CHAPTER 138: KIRA IS HERE!

The heavy oak doors groaned as they swung inward, their hinges protesting like the voice of the house itself disturbed from slumber. A draft of cool air slipped into the hall, brushing against the flickering lamplight and scattering the faint warmth that had gathered there.

Sian did not move at once. His hand still rested on Lan Qisheng’s shoulder, fingers grazing fabric that had been tugged in closeness only moments ago. Yet he was no fool. He knew when to stop, when intimacy became recklessness. Calmly, without the slightest rush, he slid from Lan’s lap and straightened his posture, as though nothing improper had occurred.

Lan’s face, however, betrayed him. A fierce blush crept up his ears and burned across his cheekbones. For a man who commanded troops, who had stood unflinching on blood-soaked battlefields, being caught in something as human as tenderness was a humiliation he scarcely knew how to mask. He coughed lightly, as though the sound might erase the scene.

Sian smirked faintly at the contrast. It amused him—the great colonel, undone not by war or death, but by a simple embrace.

But the moment of private amusement vanished as his gaze fell upon the newcomers entering the hall. He did not soften, nor did he attempt courtesy. His eyes sharpened, cool and appraising, dissecting the pair who accompanied the man from before.

The first impression was clear: they were husband and wife. That bond was evident in the subtle tether of their clasped hands, the instinctive way their steps fell into rhythm with one another. The man, still youthful in his prime, bore short black hair combed with precision, a countenance plain yet dignified, sharpened by a wary hardness in his eyes. The woman at his side carried herself like a figure accustomed to refined circles—hair pinned into a modest bun, her attire simple yet elegant, her every movement veiled with restraint. And yet, her eyes flickered—quick, anxious, shadowed by fear that could not be hidden beneath grace.

They did not falter at the remnants of intimacy they had intruded upon. Instead, they walked steadily into the center of the hall, the man hesitating only until the woman urged him forward with the faintest push of her hand. He extended his own toward Sian, though his jaw tightened as if the gesture itself cost him effort.

"Welcome," the man said, voice deliberate. "My name is Liang Wei, and this is my wife, Mei Lin."

Sian’s first instinct was to ignore them entirely. Names and pleasantries meant little to him, especially from strangers who carried the airs of politics and pedigree. But then Mei Lin spoke, and the words that left her lips shifted everything.

"We are Kira’s parents," she said softly. "Our daughter is changing her clothes. She will be down in a few minutes."

It was as if starlight itself had been poured into Sian’s eyes. For a heartbeat, he seemed carved from brilliance, his gaze alight with something no one there had ever seen before—wonder, recognition, and a fierce anticipation too deep to name. His hand, previously idle, lifted at last and closed firmly around Liang Wei’s.

For once, Sian had no words. The man who so often mocked, commanded, or dismissed others with a blade of wit found his tongue struck useless.

Liang Wei’s voice cut into that silence, steady, sharp as steel. "If you are truly the one our daughter speaks of, then we must talk. Before she comes down, there are matters I must share—questions I must demand answers to."

Sian inclined his head slightly and took his seat, as if accepting a challenge unspoken. The others followed, the hall settling into a tension that pressed upon every breath.

The silence stretched, broken only by the faint crackle of a nearby lantern. Then Liang Wei began.

"First, allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Liang Wei, one of this nation’s ministers. You will not see my name plastered in headlines, nor will you find me paraded across the news. My work lies in shadows, away from the eyes of the public. Now..." He paused, drawing in a deep breath. "What I am about to tell you may sound unscientific, absurd even. Perhaps you will call it fantasy. But I ask that you hear it in full, without interruption."

His wife, Mei Lin, leaned slightly toward him, offering a fleeting smile of reassurance. It lent him courage enough to continue.

"Years ago, I had a daughter. She was young... too young. One day, she fell into the water. By the time we pulled her out, her breath was gone, her eyes shut. She sank into a coma, silent and unmoving. For years she lay there, a body without life, a child lost in endless sleep. We prayed, despaired, and yet... two years ago, she woke."

