Goodbye, Saintess.

Having an Awakenist as my wife meant enduring her monkish attitude toward sex. We could only be intimate on the sixteenth of every month. Every detail—my position, rhythm, even my expression—had to follow her rigid rules. If I showed too much pleasure, she would immediately rise and leave. We had been married for five years. Was I ever tired of this? Yes. Still, I always gave in. I accepted these limitations because I loved her. "The Saintess loves me too," I told myself. That faith shattered the day I was sent to extinguish a hotel fire. Amid the flames, I found my wife pressed close to a man in disheveled clothes. Between their arms was a young boy. Chapter 1 Having an Awakenist as my wife meant enduring her monkish attitude toward sex. We could only be intimate on the sixteenth of every month. Every detail—my position, rhythm, even my expression—had to follow her rigid rules. If I showed too much pleasure, she would immediately rise and leave. We had been married for five years. Was I ever tired of this? Yes. Still, I always gave in. I accepted these limitations because I loved her. "The Saintess loves me too," I told myself. She was like a Saintess—pure, revered, and stoic. Yet beneath that divine distance, she must have loved me. That belief became my personal faith, rivaling hers. That faith shattered the day I was sent to extinguish a hotel fire. Amid the flames, I found my wife pressed close to a man in disheveled clothes. Between their arms was a young boy. I had never seen Hera wear that expression. She was trembling, yet she calmly soothed the child while nestling in the man's arms. She radiated a gentle aura. I froze. The air burned around me, but I felt as if I had been plunged into the coldest abyss on Earth. "Snap out of it, Grimwald! I'll rescue this family!" my captain, Albert Holst, barked. "You handle the next room!" Hera Bishop looked up, bewildered. Her eyes seemed to pierce through my fire mask. Our eyes met, and I felt my heart tear apart. Albert called them a family. If that was true, then who was I to her? As the flames roared, duty pushed aside my thoughts. I sprinted off to save anyone trapped in the next room. … It took three hours to put out the fire. Fortunately, there were no casualties. By the time I had left the building, though, Hera, the man, and the child had vanished. I meant so little to her that she did not even think I deserved an explanation. I chuckled to myself bitterly. What had I been doing all these five years? … Hera was already home when I finally returned. It was a rare sight. She usually stayed at her office until the early morning, so I assumed she was waiting for me. I expected an explanation. I was even willing to forgive her if it made sense. Instead, she was in the middle of a video conference. She did not even acknowledge my presence. An hour or more passed. The meeting was over, and Hera finally looked at me before tossing a document in my direction. "An adoption?!" I cried out with a pang. "Yes. We are adopting the child you saw earlier today." "But why are we doing that?" I protested hotly. "What's your relationship with him? Hell, what's your relationship with that… man?!" "His name is Edmund Castle. He's Bobby's father and my colleague at work. That's all you need to know. Everything else is irrelevant to you." I smirked. Was that it? Was this the only explanation I was ever going to get? She did not give me a choice. No, she gave me a notice and not a single say. "Make it make sense, Hera! Why would you meet your 'colleague' in a hotel? Why were your clothes disheveled? Tell me the truth! Is that child actually yours?!" My outpour of hurt only made her frown. "You're overthinking it. I'm an Awakenist, remember? I do not commit sins of that sort. I have not cheated on you." My smirk widened like a crack. "You've always insisted on 'moderation' and 'chastity' and whatnot. Hell, we could only have sex once a month! But you didn't seem to be thinking about any of that when you threw yourself into that man's arms, did you?" I had never been skeptical. I supported her faith without reservation. This time, though? I was starting to wonder if she had been using her faith as an excuse this whole time. Hera's frown deepened. "I know I've done nothing wrong. Worldly fools could cast their doubt all they want, but the innocent will remain innocent." She sneered frostily, "If you're that convinced about my infidelity, then we can stop having sex completely. Honestly, I would rather not bother doing something so uninteresting. The only reason I had for sex was to produce a child, but we have one now." It hurt deeply. I had no idea she hated every moment of our intimacy. She was the Saintess—divine, pure, and untainted by desires. She would never break any rule for an unimportant mortal like me. I was just not important enough to be her exception. Hera closed her laptop and rose. "That is all. Goodnight." I gritted through the pain in my chest and called out to her, "Listen! I don't mind adopting the child, but can you please stop mingling with other men in return? Please? Stop insulting your husband, alright?" She stopped in her tracks for a moment. "No. Bobby will want his dad to be around. I didn't insult you, Sebastian. You did by imagining the worst of other people," she replied placidly and left. I could not sleep that night. Pain consumed me, yet through it all, I thought I could hear Hera chattering and laughing with Edmund from her room. The hallucinations tormented me till the morning. … Bobby was already here the next morning. His luggage filled the living room, and I watched as Hera helped him unpack with the brightest smile I had ever seen on her face. I could not tell what to feel. When she and I moved into our new home after our wedding, the only expression she had worn the whole day was a stoic, disinterested deadpan. She once claimed she couldn't smile. "An Awakenist," she had said, "must