Her words hung in the air.
"…Like I wasn't waiting for something to go wrong," she repeated softly, almost like she needed to hear it herself.
I looked at her, caught off guard. Lyra wasn't usually the type to speak about feelings so plainly, especially not in front of Arcelia. Yet here she was, shoulders relaxed for the first time in days, eyes soft.
"Then… maybe you're finally starting to relax," I said carefully, testing the waters.
She shook her head. "Not fully. But… closer than before."
Arcelia returned from the perimeter check, her presence immediately filling the room with that quiet confidence she always carried. She crossed the floor and leaned against the counter behind Lyra, watching me with a faint, unreadable smile.
"You slept well?" she asked. The question was casual, but her tone carried something warmer than concern—almost pride.
I shrugged, stretching. "Better than usual." My gaze flicked between them, and a faint grin tugged at my lips. "I think… maybe it's because you two are here."
Lyra froze slightly, her cheek brushing against my chest. Arcelia's hands tightened slightly behind her back, fingers brushing her belt as though restraining herself. The tension in the room wasn't dangerous. Not in a physical sense. But it hummed quietly—like electricity before a storm.
"Not that I mind," I continued. "I mean, don't get the wrong idea—this is… comfortable."
Lyra finally lifted her head and looked at me, eyes wide, a slight blush creeping over her cheeks. "Comfortable?" she whispered.
I leaned down slightly, letting my fingers brush hers as I adjusted my position. "Yeah. Comfortable. Peaceful, even."
Arcelia cleared her throat softly. "Master…" she said, voice steady but low. "It's rare to see you like this. Calm. Present. Not calculating every next move."
I let out a small laugh, glancing at them both. "Yeah… it's nice. Being home changes things. Even the system… can't touch this place properly."
Lyra's lips curved into a tiny, satisfied smile, and she curled a little closer. Arcelia's hand brushed the back of mine briefly, almost as if testing a connection without words.
We stayed like that for a few minutes—three people sharing the couch, the morning light spilling across the floor, the house holding us in its quiet embrace. No systems, no alarms, no shadow assassins. Just us.
Finally, I spoke, breaking the peaceful tension. "So… breakfast?"
Lyra groaned softly. "Yes, I suppose we should eat. But only because it's necessary. Not because I want to leave this couch."
Arcelia chuckled quietly. "You're hopeless."
I reached over, pulling the blanket that had slipped from Lyra's shoulders around her. "Hopelessly comfortable," I corrected. "And that's fine."
Lyra blinked at me, eyes wide, before burying her face slightly against my chest. Arcelia's lips twitched in amusement as she watched the exchange. The three of us—so different in personality, yet somehow… fitting together here, in this unregistered, distant house.
I felt it in that moment: this—this home, this quiet, this warmth—was the only place I could truly feel like myself.
Outside, the wind shifted again.
Far on the horizon, shadows moved silently across the fields.
But inside…
Inside, nothing could reach us.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, I smiled without worry.
Because here, with them, I didn't have to fight.
I just had to be.
And maybe… that was dangerous in its own way.
The Corruption Meter ticked softly. 39%
But it didn't matter.
Not here. Not yet.