Christian had remained silent since entering the room, his gaze fixed upon Samantha, who lay unconscious on the bed before him. The sight of her in such a state weighed heavily on him, and the presence of Junel, stationed across the room, only added to his unease.
Though Junel had regained consciousness, his continued confinement was now inevitable. He had witnessed far more than he should have, and the consequences of his knowledge were not easily dismissed. There was an unspoken understanding among them—his silence was no longer a matter of choice, but of necessity.
“So, you’re telling me she just popped out of nowhere when you were…” Christian trailed off, his brow furrowing as his gaze locked onto Tomoya. There was skepticism in his voice, a demand for clarity that felt both accusing and desperate.
He needed answers, but the question lingered, hanging between them like a heavy mist. He leaned forward, his posture tense, as though preparing himself for whatever truth—or lie—Tomoya might conjure.
Tomoya hesitated, his eyes flickering toward Takumi, who stood silently to the side, his face an unreadable mask. The weight of Christian’s inquiry bore down on him, pressing like a stone on his chest. What could he say?
How much could he reveal without unraveling the fragile barrier of secrecy they had worked so hard to maintain? The truth was far too dangerous to expose, especially when Kathleen was still oblivious to the portal and the unspeakable horrors it promised to unleash. His hands twitched at his sides, and his mind raced to construct a plausible response.
But Takumi gave no signal, no nod or gesture to guide him. His silence was deafening, a void that screamed louder than any words. Tomoya felt a pang of frustration. Takumi’s stoicism, while typically a source of strength, now felt like a cage, trapping him in indecision.
Still, Tomoya knew better than to speak out of turn. The portal, the barriers they had hastily erected to contain it, and the ominous entities lurking just beyond the veil were not things that could be carelessly discussed. Even a hint of the truth could shatter the fragile equilibrium they were desperately trying to maintain at the moment.
“Well, you know we had plans on summoning Shane back,” Tomoya began hesitantly, his voice laced with unease. Before he could elaborate, Kathleen cut him off with a sharp question.
“But she’s not supposed to be here now, right? That wasn’t the plan?” Her tone carried a mix of confusion and accusation, her piercing gaze fixed on Tomoya.
Tomoya quickly nodded in agreement, almost too eager to affirm her assertion. “Yeah,” he replied curtly, glancing away as if avoiding the weight of her inquiry.
“So, why were we there anyway?” Kathleen pressed further, her frustration barely concealed.
Tomoya anticipated the question, yet the answer eluded him. He was acutely aware of the incomplete truths surrounding their situation and struggled to articulate something coherent. Before he could muster a response, Takumi broke the silence with a deep sigh.
“That portal was bound to open,” Takumi interjected, his voice calm but heavy with implication. His statement startled Tomoya, who hadn’t expected him to step in, though he quickly shrugged it off. Takumi always seemed to know what he was doing, even when others didn’t.
“So, we were there to conceal it,” Takumi continued, turning his attention to Kathleen. She stood rigid beside Samantha, her expression a mix of shock and skepticism. Christian stood at her side, his face clouded with concern, though he remained silent.
“It’s not entirely clear to us either,” Takumi admitted, his gaze shifting toward Junel. “We don’t even know why he was there or how he knew we would be. He won’t tell us.”
Kathleen’s eyes darted toward Junel, her voice faltering. “W-Why’s he still here anyway?”
Junel avoided her gaze, his demeanor distant and brooding. Takumi shrugged with a nonchalance that felt more calculated than genuine. “I need answers, of course,” he said, his tone laced with a subtle menace. “And until he starts talking, he’ll stay here for as long as I see fit.” His words felt more like a veiled threat than a casual statement, but Junel remained unmoved on his bed, his silence impenetrable.
Takumi then turned his attention to Christian, his gaze narrowing slightly. “So, what’s all the fuss about, Christian?” he asked, his voice steady but probing. “I understand the shock of discovering Shane has been summoned, but I can tell there’s more to it than that. What aren't you telling us?”
Christian looked away momentarily. Everyone’s eyes were now on him, waiting for answers that only he seemed to hold.
Christian's voice trembled as he began to speak, his gaze distant as if the memories he was recounting weighed heavily on him. “When I was in a deep sleep, I believe I was stuck in a place where Shane was,” he murmured, his words catching everyone off guard. “I met her, yes. She warned me—to stop all of you from opening such a portal.”
The room fell silent, except for Kathleen’s voice, which broke through the tension, her words stumbling over themselves. “S-So, she’s still alive? Her soul—was it only stuck in the other realm? W-We can still save her?” Her desperation was palpable, overshadowing Christian’s ominous revelation.
Christian sighed deeply, shaking his head as his hands fidgeted with unease. “When we spoke, she mentioned her remaining light,” he explained, his voice cracking. “She used it—to save me from that place.” His lips tightened into a thin line, his expression pained. “Since Samantha disappeared, something strange started happening to me. I started seeing—d-dead people.”
Kathleen’s eyes widened, stunned by his confession. She hadn’t known. She hadn’t been there to notice. She had been so consumed with finding Samantha that she had neglected the changes in Christian. “They tell me things—warnings, predictions—” he paused, his lips trembling as he hesitated to reveal his next words. “Y-Your death,” he said finally, locking eyes with Kathleen. But he quickly shook his head, as if willing the thought away. “That was in the past. It should have happened, but I managed to prevent it—with their help.”
Takumi’s brow furrowed as he asked, “You mean the dead people?” Christian nodded solemnly. Tomoya, unable to contain his curiosity, interjected, “What about Shane? What happened to her?”
Christian fell silent, the weight of Tomoya’s question pulling at his chest. Kathleen nudged his arm gently, urging him to speak. He swallowed hard before replying, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I—I think s-she’s totally gone. The remaining light she spoke of—it was her own life. She’s been fighting all this time, alone, refusing to be consumed by her demon. But now... now that her light is gone, she must have been completely consumed.”
He turned toward Tomoya and Takumi, his tone growing somber. “That’s likely why the o-other realm you’re all talking about—why it returned her body.”
Kathleen, not ready to accept his conclusion, pointed toward Samantha, her voice filled with hope and defiance. “B-But look at her! She’s still breathing! Doesn’t that mean she can still return?” Her words hung in the air, clinging to a fragile hope that refused to fade.
The silence in the room was deafening, pressing down on Kathleen like an invisible weight. She felt her heart sink as the stillness stretched on. Yet, paradoxically, she found herself grateful for it. Any words spoken now would only deepen the ache she already bore, shattering her fragile sense of hope.
Takumi broke the tension, turning to Tomoya with a pointed question. “Is there anything in the grimoire?”
Tomoya hesitated. “I don’t know. I haven’t had the chance to read it in full yet, but I’ll look into it now.” His determination to uncover answers, however slim the chance, shone through.
Kathleen, desperate for clarity, interrupted him as he made to leave. “W-What about the officers who came by earlier?”