Ansel stood silently in front of Heka's apartment building, his heart pounding with a strange mixture of anticipation and anxiety. Today, unlike any other day, he felt an unshakable sense that something significant was about to unfold.
Just a few steps away from Heka's home, Ansel made a conscious decision: he would follow Heka from a distance, observing without making his presence known.
He wasn't brave enough to approach him directly, not yet. The man who stood before Heka now was not the Ansel that Heka had once known. Time and experience had changed him, hardened him in ways that made him cautious and distant.
More than that, Ansel knew how much Heka trusted him, how deeply Heka believed in him. That belief was a fragile thread, and Ansel feared that any sudden move might snap it.
Heka, for all his recklessness in his soul delivery work, never worried about the safety of his own soul. Yet, paradoxically, he trusted Ansel to keep him safe in ways.
But what Heka believed about was far from the truth.
Before their paths crossed, Heka had been walking a dangerous line, teetering on the edge of peril. Ansel had tried to pull him back, to shield him from the shadows that threatened to consume him.
But with each passing day, Ansel realized that saving Heka completely was an impossible dream.
The darkness was too deep, the wounds too old. The best he could do was to offer fleeting moments of normalcy, brief respites from the torment that plagued Heka's nights.
At least now, Heka could sleep. Not perfectly, but enough to find some peace in the quiet hours. The relentless insomnia that had haunted him for years, the endless nights filled with restless tossing and turning. It had finally loosened its grip.
For Ansel, that small victory was monumental. It was a gift he could give.
As he waited, Ansel pulled out a copy of the Spy X Family comic from his bag. Reading was his refuge, a way to distract himself from the gnawing uncertainty.
Comics were far better than endlessly scrolling through his smartphone, a habit that only deepened his anxiety. The colorful pages and lighthearted story offered a brief escape, a momentary reprieve from the heavy weight of his thoughts.
He watched as Heka entered the apartment building, his figure disappearing behind the door. He had no idea the place where he just headed. He thought bitterly. "It seems Heka is completely unaware of my existence. And there is someone else who hides behind him."
With a sigh, Ansel closed the comic book and slipped on a pair of sunglasses. It was a simple disguise, a small trick to ensure that if their paths crossed, Heka wouldn't recognize him.
30 minutes later, Heka came out of the apartment. He changed into formal clothes.
"Is today the wedding?" Ansel guessed quietly to himself, a cold certainty settling in his chest. He was sure of it.
The visions had come to him again, a vivid, haunting, and stained with blood. Several times before, he had seen glimpses of a marriage drenched in tragedy.
Where joy was shattered by death. Someone would die at the wedding. Yet, strangely, he didn't believe it would happen today. Not this time.
There was a strange comfort in that belief. He was grateful for the change within himself. His human feelings, once raw and overwhelming, had vanished, frozen deep inside like a winter's frost that numbed every nerve.
If he hadn't changed, if he still felt as warm heart as before, he would have surely broken down, tears streaming uncontrollably as he watched the bloody scenes unfold in his mind. But now, he was different. Hardened. Detached.
No longer did the visions make him tremble with fear or sorrow. No matter how tragic the blood marriage was, no matter how many lives were lost or shattered, it would not make him cry.
That part of him that once bled with empathy was gone. Replaced by a cold resolve.
Before Heka began to walk toward the venue, he made a decision. He would walk first. He wanted to move ahead, to be the one who set the pace, so that Heka wouldn't grow suspicious of his presence.
As he drove through the quiet streets, his eyes fell on a photo resting on the dashboard, a photograph of Hansel. The image was a stark reminder of the legacy he was about to step into.
He whispered softly, his voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. "Hansel, this is my first time. I have to do something that you usually do before. I am doubtful if I can do it as well as you. But I will fight for it."
***
Heka's car came to a gentle stop in a park that had been meticulously prepared for a wedding. The air was thick with excitement and joy, the kind that only a celebration of love could bring.
Flowers bloomed in vibrant colors, ribbons fluttered in the breeze, and the soft murmur of happy voices filled the space. The atmosphere was alive with laughter and anticipation, a perfect picture of happiness.
He knew all too well that this joy would be fleeting. The celebration would soon be shattered, replaced by mourning and sorrow. The visions had shown him the truth. This wedding would be stained with blood, a tragedy that no one could escape.
He remained in the car, a silent observer waiting for the right moment. His presence was hidden, yet he was fully aware of everything unfolding around him.
He knew that once Heka realized he was there, he would be welcomed without hesitation. Despite not being invited, Heka's trust and the familiarity his parents had with him meant he was accepted as an uninvited guest.
Yet, he decided it was better to stay away. Especially now, when the bloody wedding was imminent. He was not there as a mere guest or a human being; he was Shenmorta, a living being bound by rules far stricter than those of mortals.