“N-no, I have to make something special for you,” she insisted, sounding suddenly energized as she hurried to the fridge and yanked it open.

  “Mommy was really sad and had to go to the hospital a lot because of it,” Lillian said quietly.

  Luke glanced over at Clara.

  “You weren’t supposed to tell your brother that, young lady,” Clara reminded her.

  “I’m sorry…” Luke murmured, the weight of everything he’d put this family through settling even heavier on his shoulders.

  Clara stepped closer and cupped his face in both hands. “I’ve researched so much about those tutorials, Luke. I even bought materials online. I don’t know what happened where you were… but you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

  He would tell her. Maybe not every detail, not the darkest parts. But he would share something, because even though the tutorial had been brutal, he hadn’t faced it empty-handed. Charlie had stood with him in the dungeon, back when Luke had already accepted death just to fight off those prisoners. Allison had helped him survive the ice and stayed by his side through wall after wall of danger, sharing quiet moments and fear and stubborn hope.

  And then there were the others he’d met along the way, faces that kept pushing him forward when he might’ve failed. Angelica, who sheltered him and Allison in Haven and became a pillar when they desperately needed one. More people followed after that, each making the road a little less impossible. He wanted Clara to know that even though he had been gone from them, he hadn’t been entirely alone. Someone, somewhere, had helped him carry the weight.

  ***

  Clara led him through the house, opening a familiar door. His bedroom.

  “It’s almost exactly the way you left it, Luke.”

  The windows were shut, the blinds drawn. His bed sat there with the same old sheets.

  “I didn’t want to change anything after you disappeared,” she murmured, and fresh tears welled in her eyes.

  She wiped them quickly when she noticed him noticing. “The o-only different thing is the tent.”

  He had already spotted it: a small pink tent set up beside his bed.

  “Lillian wanted to stay in here, so we put a little tent up for her,” Clara explained.

  “Why not just let her sleep in my bed?” he asked, genuinely curious.

  Lillian shook her head.

  “I didn’t want to lose my brother’s smell… from the bed,” she whispered.

  “At least now I’ve got a new tent,” he told her with a small smile. “Can I sleep there with you too?”

  “You can,” she answered softly.

  Clara smiled at them, shaky but warm. “I-I need to check the pot on the stove. Go ahead into your room, Luke, but… please don’t disappear again.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her as she went back downstairs.

  He wandered through his room with Lillian still in his arms. Being there again after so long felt surreal. For so long, returning to this room had seemed impossible, and yet here he was. He stepped toward his desk, saw his computer untouched. He moved along the shelves, scanning old knickknacks, framed pictures from when he was small.

  He stopped at one photo and nudged Lillian.

  “Who’s that tiny baby in my arms?” he asked.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “That’s me,” she replied.

  He sat down on the bed, her arms still looped around him.

  “You took care of the family while I was gone?”

  She nodded against his chest.

  Luke reached into the pocket dimension linked to his necklace. For a split second Lillian startled, eyes widening as something appeared in his hand out of nowhere.

  “What was that, brother?” she asked, fascinated.

  “That was magic,” he said, slipping the item back into the pocket dimension.

  “Magic?” she echoed, even more curious.

  He pulled something else out to show her. “Yes, magic. The place I went… ended up making me magical.”

  In his hand rested the wyvern core, the one where Franky’s soul still seemed to hibernate. Luke held it gently, noticing the way Lillian stared at it.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “I’m not completely sure yet,” he admitted, “but inside this is a very old, very dangerous enemy.”

  Lillian giggled.

  “You must be hungry,” he said, brushing her hair. “If I remember right, you loved apples. Well… little pieces of apple, since you couldn’t bite properly.”

  “I have all my teeth now,” she said proudly, pointing at her mouth. “That was when… I was a baby. I’m big now. I’m seven.”

  “You’re still a baby to me,” he teased, placing the core on the bed and reaching again into the pocket dimension.

  “Look what I’ve got. An apple. And this one is special. It’s the best apple I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.”

  [Midnight Red Apple]: A rare, deep-scarlet apple with tender, juicy flesh. Its flavor is sweet with a faint acidic bite, and its fresh aroma sharpens the appetite with the very first bite.

  Luke handed the apple to Lillian. She stared at it, fascinated, since it had appeared out of nowhere. She even lifted it toward his pendant to see if it would vanish again.

  “I want to do the magic too,” she announced.

  “It doesn’t work like that,” Luke told her. “Only I can—”

  He didn’t even finish the sentence before the apple blinked out of existence.

  Lillian’s eyes flew wide. “I did the magic! I actually did it!”

  What? How did she pull that off?

  'I helped a little,' Artemis said. 'The item is soulbound, so only you can manipulate the pocket dimension. But… I can authorize others now. I think it’s because you evolved to rank E.'

  “How do I get the apple out of the necklace?” Lillian asked, staring at the pendant as if sheer willpower might spit it back out.

  She clearly couldn’t retrieve it.

  Luke pulled the apple from the pocket dimension himself and handed it back. “The making-it-appear part is the tricky spell,” he told her.

  Lillian took a bite, her tiny mouth leaving a neat little crescent. After chewing, she blinked at him in surprise and took a much bigger bite.

  “It’s sweet,” she said.

  “Yeah. These apples taste amazing.”

  Just as she went in for another bite, something shattered. The sound was sharp, unmistakable, like breaking glass.

  They both looked at each other. There it was again. Luke turned toward the noise, and saw the source.

  “It broke…” Lillian whispered.

  The core was splitting apart, fragments falling away in brittle cracks.

  Luke’s heart jumped. He tried to press the pieces together with one hand, but more shards crumbled free, the whole thing collapsing until it suddenly disintegrated into dust.

  “Franky’s dead!” Luke blurted, jolting upright.

  Lillian hovered beside him on the bed as he scrambled to gather the pieces. Then, without warning, a faint glow pulsed from within the debris, and a small flame flickered to life.

  Something black shifted among the fragments, stirring.

  “My head is killing me…” a male voice groaned from nowhere.

  Lillian stared at Luke. That wasn’t his voice. But Luke knew exactly whose it was.

  “Franky?” he asked.

  The black shape rolled, unfurling like a curled-up animal waking from sleep. It shook itself off and rose, only it looked nothing like the Franky he knew. Not even close.

  “Human?” Franky muttered, staring right at him. “Hey, where are we? And where’s that human who attacked us?”

  He yawned loudly. “And what is this? Why is there a tiny human mouse-child staring at me? Where are we, human?”

  Luke could only gape at him. Shock wasn’t a strong enough word.

  “Hey… hey, what is this?” Franky yelped as he wobbled sideways.

  He wasn’t a snake anymore. Franky had… changed. A lot. His entire body was jet-black, like polished obsidian. He still had a tail, but now he also had two hind legs, and two forelimbs fused with wings. Sharp little spines dotted parts of his back.

  Franky stared at himself, horrified.

  “What happened to me, human?! I turned into a mouse with wings!”

  Franky… was a baby wyvern.

  “He’s so cute!” Lillian said, absolutely delighted.

  “Cute?! What kind of crap did you do to me, human?!” Franky snapped.

  https://discord.gg/znGSjCxhkR