CHAPTER 441: THE THREAD HAS ENDED

Chapter 441 – The Thread Has Ended

The kid’s voice was clear. No fear. No pain. Just innocent joy.

"You’re that good man! The one with the tie! You bought us food and new beds! And and—Miss Elly cried a lot but she was happy crying!"

Lux smiled, and it hurt.

Not his body.

His heart.

Because hearing that, knowing that, and seeing them here?

It was too much.

Too fucking much.

"What are you doing here, bud?" Lux asked, voice a little tight.

"Oh. We’re going to the light place," the kid said casually. "The nice one."

The little girl beside him nodded. "There’s a garden."

Lux swallowed.

"And Miss Elly?" he asked. "Your caretaker?"

The boy’s smile faded just a little.

"She came with us," he said. "She’s talking to the glowing lady up there. She was sick before but now she’s okay. They said she can wait for us and walk together."

Lux nodded slowly.

"Did it hurt?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"No," the boy said. "I was dreaming. There was smoke, but I wasn’t scared. Then I saw Miss Elly and we were walking."

[System Alert: Breath Pattern Disrupted. Cortisol Rising]

Lux’s fists clenched in the folds of his robe.

A fire. Probably sudden. Fast. No time to escape.

He didn’t need to know the rest.

They died. All of them. The ones he saved.

And they still ended up here.

He looked at the boy again.

Then brushed his hair gently, fingers warm but trembling.

"I’m glad it didn’t hurt."

"You have angel hair now," the kid said, touching the edge of his white robe. "But your smile’s still the same."

Lux laughed once, quiet.

"Hey," the boy whispered, leaning in. "Did you know Miss Elly said she prayed someone would save us?"

Lux froze.

"She said you were the answer," the kid said. "So... thank you."

Lux looked away. Just for a moment.

[System Notice: Emotional Suppression Overriden.]

The white walls felt colder now.

Too clean. Too bright.

He stood slowly.

His hand lingered on the boy’s shoulder. Warm. Grounding. A little shaky.

Lux smiled faintly, though the corners of his mouth didn’t quite hold the shape.

"I’ll need to talk to Miss Elly for a bit," he said gently. "Stay in line, okay? Be good."

The boy nodded fast, grinning up at him. "Okay!"

Lux ruffled his hair once—soft, like a breeze—and turned.

The line of children buzzed behind him like a soft echo. Laughter, soft giggles, the occasional question about gardens or wings. Innocent, even now.

He followed the path to the side chamber, marble glowing underfoot, and spotted her.

Miss Elly.

She was older than he remembered. Maybe not by age, but by expression. Worn eyes, lips pressed together. Her aura shimmered pale gold, but her posture was frail, like she was barely holding herself up through sheer willpower.

She was talking to a staff member—an Upper Realm guide in silver robes with translucent wings that twitched in quiet irritation.

"But there has to be something," Miss Elly insisted, voice cracking. "Please. I know this is the afterlife, I do. But is there a way to... to send them back? Or save just one? They’re just kids—"

The angel shook their head slowly. "Miss Elly, I understand your grief. But if their souls are here, it means their thread has ended. Mortal fate cannot be reversed once processed."

"But—!"

Lux cleared his throat.

Both of them turned.

Miss Elly’s eyes widened. Her hand flew to her mouth.

"...Mr. Vaelthorn?"

He smiled gently, stepping closer. "In the flesh."

She blinked at him. "So that means... you... you died too?"

"No," he replied calmly, adjusting his white robe. "I just have the privileges. Up and down access. Comes with the family perks."

The staff angel glanced at him with a look that could cut steel. Like her halo had just been mildly offended by his entire existence.

Because yes.

Lux Vaelthorn.

Son of Greed.

The only demon regularly allowed in and out of the Upper Realm.

The staff didn’t say anything. But her judgment? Loud enough to slap him.

Miss Elly, for her part, looked torn between shock and something like hope.

"Can you help me?" she whispered.

He tilted his head. "Depends."

Her expression crumpled, hurt and confused.

The staff visibly bristled, lips parting to protest.

Lux gave her a brief smile—the kind that always came before a negotiation.

"Depends on what exactly happened," he clarified. "Tell me everything."

Miss Elly nodded slowly. She drew in a shaking breath.

"It started with the letters," she said. "Three of them. All in the same week. They were typed... no return address. Just threats. Telling us to leave or ’face consequences.’"

Lux listened in silence.

"I reported them. Of course I did. I took them straight to the police."

"And?" he asked.

Her voice cracked. "They laughed. Said it was probably a prank. Or a neighbor upset about the noise."

Lux’s jaw clenched.

She continued. "Then the fire. It started while the kids were asleep. Smoke filled the hallway. It spread too fast. Too fast. I... I got some of them to the stairwell, but the whole second floor—"

She broke off, hands covering her face. Shoulders trembling.

"I should have moved," she whispered. "I should have gotten them out of that building the moment I had the money. You gave us everything and I stayed. I thought we’d be okay. I thought—"

She sobbed, voice cracking down the middle.

"I thought I could protect them."

Lux stood still, arms at his sides, letting her speak. Letting her feel it.

Then he sighed softly. "I see."

He glanced at the staff angel, who looked uneasy now.

Then back to Miss Elly.

"You’re carrying too much blame," he said. "They didn’t die because of you. They died because someone made sure they couldn’t leave. You reported it. You did your part."

"I should’ve—"

"Stop," he said, gently but firmly. "Don’t finish that sentence. You tried. And you loved them. That’s more than most people ever give."