"I'm excited for what's to come."

"So it's finally happening, huh?"

"Our plan, it's finally going through, huh?"

"Ladies," Mia stood up. "Do not give up. From now on, our work will overwhelm us to the point that we won't be able to communicate with each other easily. However, I want you all to know how far we have come. Our entire life has been fighting against the horrors of this world and eventually becoming that horror itself. The world will bend to our will and we will be the sole rulers of Earth. So, use our power wisely."

"Yes, can we all agree that if somebody decides to betray Tolf, we will kill them without hesitation? We will drop our work and do everything in our power to eradicate the traitor," Lucy announced and with those words, everybody nodded with a smile.

After the tense meeting between the Tolf leaders, they all hastily departed to their respective countries, the weight of their decisions heavy on their shoulders. Lucy boarded her designated aircraft, the same one she had arrived on. The atmosphere inside was thick with the lingering scent of blood and exhaustion. Several soldiers, still battered from the battle, sat slumped in their seats. Among them was the Emperor of Japan, visibly worn down and still nursing his injuries. His breathing was steady but labored, the weariness of both body and mind clear in his posture.

As the aircraft soared into the sky, an awkward silence settled over the passengers. Lucy, fully healed by the goddess's intervention, felt the tension gnaw at her. She glanced toward the Emperor, his face marked with lines of fatigue. Breaking the silence, she spoke up, her voice calm yet firm.

"I understand if you're mad at me," she began, "but I hope you know we've achieved our ultimate goal."

The Emperor slowly turned his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'm not mad," he said, his voice soft but genuine. "Just... really tired." He chuckled lightly, though the weariness in his laugh was unmistakable.

The rest of the plane ride continued in uneasy silence, with occasional glances exchanged but no words spoken. The distant hum of the aircraft's engines filled the space, and the awkwardness lingered in the air like a thick fog. Lucy's mind raced, replaying the events of the battle, the goddess's presence, and the devastation they had left behind. Yet, despite everything, the tension between her and the Emperor remained unspoken.

Finally, the aircraft touched down in the Emperor's private yard, nestled behind the grand imperial palace. As the doors opened, a dozen medics rushed forward, their faces a mixture of concern and professionalism. They hurried to the Emperor's side, carefully escorting him from the plane and treating the wounded soldiers who had accompanied them. Stretcher after stretcher was unloaded and the air was filled with the urgent murmur of medical orders.

Lucy, however, remained untouched. The goddess's healing had left her unscathed, her body rejuvenated and her mind sharp. She stepped off the aircraft and strode through the palace grounds with purpose. Her steps echoed through the ornate halls, until finally, she found herself in a quiet wing of the palace. Inside one of the grand study rooms, the Emperor's son was seated, deeply engrossed in whatever he was studying. His focus was so intense that he hadn't noticed her approach.

Without hesitation, Lucy interrupted, her voice cutting through the stillness of the room. Startled, the boy jerked upright, quickly pulling off his headphones as he walked toward her.

"Where is Ada?" Lucy asked, her tone more of a demand than a question.

The boy's face immediately darkened, a frown forming as if her words had struck a nerve. For a moment, resentment flickered in his eyes, but just as quickly, it faded. With a sigh, he relented, his voice weary. "She's in the infirmary," he replied, his gaze lowering. "Helping treat the injured soldiers that returned."

As Lucy walked through the palace, the air felt heavy, almost suffocating. The grand halls that once shimmered with regal splendor now felt desolate and cold. Dim moonlight filtered through the tall windows, casting long, distorted shadows that stretched across the marble floors. Each step she took echoed softly in the stillness, the sound amplifying the eerie emptiness around her. The vibrant life that had once filled this place—the sounds of bustling servants, the distant hum of conversation, and the echo of footsteps—had vanished, leaving only a hollow silence in its wake.

It felt like a different place entirely, yet as Lucy continued to walk, the sense of nostalgia hit her. She had spent countless hours here in the past, her younger self wandering these same corridors with a different purpose, a different mindset. The towering, ornate doors, the intricate tapestries lining the walls, the scent of aged wood and stone—it all tugged at her memory, a haunting reminder of what once was.

But now, the palace felt like a mausoleum. The darkness seemed alive, pressing in around her, thick with an unspoken sadness. Even the grandeur of the towering pillars and the majestic ceiling above, painted with celestial scenes, now appeared muted, as though the palace itself was grieving. It was as if the very essence of the place had been drained, its heart torn away by the war that had ravaged so much of their world.

Yet with every step she took, memories flickered at the edges of her mind. Her past footsteps had traced these very floors, though in a time of less turmoil. There was something bittersweet in the familiarity—something that made her chest tighten.

Lucy finally reached the infirmary, her steps slowing as she approached the door. Inside, the dim light flickered over rows of beds, filled with wounded soldiers. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic, the quiet murmur of healers at work, and the occasional groan of pain. Her eyes were immediately drawn to Ada, who was diligently tending to a man whose right arm was completely gone, reduced to a bloody stump. Ada moved with a quiet grace, her brow furrowed in concentration as she applied salve to his wounds, whispering words of comfort to the man, who winced but remained stoic.

Lucy stayed by the door, watching her daughter with an overwhelming sense of pride swelling in her chest. Ada had grown so much—so strong, so capable. After everything that had happened, Lucy could hardly contain herself. Her heart ached with love, the weight of recent events pressing down on her. She bit her lip, holding back tears as she waited for Ada to finish.

When Ada finally stood up, wiping her hands clean, she turned around—and froze. Their eyes met, and in that instant, Lucy's composure crumbled. Tears began to flow freely down her cheeks as she knelt down, her arms open. Ada hesitated for only a second before rushing forward, throwing herself into Lucy's arms.

Lucy choked back her sobs, holding her daughter tightly as Ada buried her face in her mother's shoulder, crying into her embrace. The world seemed to fall away in that moment—there was no battle, no war, no wounds—just the two of them, together.

After a long while, when Ada's sobs had quieted, they left the infirmary, giving space to the nurses and healers who were working tirelessly to tend to the injured. They made their way to a nearby guest room, where Lucy gently coddled her daughter, her arms wrapped protectively around her. She stroked Ada's hair and softly began to explain everything that had happened—every detail of the battle, the encounter with the goddess, the overwhelming power she had faced, and how she and Mia had barely escaped.

Ada listened intently, her face pressed against Lucy's shoulder, her hands clinging to her mother as if afraid to let go. But Lucy spoke with a calmness she had not felt in ages, just relieved to be there with Ada, holding her close.

Suddenly, the distant rumble of another ship landing in the palace backyard echoed through the quiet, and within minutes, the door to their room crashed open. Mia burst in, her eyes red and swollen from crying. The moment she saw Lucy comforting Ada, her face softened into a smile, tears welling up once more.

Without a word, Mia crossed the room and climbed into bed with them, wrapping her arms around both Lucy and Ada. Ada turned and buried her face in Mia's chest, sobbing once again, her voice trembling as she repeated, "I was so worried about you both... I was so scared I'd lose you both."

Mia kissed the top of Ada's head, her hand gently rubbing her back, as she whispered soothing words. "We're here. We're safe, Ada. You're safe."

Lucy, her arms still holding them both, nodded through her own tears. "We're here, Ada. We're not going anywhere."

The three of them stayed there, curled together in a warm, protective embrace, the weight of their fears and anxieties slowly melting away as they found comfort in one another.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.