I watched Althea for a few seconds before looking away and trying to refocus on the main issue. Still, it was hard to ignore her — she was panting, breathing unevenly, like she’d just run a marathon, and her eyes... her eyes had taken on a strange, almost cartoonish shape, molded like hearts as they stared at me with a disconcerting intensity.

Honestly, I wanted to believe Althea would never do anything... impulsive. But for some unknown reason, even while trying to convince myself otherwise, I couldn’t be fully certain. Anyway, when I turned my gaze back to the little girl’s mother, I saw her eyes were still lost, stunned, and incredulous at what had just happened.

But something else was shining in her eyes — a subtle, almost imperceptible emotion, like a spark trying to resist the darkness. It was so faint that maybe she wasn’t even aware of it herself, but I saw it clearly: a small flicker of hope, shaky but alive, beginning to glow deep within her gaze.

In the next moment, I shifted my attention to Emily and Laura. Both were watching me closely, but with very different expressions. Laura seemed to have a glimmer of hope in her eyes, as if she was expecting a positive outcome or maybe somehow trusted me.

Emily, on the other hand, held an analytical, almost clinical look — full of curiosity and evaluation — as if she was trying to understand every nuance of the situation, or even of me.

Around us, the other visitors were watching from a distance. Although the atmosphere was tense and quiet, faint murmurs echoed here and there — subtle, yet impossible to ignore. The collective attention was entirely on me and Althea.

From what I could tell, their feelings about us were pretty mixed. After Nekra’s intervention, the visitors had started tolerating our presence, but with some reluctance. Still, the fear on their faces was clear — and honestly, I can’t blame them.

Nekra’s show of strength, while helpful, was far from comforting. To be honest, it’s likely they now fear Nekra more than that grotesque face that once terrified us.

Anyway, I didn’t dwell on that thought for long — just a brief flicker. In seconds, my focus returned to what really mattered. My eyes fixed on the woman in front of me — the little girl’s mother. There was something deeply unsettling in her expression: exhaustion, pain... and something more.

Without looking away, I communicated mentally with Althea: (Althea, can you heal her? I think there’s damage to the uterus... it looks harmed)

My words echoed in the quiet room, but no answer came from Althea. I waited a few seconds — maybe she was processing what I said — but the silence remained. Confused, I slowly turned and found her just behind me, motionless, her gaze fixed on my hand. There was something strange about her expression, a mix of unease and contained astonishment. I followed her gaze and saw she was carefully watching the hand I held on the little girl.

As I observed Althea, I heard her murmur — soft enough to sound like it was meant only for herself, but still audible to me: “Who would’ve thought... an opponent who’s already so close to my dear sister... And on top of that...”

She paused briefly, looking away for a moment, cheeks slightly flushed: “I’m jealous. I want to hold your hand too”

In the end, after hearing Althea’s words, all I could do was sigh in resignation. Althea was definitely not a needy person — quite the opposite. Her essence seemed intertwined with life itself and love, as if those feelings were her driving force.

Thinking about it, what she feels for me must be so intense and deep that, honestly, it’s hard to grasp how much she holds back when we’re close. It’s like every gesture, every glance, is a silent effort to hold back a storm of emotions threatening to spill over at any moment.

But honestly, there wasn’t much to be done about that. I mean, even though technically we don’t share blood ties — at least by the rigid “standards” humans usually set — that doesn’t change the fact that our origins come from almost the same source, like we were born from the same cradle.

In other words, it’s not much different than truly considering them my sisters. Plus, there’s an undeniable fact: despite our female appearances, we don’t have a defined sex — at least not in the conventional terms human society imposes. To be more direct, I could say we are both and neither at the same time.

Anyway, I pushed that thought deep into my mind, shoving it aside as I once again focused all my attention on Althea: (I know you heard me the first time, Althea. I sent my thoughts directly to you, clearly and intentionally, and I didn’t notice any interference or resistance from you)

Upon hearing my words, Althea puffed her cheeks, crossing her arms with a protest that felt both childish and playful. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of disdain and teasing, while her little wings, attached just above her tailbone, fluttered softly in tune with her impatience.

Then, in a delicate, almost angelic tone that contrasted with her defiant expression, she spoke, her voice echoing slightly through the room: “You really aren’t fun at all, dear sister. But since I’m doing this, can I expect a reward, right?”

I won’t lie: the moment I heard the word “reward” come out of Althea’s mouth, my thoughts got tangled. They weren’t exactly healthy — actually, it was almost inevitable that something strange would pop into my mind when it came to her.

Althea always had a unique, almost unsettling way of asking for things. Still, I couldn’t deny I owed her a reward. After all, like it or not, she was fulfilling a selfish request of mine, and that deserved acknowledgment.

In the end, still reluctant, I nodded slightly, confirming Althea’s request: “Alright, I’ll give you a reward” I said, trying to sound firm but restrained.

