Aftermath

Gently shaking Lyra, Marie's uncle tries to wake up Lyra who fell asleep beside Marie. 

With a start, Lyra almost subdues Marie's Uncle but immediately controls herself and, Lyra silently slips out of bed without disturbing Marie and follows Marie's uncle to the kitchen. 

"Sorry to impose," the uncle apologizes as he hands Lyra some warm milk tea. 

"Not a problem at all," Lyra looks at Marie's uncle's grim expression, "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah. The medical staff assured me that I'm healthy as can be. Although, since I went through a traumatic event, they suggest I visit a psychiatrist to make sure my emotional and mental health is sound." He replies with a strained smile. 

"Sorry, you had to go through that," Lyra regrets she couldn't prevent the uncle from getting injured. Biting her lower lip, how come all the strength she had honed up suddenly left her when she needed it the most? Her emotions are getting the better of her. 

"You did nothing wrong, besides it's that damn wild deranged man who should feel remorse! He took Marie and harmed her. Thank goodness she wasn't injured badly." Marie's uncle states as he looks down at his drink. 

"You know, the whole incident felt surreal. Being attacked out of nowhere and how fast things happen." He slowly takes a sip from his drink. The scene replays vividly in his mind. His hands were slightly trembling. 

"..." not knowing what to say Lyra stays quiet and continues to listen to Marie's uncle. 

"I…I never really thought my life would be in danger, nor did I imagine that I'd be in such a scary situation. But, I'm glad I didn't freeze like those in the horror movies," he pauses with a weak laugh then continues, "Still, just thinking about what just happened terrifies me greatly. How can I believe that every day would be a normal day?" still looking down at his drink he weakly states. 

Lyra could only listen because she had no idea what words could comfort him. 

So a heavy silence settles between them.

After a while he asks, "Is she okay?" his voice quieter now. 

Lyra nods, "The medics' treatment of her scratches and bruises is so effective that they disappear after a few minutes."

Lyra explains that she checked for any bruises and scratches when they were taking a bath and found nothing so the Uncle shouldn't worry.

"Marie told me that you were like a superhero when you protected her. But, she also said you'll still be a sloppy cook to her even with all that heroics." Lyra answers with a smile. 

He laughs, a breathless shaky one. "Is that so." 

At that moment the weight of the day lifted just a little. 

Saying goodbye and wishing Marie's uncle a goodnight, Lyra heads back to Madam Cherry's base. 

The streets are quiet, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights as Lyra walks on, her footsteps light against the pavement. The air is cool, the scent of rain lingering from an earlier drizzle, and above her, the night sky stretched vast and endless, speckled with distant stars.

She exhales slowly, watching her breath ghost in the chilly air. It had been a long day.

Looking up she sees the familiar constellations visible in the clear night sky.

Now, alone beneath the vastness of the night sky, her mind wanders, replaying the incident in fragments—the splintered end of a broken branch at the theme park, the sharp intake of her breath, the way her body had moved so slowly. The fugitive's face flashed in her mind, the snarl twisting his lips, the desperate look in his eyes, the way he brutally stabbed Marie's uncle without hesitation. 

Good thing Marie's Uncle was able to protect Marie, but what if...what if Marie's uncle moved way too slow?

She might have watched Marie crumple to the ground, blood blooming across her dress like spilled ink.

She feels her stomach twist with that thought. 

She reaches a quiet intersection, pausing beneath a flickering streetlamp. The silence of the city at night is oddly soothing, a stark contrast to the chaos of the theme park earlier. She closes her eyes briefly, then exhales and forces herself to move forward.

if she only had moved faster and had more presence of mind, a lot calmer, then, maybe just maybe Marie's uncle wouldn't been injured at all.

She let out a soft breath, shaking her head. It was useless to dwell on it now. 

"I have to be more alert and I better train harder," Lyra mutters under her breath, reflecting that even with all her experience and training she still lets her guard down. And that almost costs a life. 

**********

The gravel path crunches softly beneath her shoes as she slows her pace, stopping just far enough from the mansion's towering wrought-iron gates. The glow of the estate's lanterns flickers in the distance, casting long, elegant shadows across the cobblestone driveway. But her attention wasn't on the grand architecture or the manicured hedges swaying in the night breeze.

It is on the sleek, dark hovercar with a flaming phoenix emblem. 

Her eyes narrow slightly. Even in the dim lighting, she recognizes it immediately.

His car. The prince of combat, Edric Solaire. 

She exhales through her nose, her expression unreadable, though a flicker of annoyance stirs beneath the surface. 

Did he really want to confront me that badly? 

