CHAPTER 160: ELIUS

The front door clicked open with the soft sound of a key turning, followed by the gentle thud of boots on the wooden floor.

"Mom, we’re home," Keith called out, his voice noticeably lower than usual—quiet, strained.

From the living room, Keisha looked up from her half-finished book. The warm light from a floor lamp bathed her in soft gold, casting calm shadows across her gentle features. She set the book down and stood, wiping her hands on a towel she had folded earlier over her lap.

She walked to the hallway just as Keith rounded the corner, followed closely by Shania. Her eyes scanned them both quickly, and her heart immediately clenched.

Their shoulders sagged with invisible weight. Keith’s usual proud stance had bent, just slightly, like a knight returning from battle—not in victory, but in reflection. Shania’s hair was tied up in a rough bun, her uniform jacket unzipped and wrinkled. There was a subtle tremble in her fingers as she unhooked her gloves, and her lips were pressed in a thin line, as if holding back a flood of thoughts.

"You two look like you’ve fought a war," Keisha said gently, already moving forward to usher them in. "Come. Sit down. You need water. Food?"

Shania offered a weary smile. "Water’s good, thank you."

Keith let himself drop onto the couch with a groan. "We ran into... someone."

Keisha paused, watching the way his hands clasped together. His fingers were pale from the pressure. Something in her mother’s instincts flared.

"Someone?" she asked, pouring water from a glass pitcher. "Who?"

Shania sat beside Keith, exhaling slowly as she looked at the ceiling. "A monster."

Keith nodded slowly. "A real nightmare. I don’t know how he found us so fast. We were already two layers deep inside the simulation dome and he—he was just there."

"He moved like... like he wasn’t walking. Like he didn’t care about rules," Shania added, still staring upwards. "Every time I blinked, he was closer. We couldn’t land a clean hit."

Keith leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I tried using my burst-drive. Full acceleration. Shania layered her fields. Fraven tried to catch him with telekinetic pins. He just..."

"Dodged?" Keisha asked.

"No," Keith muttered, voice lower. "Ignored them. Like they were smoke. One second he was in front of me—then I turned to shield Shania, and his sword was already behind us."

"His sword?" Keisha asked, her tone sharp with concern.

"Floating," Shania said. "Controlled by will. Like it wasn’t even a weapon. Just an extension of his thoughts."

"And the pressure..." Keith rubbed his chest absently. "He didn’t even raise his voice. But when he spoke, it was like gravity shifted around him. I’ve never—never felt something like that."

Shania nodded, eyes distant. "We only got away because he let us."

There was a long silence.

Keisha set down the tray of water in front of them and folded her hands quietly. Her lips pressed together as she examined them—not for wounds, but for the weight they carried. These weren’t the same children who had left earlier today. Something had been stripped from them. Or revealed.

But she didn’t ask more. Not now.

"You two need to rest," she said softly, her tone motherly but firm. "There’s rice in the cooker. I made honey-ginger pork. Keith, your favorite."

Keith blinked like he was waking from a daze. "Thanks, Mom."

Keisha smiled faintly. "Eat first. Then think."

As the two began to stir, rising from the couch and heading toward the dining table, Keith turned back and asked, "What about you, Mom? How was your day?"

She paused, considering her words.

Then, with a soft expression, she said, "I met someone at the bookstore."

Shania raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Keisha chuckled lightly. "Don’t get any ideas, dear. He was just a curious young man."

Keith smirked tiredly, taking his seat. "Curious?"

Keisha nodded as she joined them. "Yes. He came in asking about Colburn’s Twilight Leaves, of all things. I haven’t heard anyone bring up that dusty collection in years. Most young men talk about action thrillers or interdimensional espionage."

Shania smiled. "So, what was he like?"

"Polite," Keisha said, ladling rice into bowls. "Soft-spoken. He didn’t rush conversation, you know? He let the silence breathe. There was something... thoughtful about him. Not just in the words he said, but in the way he listened. Like he wasn’t just hearing answers—he was searching for something in them."

Keith picked at his food. "Sounds intense."

"Not in a bad way," Keisha continued. "Just... quiet. Like his world is very loud, and he comes to the bookstore to find a moment of stillness."

Shania sipped water quietly. "What else?"

"He asked about books that understood grief without wallowing in it," Keisha said. "He said he wanted something subtle. I recommended Light Through the Hollow. He bought it, too. Paid in cash. I think he meant to disappear quietly after."

"Did he?" Keith asked absently.

Keisha smiled softly, looking down at her plate. "He said goodbye. Politely. There was no need for more."

Shania leaned back, curious. "What was his name?"

"I didn’t ask," Keisha replied. "But when he paid, I saw the name printed on a receipt stub."

Keith, chewing slowly, asked between bites, "And?"

Keisha looked at him.

Then smiled faintly.

"He said his name was Elius."

The room fell into a fragile silence.

Keith’s chopsticks stopped halfway to his mouth. His hand froze like it was freezed forcefully. Shania blinked once, twice, as if trying to place the name, trying to draw a line in her memory.

But neither of them spoke.

Keisha tilted her head slightly, confused by their reaction.

"I mentioned earlier," she added casually, "he looked a little like you, Keith."

Keith swallowed slowly.

But said nothing.

The only sound now was the hum of the refrigerator and the quiet clinking of cutlery against ceramic.

And in that silence, Keisha’s words lingered in the air like the turning of an unseen page.