A familiar feminine voice spoke from behind.


    Lucien halted, his lips pressing together as his eyes flicked to the side.


    Bathed in the moon''s silver glow stood Elise. She wore a simple wool dress in earthy brown, the soft light accentuating her delicate features—a small, slightly upturned nose, naturally rosy lips, and large, warm brown eyes filled with quiet gentleness. Her blonde hair, freed from its usual style, hung in a loose braid, stray strands curling at the ends.


    She narrowed her eyes.


    "Wait… who are you? And where are you going this late at night?"


    Elise stepped forward, her brows knitting. She blinked rapidly, as if second-guessing her sight. Then, her gaze swept over him—his face, his posture—the familiar yet impossible presence before her.


    Her lips parted. Her voice was barely above a whisper.


    "Master Lucien?"


    Lucien turned fully to face her, his expression unreadable, his voice quiet but firm.


    "You shouldn''t be out here at this hour, Elise."


    She studied him, eyes searching his face as if to confirm he was real. "It''s really you…" She took another step.


    But Lucien lifted a hand, stopping her in place. Shadows draped across his face, obscuring his expression.


    Elise hesitated. Her gaze flickered between his eyes and the darkness beyond him.


    "…Where are you going?"


    Lucien watched her for a long moment before tilting his head slightly. His tone was calm, almost curious.


    In the past, I left without meeting Elise. I often wondered what her reaction would be.


    "And if I told you I was leaving again… what would you do?"


    Elise flinched. Hesitation flickered across her face. But as silence stretched between them, something in her expression shifted.


    Her fingers tightened at her sides. "...You''re leaving?"


    It wasn''t a question. The words hung between them—fragile, heavy—as if voicing them made the truth settle deeper.


    Lucien didn''t answer. He only watched her, unreadable.


    Elise swallowed. Her lips parted, but the words wouldn''t come at first. She shifted her weight, glancing toward the mansion behind her.


    Then, finally—


    "Why?—…" Her voice barely carried between them.


    Lucien remained still.


    A breath. Then another. And then, her eyes widened slightly. Realization dawned.


    "…Is this the decision you were talking about?"


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Lucien gave a small nod. "Yeah. It was about leaving the Warren family."


    Elise''s brows drew together. "…But all of a sudden?"


    Her voice wasn''t accusatory, but something sharp edged into it—confusion, unease.


    Lucien shook his head. "It''s not sudden, Elise. I''ve been thinking about this for a long time."


    Sorry for lying, he thought.


    His voice was steady, calm. But behind it, there was weight—one that hadn''t been there before.


    "Lucien..." Her voice wavered, but she held his gaze. "You don''t have to do this. I''m here for you—I''ll always be here."


    Lucien''s shook his head. "It''s not about that."


    "Then what is it about?" she pressed. "Running? Cutting ties?"


    His expression remained unreadable. "I made my decision. Nothing changes that."


    Elise''s brows drew together, frustration flickering in her eyes. "You always do this…" she murmured. "You push people away before they get too close. Even when you needed someone the most, you never let me in."


    Lucien exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. " I don''t know about that, Elise but I have to go."


    "Why do you have to go?" Elise whispered.


    Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. The distant hum of the wind outside was the only sound between them, yet neither moved.


    Lucien glanced away, his voice quieter this time. "That... I can''t tell you."


    I can''t tell her. I''ve already died once and come back. I have to prevent the apocalypse.


    A chill passed over Elise''s features. The warmth in her eyes dimmed, replaced by something darker—something sharp, unreadable.


    "Why can''t you?" Elise''s voice cut through the silence, raw and trembling. "Am I not trustworthy? Am I nothing to you, Lucien?"


    Her words lingered, ringing in the stillness, sharp against the distant buzz of crickets. The night pressed in around them, thick and unrelenting, but Lucien said nothing.


    She bowed her head, her shoulders trembling, her voice cracking slightly. "Why... do you... have to go?"


    Lucien felt a sting in his chest, a dull ache that settled deep, but he didn''t answer. He couldn''t. Instead, he stepped forward, hesitating before gently patting her back—an awkward, fleeting gesture that did nothing to bridge the growing distance between them.


    The silence between them deepened, stretching long and heavy, no longer just empty—but irreversible. The air felt colder, as if something unspoken had been decided in that moment, something they couldn''t take back.


    Elise didn''t move, didn''t react. The silence between them stretched, heavy and suffocating. When she finally lifted her head, her eyes were unreadable, shadowed by something Lucien couldn''t quite place.


    Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "Then take me with you."


    Lucien''s breath caught. He hadn''t expected that. For a moment, he just stared at her, searching her expression for hesitation, doubt—anything that would tell him she wasn''t serious. But there was nothing. Only quiet determination beneath the pain.


    His fingers twitched at his sides. "Elise..." he started, but the words tangled in his throat.


    She took a step closer. "Wherever you''re going, whatever you''re running from, I don''t care. Just don''t leave me behind."


    The night air was thick, the distant buzz of crickets the only sound between them. Lucien swallowed hard, his chest tightening.


    "You don''t understand," he finally murmured.


    Her eyes darkened. "Then make me understand."


    She took Lucien''s hands in hers, her warmth seeping into his skin—a quiet contrast to the biting cold of the night. For a moment, it was just that—a silent exchange of warmth.


    He slightly shook off the warmth, as if deciding to go on his journey alone, one filled with cold. He spoke, his eyes staring deep into hers. "But what about your parents? What about Aunt Emma? What will they think if you leave so suddenly? Wouldn''t they be heartbroken?"


    Lucien''s heart ached, each beat heavy with the weight of her sorrow. Her trembling voice, her tear-streaked face—every part of him wanted to stay, to ease her pain. But he couldn''t.


    He exhaled, the cold air burning his lungs as he gently pulled his hands away. "I have to go," he whispered, more to himself than to her.


    He turned, forcing himself to ignore the way his chest tightened, the way the warmth of her touch still lingered on his skin. The night stretched before him, vast and unforgiving, but it was the path he had chosen.


    A hitched breath echoed in the silence, fragile and unsteady. Then, a voice—soft, trembling—broke through the cold.


    "Will you ever come back?"


    Lucien''s gaze remained fixed ahead. His voice, when it came, was distant, almost hollow. "Not to stay."


    A pause. Then, quieter—softer—he exhaled. "But to take you with me… yeah."


    The sobbing stilled, the night holding its breath. Then, the faintest rustle—soft steps against the earth—before he felt her warmth press against his back, grounding him in a way he didn''t know he needed.