down now... not when she's like that."
"I said—let her go," he demanded, voice firmer this time.
The bullies looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"This kid's got guts," Derek chuckled. "Alright then, Brandon, Zeke—teach him a lesson."
Lian's breath caught. His feet refused to move, but his heart screamed for him to do something—anything—to protect Gwen. Even if it meant facing them alone
Brandon and Zeke took a step forward, their shadows looming larger with each movement. Lian's legs trembled. His fists were clenched tight, though he didn't even realize it.
"Lian! You have to run, they're going to hurt you too!" Gwen's voice cried out from where she was still pinned to the wall by Tyra.
But Lian didn't budge. His voice was hoarse, but steady. "No! I won't leave you alone!"
Gwen's eyes widened. He's… staying? For me?The boy who had barely spoken a word to her before today—the sleepy kid in class—was now putting himself in danger.
"They're coming," Lian thought, his breath catching in his throat. "Crap… I don't know how to fight… but I can't just watch this."
But before he could even react, Brandon lunged at him and caught both of Lian's arms, locking them in a tight grip. Lian squirmed, but it was no use—Brandon was bigger and stronger.
"Shit! I—I can't move!" Lian panicked, his heart slamming in his chest.
"L-Let g—" he tried to shout, but his sentence was cut short by a vicious punch to his gut from Zeke. The air flew out of his lungs.
"Nggh!" he gasped, the pain sending shockwaves through his stomach.
Punch after punch rained down. Zeke hit him again. And again. Lian's legs went limp, his body slumped in Brandon's hold, each blow blurring his vision.
"No! Let him go! I'm the one who's at fault! " Gwen sobbed, struggling as Tyra kept her against the wall.
"Heh. That's what happens when a loser tries to play hero," Tyra spat, twisting Gwen's wrist with a cruel smirk.
"Crap, I'm blacking out!" Lian thought in between fading pulses of consciousness. "Why did I even bother…? Helping this girl… was this worth i-"
Zeke drew his arm back for another blow—when suddenly—
**Heavy, fast footsteps.**
Everyone froze.
Derek's head snapped toward the door "What the—?! Someone's coming!"
Brandon's arms released Lian instantly, letting his body slump to the floor.
"Shit! We gotta go!" Tyra hissed, yanking her hand off Gwen.
"You're lucky someone showed up. Let's meet again next time." she sneered, before sprinting off toward the old emergency exit with the others.
Just like that, the old abandoned area fell silent again. Only the distant echoes of hurried footsteps remained.
Gwen collapsed to the floor, coughing, her knees weak beneath her. Her fingers still trembled from where Tyra had twisted them. But then she looked over—
Lian lay motionless on the cold floor, face bruised and chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
"L-Lian…?" she whispered, panic gripping her chest.
"No!? Lian, please wake up!" she cried, crawling over to him. She shook his shoulders gently, then harder. "Don't do this! Please wake up!"
She tried to lift him, to drag him somehow—anything—but his weight was too much. She didn't have the strength.
"That's right… Those footsteps… Someone's here," Gwen remembered. Her head snapped toward the direction the sound had come from.
Her eyes widened.
From the old door entered a tall woman in a white dress. Her black hair framed a stoic face. She walked with grace—but something about her presence made the air feel heavier.
No shoes. Just bare feet.
Gwen blinked. "A teacher…?"
No—something felt… different.
The woman's voice was calm, unshaken. "Looks like Lian has lost consciousness."
Gwen looked up, confused. "Huh?! Do you… know him, Miss?"
"Please, help me take him to the nurse's office!" Gwen begged.
The woman's eyes drifted to Lian, her gaze unreadable. "They really beat him up badly," she murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I told him not to get involved…"
Gwen's voice trembled. "Do you… know Lian? He's in bad shap—"
"I know," the woman interrupted softly. "He's my son."
Gwen's heart nearly stopped.
"Y-You're… his mom?" she stammered. This elegant, eerie, commanding woman—was Lian's mother? "I-I'm sorry! This is all my fault!" she bowed her head, shame gripping her like a vice.
Lillia—Lian's mother—lowered her gaze to Gwen. "I saw everything," she said coolly.
Then her tone shifted, colder. "Leave us alone now before I say something I'll regret."
Gwen gulped. "I—I'm sorry…" she whispered, rising shakily to her feet. One last glance at Lian, then she turned and walked away, tears still lingering in her eyes.
As Gwen's footsteps faded, Lillia slowly knelt beside her son.
She gently brushed his hair from his face, her expression still unreadable.
"You really are your father's child," she whispered. "Always rushing in headfirst… even when you're not ready."
She stayed by his side, the sun outside now beginning to dim—its last golden rays casting shadows through the windows of the old hallway.
Once Lillia was certain that Gwen had finally left and the abandoned area was empty, her eyes narrowed. She glanced around one last time, then gently lifted her unconscious son into her arms.