He faltered. His voice cracked. "But she was not the same child who had fallen asleep. She admitted it herself. She told us plainly: she was not our daughter. Not truly. She confessed she was not of this world at all."

Lan Qisheng shifted uncomfortably, but Sian’s expression only sharpened. His eyes, dark and cutting, drilled into Liang Wei as though he could strip the truth from him without words. Yet he stayed silent.

Liang Wei pressed on, though each word seemed to weigh upon him.

"Not long after her awakening, assassins came for me. Not ordinary men. They wielded powers—unearthly, inexplicable. They sought secrets, information I guarded closely. But it was not I who ended them." He swallowed, his hand tightening around his wife’s. "It was my daughter. She slaughtered them all. In that moment, we realized she possessed strength beyond comprehension."

The minister leaned forward, voice low and grave. "The government took her into their agency for supernatural abilities. With her power, we prevented many disasters. And yet... no matter how much she fought, events began to spiral beyond our grasp. She spoke of a prophecy—one that has haunted us since. She said the end draws near. That mankind cannot escape what is to come."

Liang Wei’s gaze locked onto Sian, weighted with desperate conviction. "Unless, she said, you appeared. She foresaw your arrival, naming you the only one capable of halting the world’s ruin. The one who could avert the extinction of all humankind."

Sian’s chest tightened, though not for the reasons Liang Wei believed. Salvation? Extinction? Humanity’s fate? Such things were dust in his hands. Even if the skies split apart and the seas boiled, his concern would never be for the masses. He was no savior, no father to creation. If the world burned, he would save only those few tethered to his soul—and the rest could perish without his care.

No—the words that struck his core, that made his spirit tremble, were not about humanity. They were about her. The girl. The prophecy.

Any lingering doubts about Kira’s true identity dissolved into certainty.

Liang Wei parted his lips to speak further, but the doors of the hall thundered open before another word could pass.

A blur cut through the entrance, swift as lightning, a streak of crimson and laughter heading straight for Sian.

He did not flinch. His lips broke into a rare smile, and in one smooth motion, he rose and opened his arms.

The girl flew into them with the force of a storm, her crimson dress flaring like a flame as she landed against his chest. He caught her effortlessly, spinning her twice in the air as though she weighed no more than air, before holding her close.

Gasps rippled across the hall. Lan Qisheng sat stunned, while Liang Wei and Mei Lin froze in shock.

For they knew her. They knew the daughter who had awakened in their home, who fought with cold vigilance, who had distanced herself from them with silence and guarded walls. That girl had never laughed. She had never bounded with joy. And yet here she was—smiling, radiant, brimming with the delight of a seventeen-year-old youth.

"Didn’t I tell you not to eat so much? You’ll turn into a wild boar!" Sian teased, voice rich with mockery. "Look—my waist is about to snap beneath your weight. Down, piglet, before I break in half!"

"What?!" Her voice rang out, bright, indignant, yet filled with laughter.

"How dare you, leader! How could you call a beauty like me a pig? Don’t you know how to speak like a proper human being? Honestly! And I’m not even that heavy. If your waist is weak, that’s your problem, not mine! Don’t you dare blame me, you pathetic leader!"

She stuck her tongue out at him as he set her down. Sian only chuckled and flicked her forehead with a finger, leaving her scowling and rubbing the spot.

Then her eyes widened, excitement bubbling over. She seized his hand. "leader! My dear leader! Did you bring the strawberry cake? Where is it?"

He shook her hand off and tapped her forehead again, harder this time, leaving a faint pink mark.

"Piglet wasn’t enough? You still want sweets? What now—aiming to become a mammoth?" he scoffed, though his lips twitched with amusement.

Still, he reached for the cake placed on the table and handed it to her.

The room remained silent, no one daring to intrude upon their reunion. Yet within that silence, hearts stirred with emotions they could not name. Awe. Confusion. Perhaps even envy.

For in that moment, Kira had noticed to no one else—neither to her parents, nor to the government. She saw only he leader.

And beneath the surface of that laughter, beneath the teasing and joy, shadows lingered—prophecy, destiny, and a storm none could yet imagine.