Chapter 6: Home
The city was quiet.
Quieter than it should have been.
Fenrir Endarth walked alone through the empty streets.
The adrenaline from the battle had long since faded.
So had the exhilaration of survival.
The rush of becoming stronger.
The satisfaction of victory.
All of it was gone.
What remained was exhaustion.
Deep, unrelenting exhaustion.
His clothes were torn.
Blood stained his body.
Rainwater dripped from his hair.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
Not because of physical fatigue.
His body had already recovered, thanks to his bloodline.
No.
The weight came from somewhere else.
Something deeper.
His heart.
---
Only a few hours earlier, his greatest concern had been graduating from college.
Finding a job.
Building a future.
Perhaps marrying Luna Hartwell someday.
Now?
He had learned that gods existed.
That monsters existed.
That werewolves existed.
And somehow...
He had become one of the most dangerous beings in existence.
Fenrir let out a quiet laugh.
There was no humor in it.
Only disbelief.
"If someone had told me this yesterday..."
"I would have called them insane."
[Statement Accurate.]
Fenrir rolled his eyes.
Even now, OBLIVION sounded entirely emotionless.
The System did not care about his confusion.
His fear.
His loneliness.
It simply observed.
As it always had.
---
The apartment building eventually came into view.
A modest apartment building located in Westbridge District, one of the quieter residential areas of Silverhaven City, Aetheria.
Nothing remarkable.
Nothing impressive.
And yet, seeing it stirred something painful in his chest.
Because this place represented his old life.
The life he had lost.
The life that no longer existed.
Fenrir stood outside for several seconds.
Silent.
Motionless.
Then he went inside.
---
The hallway lights flickered overhead.
The building manager still had not repaired them.
Fenrir remembered complaining about them months ago.
At the time, it had seemed important.
Now it felt meaningless.
Everything felt meaningless.
He climbed the stairs slowly.
Third floor.
Room 307.
His room.
His home.
The place where he had spent years studying.
Working.
Dreaming.
Living.
His hand slipped into his pocket.
The apartment key was still there.
A small thing.
An ordinary thing.
And yet holding it made his eyes sting.
Because despite everything that had happened...
Some things remained unchanged.
At least for now.
Click.
The door opened.
---
Silence greeted him.
The familiar scent of old books and coffee lingered in the air.
A small couch sat in the living room.
Stacks of textbooks occupied one corner.
A laptop rested on the desk.
Everything looked exactly as he had left it.
Normal.
Painfully normal.
Fenrir stepped inside.
Closed the door.
And leaned against it.
For a long time...
He simply stood there.
Listening.
Nothing.
No werewolves.
No divine conspiracies.
No supernatural threats.
Only silence.
For the first time that night...
He felt safe.
And strangely...
That made everything hurt more.
---
His gaze fell on a framed photograph.
It sat on the bookshelf.
Fenrir froze.
It was an old picture.
Taken six months ago.
He was smiling.
Luna stood beside him.
Both of them looked happy.
Both looked hopeful.
Both looked in love.
At least...
One of them had been.
The pain returned at once.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
Fenrir slowly walked toward the photograph.
His hand trembled slightly.
Not from fear.
Not from anger.
From sadness.
Because despite everything she had done...
He still remembered the good moments.
The late-night conversations.
The shared dreams.
The promises.
The laughter.
The future they had planned together.
Had all of it been fake?
Had she truly never loved him?
The questions haunted him.
Yet deep down...
He already knew the answer.
Perhaps not everything had been a lie.
But it no longer mattered.
The ending was the same.
She had chosen someone else.
And she had done so publicly.
Cruelly.
Without hesitation.
Without regret.
Fenrir stared at the photograph.
Then quietly turned it face down.
Not destroyed.
Not broken.
Just turned away.
A memory.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
---
Eventually, he went into the bathroom.
The mirror reflected his appearance.
Fenrir stopped.
His reflection stopped.
And for several moments...
Neither moved.
The person staring back at him was not the same person who had left the apartment that morning.
The difference was unmistakable.
His features had changed.
Become sharper.
More striking.
His crimson eyes glowed faintly.
Even his presence felt different.
More dangerous.
More intimidating.
More distant.
It was still him.
But not entirely.
"Who are you?"
The question left his lips before he could stop it.
The reflection offered no answer.
Because Fenrir himself did not know.
Was he still human?
A monster?
A God Devourer?
Something else entirely?
The uncertainty frightened him more than any werewolf ever could.
---
He showered.
Changed clothes.
Washed away the blood.
And yet no matter how much water ran over his skin...
The memories remained.
The alley.
The humiliation.
The battle.
The killing.
The devouring.
None of it disappeared.
When he finally collapsed onto his bed, dawn was approaching.
Golden light began to filter through the curtains.
A new day.
The beginning of a new life.
Or perhaps the end of the old one.
Fenrir stared at the ceiling.
Unable to sleep.
His thoughts drifted.
To his adoptive parents.
Edward Endarth.
Maria Endarth.
The people who had raised him.
The people who had loved him.
The people who would have known what to say.
What would they think if they saw him now?
Would they be afraid?
Would they still call him their son?
The thought hurt more than he expected.
A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye.
He wiped it away quickly.
But another followed.
Then another.
For the first time since the betrayal...
Fenrir cried.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just quietly.
Alone.
As he always had.
Mourning the life he had lost.
Mourning the future that would never come.
Mourning the ordinary young man he had once been.
Because deep down...
Fenrir finally understood something.
The boy who had left this apartment yesterday was gone.
He was not coming back.
No amount of wishing would change that.
No amount of denial would alter reality.
Something new had been born in that alley.
Something powerful.
Something terrifying.
Something destined to shake the universe itself.
And yet, in that moment...
As tears silently traced his face...
Fenrir Endarth was not a monster.
Not a God Devourer.
He was simply a lonely young man lying in an empty apartment.
Trying to figure out how to live after losing everything.
And for the first time that night...
OBLIVION remained completely silent.
Allowing him to grieve.
Allowing him to remember.
Allowing him to say goodbye.
To the person he used to be.