Silent Sea

The cold night air bit at the little boy's skin as he clung to his mother's hand, staring out at the empty harbor. The place was silent, eerie. No lights, no people. Just the sound of waves gently crashing against the docks.

"Mother, what are we doing here?" he asked, his voice small, barely above a whisper.

She didn't answer immediately. Her face was blank, drained of color, as though she were staring into something far beyond the sea. The boy's eyes drifted upward, his heart skipping a beat. Her expression—distant, lifeless—frightened him.

The air was thick, oppressive. Even the waves seemed muted.

Then, her voice broke the silence.

"Do you love your father?"

The words hung in the air like a curse.

Her body trembled, her nails digging painfully into his hand. The boy winced, but his eyes never left her face.

"Mother... you're hurting me," he whimpered, tears welling in his eyes. His grip on her hand faltered, but he wasn't pulling away. She needed him, didn't she?

"Say..." she muttered, her voice trembling with a strange, sharp edge.

The boy's breath caught in his throat. His mother's face twisted, her lips curving into a grotesque smile. She knelt, jerking him toward her, eyes wild.

"Say it!" she screamed, shaking him violently. "You want to see your mother with your father, don't you?!"

The boy gasped, heart racing. She looked... terrifying. This wasn't his mother.

"Say it!" she screeched again, her face dangerously close to his.

The boy's breath hitched. He couldn't do it. Couldn't speak. Fear held him still. His tears began to spill.

"You... you wanted us to part!" Her voice cracked. "It's all your fault. Your father left because of you!" She slashed at her own face with her nails, her eyes wide with madness.

"Mother... you're scaring me..." His voice shook, but he gathered all the courage he had and said it again, louder. "You're scaring me!"

For a moment, there was silence. Then, his mother's hand shot out, gripping his neck with bone-crushing force.

"Angh...!" The boy gasped for air, his world spinning as he kicked, his hands desperately clawing at her wrist. He could barely breathe. His vision blurred.

Suddenly, the pressure loosened. The boy didn't understand. He felt himself lift off the ground, weightless, disoriented. The water. He was flying toward it, the dark abyss below him.

"M-Mother—!" He choked, panic flooding him, but her grip was gone. His body slammed into the cold water.

"Glug! Glug!" The boy struggled to keep his head above the waves, his lungs burning. His arms flailed, but the water was relentless, pulling him down, drowning him.

Through the chaos, through the panic, through the water choking his lungs, he heard her voice—cold, indifferent.

"I shouldn't have given you birth..."

Kyros's eyes snapped open. His head throbbed where it had been pressed against Kiaan's, the shared memories still swirling in his mind. The room was dim, only the pale moonlight spilling through the window, casting long shadows across the floor. They sat on the bed, facing each other, the silence hanging thick between them.

Kiaan pulled away first, his eyes opening slowly, calm, unreadable. Kyros's gaze locked onto him, concern flooding his chest.

"I only shared part of it," Kiaan said, his voice distant. He looked down, avoiding Kyros's eyes. "Mother... she couldn't accept that Father left her for another woman. I was the reason. It came out that I wasn't really his son."

Kyros remained silent, absorbing every word, the weight of the past pressing down on them both.

"She loved him so much," Kiaan continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "But even then, she turned on her own son. I don't know anything about my real father. The man who raised me? He's living some peaceful life now, far away in the countryside, with a new wife and kids."

Kyros's heart twisted at the bitterness in Kiaan's tone.

"What happened after you were... rescued?" Kyros asked, voice low.

"Rescued?" Kiaan's gaze hardened. He gave a bitter laugh. "I wasn't rescued. Some fishermen pulled me out of the water, but it didn't end there. I was sold to the Grey Quartz." His body shuddered, a tremor of old pain rippling through him. "That place... it was hell."

Kyros's eyes widened. "Grey Quartz... where Ananya was from?"

Kiaan's expression darkened. "Yeah. That's the one. The former President got me out of there after they shut it down. That was where I met Ananya... both of them—Ananya Nyxdith, the former President. Their natures were like night and day. After Saurav took over... he cut off any connection of me to the current Ananya."

"The Grey Quartz..." Kyros muttered, piecing it together. "It was only found because of you. Because you were the panther splinter. The Hollow led them to you."

"Exactly. Without me, there wouldn't be any Ananya in the Apostle now or the Grey Quartz would still exist if it wasn't for me." Kiaan's gaze locked with Kyros's. "But my mother? She just... vanished. Even the Hollow couldn't find her."

Kyros's mind raced, the pieces clicking into place. "In the interrogation room... she asked for you specifically, didn't she?" He placed a hand gently on Kiaan's head, his expression serious. "I know you need time. But she's appeared again. And she's involved in this eye incident— the one that teleported us to Roula's realm. And in both cases, the target of that eye... was specific."

Kiaan's eyes widened, realization hitting him like a lightning strike. "Thalia?"

Kyros nodded, his face etched with concern. "Yes. But that's not why I'm here. I'm here to make sure you're okay. That sharing your memories helped."

Kiaan stood, his shoulders stiff. "It did. But I need to go back to the Apostle. I have to confront her."

Kyros's eyes narrowed, his voice firm. "Good. But don't run away again like a coward."

***

Is she mute? Kaia wondered, shutting the door behind her. The front of the room wasn't walled—it was just glass panes, the whole building open to the world outside. The woman moved into the center of the room, unzipping her dress at the back. Kaia's gaze followed her every movement, but a shiver crawled up her spine. Something was off.

"You were pretty bold back then," the woman spoke, her voice thick, almost gruff—unnaturally deep for a woman.

Kaia's eyes shot wide as the woman revealed a broad, flat chest beneath the fabric. Her breath caught. No... This wasn't right.

A scar marred the back of the figure's neck.

Suddenly, the figure grinned. Kaia's heart skipped a beat as the man, not a woman, pulled off the mask and tossed it aside and the same for that long hair wig which revealed blonde short boyish hair. His eyes met hers over his shoulder, the grin still stretched across his face.

"That really hurt, no?" he chuckled. "When you hit me with that spear. You're heartless, Kaia."

Kaia froze for a moment, the realization sinking in like a weight. Her blood boiled.

"You—!" Kaia lunged forward, fury igniting in her chest. "You were that puppet! The one who attacked Luv, and the others!"