Pov Author
Anna stood in the void.
There was no ground, yet her feet ached as if she had been standing for a long time. No sky, yet the darkness pressed down on her shoulders until she felt smaller beneath it. The cold wasn't sharp—it was patient. It slid slowly under her skin, into her ribs, into the hollow places she never talked about.
"Shou?" she called.
Her voice vanished. No echo. No answer.
A fear she knew too well crawled up her spine.
"Shou…" Her throat tightened. "Shou! SHOU?!"
Nothing.
The silence here wasn't empty. It watched her.
Her arms wrapped around herself instinctively, the same way they had when she was younger, standing alone in quiet rooms that felt too big. The cold deepened. Somewhere in the distance, water dripped—slow, steady, endless.
Drip.
Drip.
It sounded like time.
"Anna."
The voice came softly, carefully, like it was afraid she might break.
Her heart slammed so hard it hurt.
"Shou?" she whispered, already knowing it wasn't him.
"Anna?"
Her breath stopped.
That voice lived in her bones.
"No," she breathed. "No…"
Her eyes burned instantly, tears rising before she could stop them.
"Dad…?" Her voice cracked. "Dad?!"
She turned toward the sound, her legs moving on their own.
"Dad?" she called, louder now. "Dad, please—Dad!"
Tears spilled down her face unchecked. She wiped them away angrily, like crying might make him disappear.
Then—
Footsteps.
Behind her.
Real. Heavy. Human.
Her body froze.
She turned.
He stood there.
Her father.
Older. Tired. Real.
For a second, she couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. He looked exactly like the man she remembered and nothing like him at all. Time had touched him, but his eyes—
His eyes were the same ones she used to search for at the door.
Her knees gave out.
"Dad…"
She didn't walk.
She ran.
She crashed into him like she was falling off a cliff, arms wrapping around him with desperate force. Her face pressed into his chest and she broke apart, sobbing so hard it hurt to breathe.
"I missed you," she cried. "I missed you so much."
His arms came around her instantly, strong and familiar, holding her like he never wanted to let go.
"My baby," he whispered, his voice shaking. "My Anna…"
She clutched him tighter, terrified this was a dream.
"I waited," she sobbed. "I waited every day. I sat by the door, Dad. Every evening."
Her voice shook violently.
"I used to listen for your footsteps. I memorized the sound of the gate. I thought if I listened hard enough, I'd hear you."
Her fingers twisted in his clothes.
"Sometimes I fell asleep there," she whispered. "On the floor."
He sucked in a sharp breath.
"I saved food for you," she said suddenly, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "I thought maybe you'd come home late. I didn't want you to be hungry."
Her shoulders shook harder.
"No one knows that," she cried. "I never told anyone."
He closed his eyes, holding her like he was the one falling apart now.
"They said you were gone," she continued. "That you weren't coming back. But I didn't believe them."
She pulled back just enough to look at him, her face soaked with tears.
"I believed you were alive," she said. "I still do."
Her voice dropped.
"My life was hell after you left."
The words were quiet. Flat. Honest.
She stepped back slowly, her arms falling to her sides.
"Why didn't you come back?" she asked.
He opened his mouth.
She raised her hand.
"No," she said, shaking. "Don't tell me you were busy. Don't tell me you had reasons."
Her eyes burned.
"Do you know what it feels like," she whispered, "to watch other girls run into their fathers' arms?"
Her breath trembled.
"I used to pretend I didn't care," she said. "I told myself I was strong."
Her voice broke.
"But I cared."
She laughed weakly through tears.
"I kept thinking… maybe if I was better, you would've stayed."
His face shattered.
"Anna—"
"Maybe if I didn't cry so much," she continued, voice rising. "Maybe if I wasn't so difficult. Maybe if I was enough."
Her hands clenched into fists.
"I didn't need you to save the world," she whispered. "I just needed you to stay."
Silence crushed them.
He reached for her, his hands trembling as they cupped her face.
"I never stopped loving you," he said hoarsely. "Never."
She shook her head slowly.
"Love isn't supposed to feel like waiting forever," she said.
He broke then.
Tears slid down his face unchecked.
"I thought leaving would hurt less than staying," he whispered. "I was wrong."
Her chest caved in.
"Why?" she asked, so small now. "Why did you leave me?"
He took a shaking breath.
"Your mother cheated on me."
Her heart dropped.
"With the man you later knew as your stepfather," he continued. "She lied. I confronted her. She denied it. Then she didn't."
Anna stared at him, numb.
"And you just… left?" she whispered.
"I was afraid," he admitted. "Afraid of what was happening. Afraid I couldn't protect you if I stayed."
Her voice was barely there.
"You left anyway."
He nodded, ashamed.
She looked down at her hands.
"I kept the door unlocked," she said quietly. "For years."
He sucked in a breath that sounded like a sob.
She lifted her head again.
"And this place?" she asked. "This world?"
His expression darkened.
"This book was once harmless," he said. "Until *she* touched it."
"Who?" Anna asked.
The void seemed to tense.
"Zara."
The name felt sharp, wrong.
"She is the daughter of the Red Witch and the Dark Lord," he said. "She doesn't destroy worlds with fire. She destroys them by turning hope into pain."
Anna felt the cold deepen.
"She chose this book," he continued, "because watching people break here brings her joy."
A tremor passed through the void.
"And now," he said softly, "you matter to her."
Fear crawled into Anna's chest.
He reached out, brushing her tears away with trembling fingers.
"You were never unloved," he said. "Even when I failed you."
Her lips shook violently.
"Then don't leave," she whispered. "Please."
The darkness around them began to pull apart.
"I don't have much time," he said.
"No," she cried, grabbing his sleeve. "Please—Dad—don't—"
"Remember who you are," his voice echoed. "And remember this—none of this was your fault."
She reached for him.
The void tore them apart.
And Anna was alone again.
To be continued..