"Here should be safe," she muttered under her breath, moving briskly toward the disused restroom near the far end of the abandoned area.
The restroom had long been abandoned—cracked tiles, no running water, and flickering lights overhead. But to Lillia, it was perfect.
Reaching into the hidden inner pocket of her flowing white dress, she raised something strange: a gun.
It wasn't like a conventional gun. It had a short, rounded barrel with a scissor-like split at the muzzle, and between those metal jaws pulsed a small, white beam—vibrating at high frequency. A transparent canister of swirling, glowing liquid sat in the center of the gun's body, humming softly, casting a faint pale glow on Lian's bruised face.
She aimed at the tiled wall and pulled the trigger.
With a burst of light and a resonant hum, a circular portal formed!
Its white glow illuminating the entire restroom. The center showed nothing but blinding radiance, a veil between dimensions.
Without hesitation, Lillia stepped through, carrying Lian close to her chest.
In a blink of an eye, they were teleported—in the kitchen of their home.
The transition was seamless, instantaneous—as though she had simply taken a step into their kitchen room. She set Lian gently on the nearby couch, then pressed a hidden switch on the side of the weapon. The portal behind her fizzled out, vanishing in silence.
Lillia looked at her unconscious son for a moment. Her eyes softened.
But there was no time to lose.
Grabbing a black hoodie, she immediately calibrated the settings of the gun, then fired once more—this time, with only few step, she traveled to *Earth-662* —a highly advanced, futuristic dimension where towering cities float above the clouds, and was known across the multiverse to have varied medicine capable of healing any injury, by the use of their advance nano-technology— specialized by artificial intelligence.
Due to its reputation across the cosmos, Lillia believed this was the perfect dimension for to visit for emergencies.
Moments later, Earth-662 restroom shimmered. Sleek glass fixtures. Neon-blue lights under the mirrors. The city outside buzzed with advanced AI acting as a security and guarding towered skyscrapers that reach the clouds.
She pulled her hood tighter. So no one could see her.
She was here for one thing only: the **biocellular regeneration serum**, capable of restoring physical damage in mere seconds—so potent, it was banned from several multiversal trade routes; Because it is often used as a weapon when it comes to universal war.
She made her transaction in silence,
disappearing before any artificial intelligence could even detect that she's carrying a dangerous multiversal weapon.
After she was back in the Earth-662 restroom. She opened a portal once more—and she vanished through it, returning to her original dimension (Earth-1029)
Back on Earth-1029, she carefully administered the serum to Lian. It soaked into his skin like water into sand. The swelling faded. The bruises evaporated. His breathing steadied.
She sat beside him in silence.
---
15 hours later.
Lian's eyelids fluttered open. The soft texture of his bed greeted him. Cool air drifted in through the open window. He sat up with a groggy groan.
"…Huh?"
He looked around, heart racing.
*"Why am I in my room?"* he thought, rubbing his head. His memories came rushing back—the screaming, the fists, Gwen's voice crying out.
"Gwen…"
He stood abruptly.
"Did someone save us…? What happened to her?" he panicked, rushing toward the door.
But as he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped.
There she was.
His mother.
Sitting at the massive window that overlooked the sea, her silhouette framed by the setting sun. Waves sparkled in the distance, far but still visible from the cliffside home.
"She's… back in the same spot," Lian thought. "Just like she always is."
He hesitated. She hadn't turned around. He swallowed hard.
"If I'm back home, then she definitely knows I got into trouble… Oh crap, how do I explain this?"
But despite his fear, he couldn't stop himself from speaking.
"Mother… what happened to Gwen?"
No answer.
He lowered his head. "I… I don't remember much after I passed out. But I'm sorry. I got into a fight, and… I was stupid. I risked my life, even though you told me to be careful after Dad…" His voice cracked. "…after Dad passed away."
A tear fell, hitting the floor with a tiny splash. "I'm sorry, Mom. I swear, I won't be reckless again."
Still, no response.
The silence stung worse than the punches he took.
"…I'm going to bed. I just wanted you to know—"
"Wait."
Her voice was soft. Almost a whisper. Lian froze.
"…Are you alright now?" she asked, still not turning. "Does it still hurt?"
Lian blinked. "Now that you mention it… I guess I feel fine. Maybe Zeke's punches were just weak." He let out a small, nervous laugh, scratching his head.
But her silence made it clear she wasn't in the mood for jokes.
He straightened up. "No, really… I feel okay, Mom. Better than okay."
"I see," she finally said. "Go eat dinner. Then sleep."
Her voice was steady, calm—soothing in a way that immediately eased his guilt.
"…Okay."
He nodded and walked downstairs. The house was quiet. The only sound was the ocean outside and the soft hum of the lights.
After dinner, he crawled into bed. His eyes lingered on the ceiling as exhaustion weighed on him.
*"Please be safe, Gwen. I'll see you tomorrow…"* he whispered.
*END OF CHAPTER 1*