Upon hearing my words, Althea’s face lit up with a radiant smile, brightening her whole face with an almost contagious joy. Her eyes sparkled, reflecting genuine hope. But before the happiness could fully settle, my next words broke the moment: “But I warn you, I won’t fulfill any weird requests, or anything that risks my purity”

Althea puffed her cheeks again in silent protest, but despite her resistance, she moved with delicate grace, floating gently toward the little girl’s mother. The couple’s eyes — both the father’s and mother’s — widened slightly, surprised by the unexpected and almost ethereal approach of the little one.

However, Althea seemed completely indifferent to any reaction. Her tiny body began circling the woman slowly, like a golden breeze dancing softly around a field of flowers at dawn, lighting everything with a warm, almost magical glow.

When she reached the woman’s front again, Althea extended her hand with almost reverent delicacy, placing it gently on her belly — exactly where I had placed mine moments before. From her palm, a warm and intense glow started to radiate, a vibrant golden light pulsing as if it had a life of its own, slowly dancing to the rhythm of an ancient energy.

The flower crown adorning her head shimmered with a subtle gleam, as if each petal caught the surrounding light, while her floating halo trembled slightly, vibrating in harmony with the radiant power emanating from her touch, wrapping the space in a serene and powerful aura.

At the woman’s tailbone, Althea’s golden wings slowly unfolded like petals of light bathed by the first rays of dawn. A warm and peaceful glow radiated from them, filling the space with an aura of deep peace and renewed hope, almost tangible in the air. The golden light softly reflected on the walls, painting delicate shadows that danced silently.

Althea’s eyes, deep and hypnotic like the setting sun itself, fixed intensely on the woman’s belly. There was such a powerful focus, so full of meaning, it seemed to bend time and space, like every beat of her gaze was a silent prayer capable of rewriting destinies and healing old wounds.

The woman’s skin, which before looked tense and pale like a translucent veil, began slowly transforming. Tiny cracks, almost invisible to the naked eye, gently closed as if invisible hands were stitching each fragment, restoring every cell with almost sacred care.

It was like her whole body was breathing relief, the tension gradually giving way to renewed softness. Inside, the damaged uterus — a deep source of pain and anxiety — was carefully rebuilt, tissue by tissue, layer by layer, as if the very essence of life was being restored there.

The entire room seemed to pulse in sync with the gentle rhythm of that healing. The air around became lighter, almost ethereal, like even nature itself was silent in reverence to that display of power. The leaves on the trees swayed softly, whispering a silent chant, while a warm breeze caressed Althea’s face.

She stayed still, like a living statue, her delicate hand resting on the belly. Gradually, the golden glow surrounding her body began to fade, dimming until it slowly dissolved, like a golden twilight giving way to the serenity of night.

In place of the intense light, a radiant calm took over the scene — a palpable peace that seemed to radiate from Althea’s very heart. Her face, once marked by the tension of pain, now expressed relief and serenity.

Her hand, once firm and tense, relaxed completely, resting tenderly on the belly that finally seemed whole and restored. Then, with a shy, almost childlike smile — full of subtle sweetness — Althea began to float away gently, as if defying gravity.

Her delicate wings folded slowly, feathers shining in the soft light emanating from her, while her halo floated above her head, pulsing with a gentle, warm glow, like a silent promise.

In the trail she left behind, an aura of hope seemed to spread through the room, touching the hearts of those watching, as if an invisible miracle had just happened.

In the end, Althea returned to my side, her body gliding softly through the air as if she floated in a silent dance. Her golden hair shimmered in the ambient light, casting a faint glow that seemed to warm the space around.

With a slight smile on her lips and eyes shining with confidence, she declared firmly: “Done!”

That was all Althea said as she came back, her expression calm, almost like nothing had happened. Well, honestly, I expected nothing less from her. For Althea, healing wounds or repairing damaged body parts was as natural as breathing — an act so automatic and instinctive she barely realized she was doing it, like air flowing in and out of the lungs.

The woman remained still for a few moments after Althea moved away, as if still absorbing the strange and gentle sensation pulsing in her belly. Her fingers trembled slightly, hesitating between fear and a timid hope starting to emerge.

Her distant gaze reflected a mix of uncertainty and relief, while her slow, deep breath tried to calm the whirlwind of emotions threatening to explode inside her. With a contained sigh, she brought her trembling hand to her stomach, sliding her palm gently, as if afraid to awaken something long asleep.

Her fingers rested softly on the skin, feeling every contour, every almost imperceptible pulse. Slowly, the stiffness and pain that once consumed her began to dissolve, giving way to a deep, comforting warmth that spread slowly — like a silent and protective embrace wrapping her inside.

Her eyes widened, shining as if they had captured an unexpected inner light. An expression of astonishment mixed with disbelief took over her face, like she couldn’t believe what she was feeling. It was as if, for the first time in a long while, a forgotten flame had been reborn inside her — a life beating, vibrant and whole, strong enough to fill every corner of her being.