The wind tugs lightly at the hem of her unzipped jacket, but she remains still, watching. Waiting.

In front of his esteemed guests, his family, and in front of the elites of the elites in combat, he lost unexpectedly.

The arena event was meant to showcase his strength, skill, and the Solaire family's might. To celebrate the most anticipated coming age of the year, the prince of combat's official debut, the mask competition was probably an event to make him shine and, was stolen by her.

In the end, it was her skill and her strength that won.

Lyra thinks that Edric is here to confront her about what happened at his birthday celebration. After all, Edric Solaire is the most promising rising talent in their generation as her master Melika kept mentioning... 

I bet I hurt his pride a bit when I won unexpectedly and even slipped off from his hold when he grabbed me, after that, sneaking off and disappearing probably ticked him off more...

Lyra sighs. She knows this is coming but she can't help but feel a bit irritated that she has to deal with a troublesome person when all she wants to do right now is rest. 

Well, maybe he's here for a different matter? she muses. 

Finally, the car is out of sight, so Lyra makes her way to the mansion. 

She stops precisely where she knows she needs to at the entrance of the gate. 

A mechanical voice crackles to life overhead.

"Identity verification in progress."

A thin strip of light flickers to life, sweeping over her from head to toe. It is cold and impersonal—scanning the contours of her face, mapping her biometric data, cross-checking every detail against the system's records.

"Identity confirmed: Authorized."

With a soft hiss, the reinforced gates slide open, gears clicking into place as the path beyond is revealed.

Lyra enters the main doors at the left wing, the most obscure entrance at the mansion for an extra measure to avoid the prince of combat. 

But as soon as she enters the mansion,

She barely had time to set her foot down before the first strike came—fast, precise, a blur of movement in the dimly lit hallway.

She ducks.

A hand shot past where her shoulder had been, fingers aiming for a quick grab. But she already is pivoting, using the momentum to sidestep the second attack—an expertly placed sweep meant to trip her the moment she avoids the first.

She twists mid-motion, slipping through the narrow opening between them like a whisper of wind. The twin sisters didn't miss a beat, their movements seamlessly coordinated as they adapted to her evasion. One feinted high, the other low. A classic pincer maneuver.

They are fast. But she is faster.

She shifts her weight at the last second, letting Claire and Theresa's own momentum work against them as she spins out of reach. In a single fluid motion, she catches one wrist, twists just enough to break balance without causing harm, then flips over the other's sweeping kick, landing lightly behind them.

"Really?" Lyra states as she stares at Claire and Theresa. 

Claire shrugs while Theresa is just grinning wildly at Lyra. 

"What?! We just wanted to give you a warm exciting welcome!" Theresa exclaims as she puts her arm on her twin's shoulder. 

"What she means is that we wanted to distract you from your wandering thoughts Lyra. We kind of knew that you were probably feeling a bit down from what happened at the theme park." Claire explains as she shrugs her twin's arm away.

Theresa fakes a pout from Claire's action. Claire completely ignores her twin and gives Lyra a warm smile. 

Lyra smiles seeing the twins' antics.

"In that case, my mind surely is clear now." 

Seeing Lyra's smile, Theresa elbows Claire. Claire frowns but grins. 

Catching the subtle actions of the twins, Lyra with arched eyebrows looks at the twins sensing something amiss. 

Without another word, she darts past them, slipping through the gap before they can react. Their laughter follows her, they give chase. 

I knew it!

Lyra grins while she takes the stairs two at a time, reaching her room in seconds. With a quick flick of the lock behind her, she exhales, rolling her shoulders to shake off the tension.

"Darn it!" Theresa cries. 

"Oh..."Claire states as she sees Lyra's locked door. 

Hearing their response Lyra lets out a chuckle. Hearing the muffled laugh, the twins laugh too. 

"Good night Lyra!"

"Good night Lyra."

The twins bid as they are about to walk away. Lyra opens her door and leans on the door frame, she 

"Good night."

Two sets of arms pull her forward in one swift motion, wrapping her in a warm, unrelenting embrace.

She stiffens at first, caught off guard. The twins weren't always the affectionate type—at least, not in ways that are this direct. They show their care through challenges, through combat, and the sharp push and pull of competition. But this… this is different.

She feels the steady rise and fall of their breathing, the way they each rest a chin lightly against her shoulders, their warmth seeping past her usual defenses. It is… comfortable. Annoyingly so.

"Good night, Lyra," Theresa murmurs.

"Don't stay up till morning. Get some rest," Claire adds.

They linger a moment longer before finally releasing her, stepping back with identical knowing smirks.

"Sleep well," she says, softer this time, before closing the door behind her.