Chapter 2 - Return of the Unseen
The ICU lights were cold.
Machines beeped in steady rhythm.
A faint hiss of oxygen.
A long, silent corridor beyond the glass.
Inside — a nurse.
She leaned over the monitor.
Heartbeat stable.
Breathing normal.
She glanced at the newborn.
Tiny fists.
Soft pink eyelids.
"Stable now…" she murmured.
She turned.
Opened the door.
Left.
The door closed.
Now the room was truly empty.
For a few seconds, nothing changed.
Then—
A ripple moved through the air.
So faint the machines could not detect it.
So clear that anything beyond human sight would.
The first aura appeared.
Deep crimson.
Like a living ember.
Its outer waves pulsed like a heartbeat.
It did not descend from the ceiling.
Did not enter through the door.
It simply existed.
Then it moved above the baby.
A pause.
And entered.
The monitor spiked sharply.
A loud beep.
The graph jumped—
Then returned to normal.
The second aura formed.
Mist-like.
Shifting.
Breaking and reforming like drifting fog.
It hovered near the child's head…
Then slipped inside.
The third.
Fluid.
Translucent blue.
It flowed through the air like a descending wave—
And merged within.
The fourth.
Ash-black.
Dense.
Heavy.
It lingered longer than the others.
As if assessing the room.
Then it too dissolved into the child.
The fifth.
Green.
Alive.
Threads of energy extended from it like delicate vines.
It traced a small spiral in the air—
And entered.
All five had returned.
The room was silent.
But no longer empty.
Slowly—
The shadow in the far right corner deepened.
This time, the energy was different.
Golden.
Not bright.
Not blazing.
But steady.
Royal.
Controlled.
The light expanded.
Taking shape.
Tall.
Straight-backed.
A face carved in composed stillness.
His eyes were fixed on the crib.
He stepped forward.
The golden aura remained calm—
Though along its edges lay faint pressure, like the last light before sunset.
He stood beside the crib.
Watching.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor.
He did not move.
The door opened.
The nurse entered.
She walked directly to the crib.
Stopped exactly where he stood.
Her gaze remained on the baby.
She checked the monitor.
Then paused.
Her brows tightened slightly.
As if she felt something.
But saw nothing.
The golden figure did not shift.
Did not retreat.
Did not conceal himself.
The nurse adjusted the blanket.
Touched the baby's finger.
"Calm…"
Then she left.
The door closed.
Silence returned.
Seconds passed.
Then—
The baby's fingers twitched.
Slowly.
His eyelids opened.
Those were no longer the eyes of a newborn.
There was depth in them.
Awareness.
Recognition.
And in that moment—
A deep indigo light rose from his body.
Like midnight ocean dissolving into air.
The energy gathered.
Taking form.
Edges drifting like smoke.
The indigo aura stabilized.
Now two figures stood facing one another.
One golden.
One deep blue.
The machines continued their rhythm.
The world remained unaware.
The golden figure spoke first.
His voice calm. Restrained.
"You have crossed the boundary again."
The blue aura shifted slightly.
"Boundaries are defined by circumstance. I do not accept circumstance."
A brief silence.
"The body is fragile," the golden one said.
"For now," the blue replied evenly.
"It accepts me. That is enough."
Another pause.
"The five have returned."
A faint curve touched the blue aura.
"When do they ever leave?"
"The Devakami remain unaware."
"And by the time they are not," the blue said softly,
"This body will have grown."
The golden figure straightened.
"You understand the bond this body creates?"
This time the blue aura quieted.
"Yes."
He looked down at the newborn form.
"This is no longer merely a vessel."
A still breath.
"I am bound to its life."
A softer note entered his voice.
"To its parents as well."
The air grew heavier.
"And while that bond exists… I cannot take this body to Devakami."
The golden aura did not flicker.
"Then I will remain."
The blue gaze lifted.
"For surveillance?"
"For protection… Arya."
The name settled in the air.
The blue aura regarded him.
"You remain unwavering… Kagenori."
Now both names existed in the room.
Like something the walls would remember.
After a moment—
The deep blue aura began to contract.
Slowly.
Returning to the child.
The baby's eyes softened once more.
Small.
Innocent.
Human.
The room became what it appeared to be—
White.
Quiet.
Ordinary.
But beside the crib—
The golden aura still stood.
Steady.
Watching.
And this time—
He was not leaving.