never express overt expressions. Not even joy." But now I understood the truth. The Saintess had never been forbidden to show happiness. The real reason she never smiled at me was that I meant nothing to her. After they finished unpacking, Hera decided to shower Bobby. Then, suddenly, I heard the water shut off and the child crying. I started feeling a little nervous. Hera had never been a mother nor taken care of a child before. And Bobby was so young—he could have gotten into all kinds of injuries. I could not stop worrying. Hera was my wife for five years. Naturally, I cared about her. And though I had only just met Bobby, he was a child I had technically adopted. Even after our fight last night, the kid was innocent. I opened the door and went inside Hera's room, ready to help. I froze. The first thing that greeted me was a man's overcoat hanging near the door. Through the half-opened bathroom door, I could see what was inside. Bobby sobbed, his gums bleeding from brushing too hard. Hera comforted him gently, wrapped in a bath towel and smelling fresh from the shower. Behind her, Edmund held a hairdryer over her hair, joking about Bobby being a scaredy cat. It was the perfect picture of a happy family. Except… this was my house, and that woman was supposed to be my wife. My face drained of color. It felt as though my heart tore apart again. My knees wobbled, and I staggered backward, hitting the wall. The noise startled Edmund. He finally noticed me and panicked. "Mr. Grimwald! This is not what you think! I sent Bobby over last night, but the kid didn't want me to leave, so I stayed!" he explained. "I was just here for Bobby. That's all!" I reeled. It hit me—this was no hallucination. He had been here, in this house, in her room, all night. And he had done something I was never allowed to do. Not even when I was her husband. Chapter 2 Hera never let me stay in her room overnight. She claimed that an Awakenist must remain calm and undistracted during her practice. That meant, even on the one night we could have sex, I had to tidy the bed for her before leaving alone once it was over. It took Edmund's presence for me to realize these strict, nearly monastic rules were meant for me alone. They formed a wall of defense against a single enemy. My heart broke. I could not speak. My limbs grew numb. I felt as if I was losing all capacity to feel anything except the knife twisting in my chest. Yet Hera showed no sign of panic. She just frowned. "Why didn't you knock before coming in like a proper, civilized adult?" she thundered. "Get out!" I pointed at myself, then at Edmund. Was this some twisted joke? My wife had let another man into her "sacred abode" for the night. Moments ago, he had been drying her hair while she wore only a bath towel for modesty. And I, her actual husband, had to knock to announce my arrival in my own house? How little respect did she have for me? For this marriage? Disappointment consumed me. That was all I could feel. "Let's get a divorce, Hera." For more than five years, I had been the accommodating one. She issued cold, rigid demands and limitations, and I made concessions. I had grown used to being gentle and caring toward a harsh, uncaring Saintess. This was the first time my attitude matched hers. "A divorce? Just because of this?" Hera looked at me in disbelief, shaking her head. "No. That is not happening." Her firmness caught me off guard. I had assumed this was what she and Edmund both wanted. Was she trying to save the marriage? Had she realized she still cared about me? I knew it sounded foolish, but I couldn't help it. I had been in love with her for over five years. Extending grace to her had become second nature. Then she said, "I'm still in a Period of Observation. Divorce violates an Awakenist Commandment. I won't commit a sin. Even if you want one, it'll have to wait until this period ends." She spoke as if this were the most natural thing in the world, like it was obvious. And once again, I realized I was the only one who still believed in this marriage. The pain in my chest rose to my throat. I wasn't her husband anymore. I wasn't even a man in her eyes. "Ira, I'm really sorry," Edmund murmured. "I never wanted Bobby and me to be the reason for your divorce. I should go." He let out a quiet sigh, then lifted Bobby into his arms. I closed my eyes. This pathetic display was the last thing I needed. He wasn't wrong—this was my house, not his. I was the one who had built a home here. He had broken in and acted like he belonged. I didn't expect Hera to stop him. "No. Bobby's things are already unpacked. There's no reason for either of you to leave," she said. "Stay. This is between me and him." Then she turned to me. Her eyes were cold. "You're the one who should go. Can't you see how young Bobby is? Why are you forcing a child to be separated from his father? Be a man." So now it was my fault? And "be a man?" Should I clap for her the next time she slept with someone else right in front of me? Would that make me more of a man? The words burned in my mouth, but I swallowed them. Her stony expression reminded me that nothing I said could reach her anymore. This marriage had turned into a farce. It was time to leave. I stepped out of Hera's room in silence and started packing. Only then did I realize how little I actually owned. My life had revolved around her and this house. Everything that was truly mine fit into a single box. The room was empty of me in less than an hour. That was it. I left a letter behind—nothing emotional, just a reminder to show up at the courthouse next Monday to finalize the divorce. I opened the door and came face-to-face with Hera, who frowned at the sight of my luggage. "Where are you going?" she asked. "Anywhere but here. It's yours now, Hera. It's over." "Bobby's right outside. Stop trying to ruin everyone's morning. That's selfish," she snapped. "When I said to leave, I meant go back to your room. Not this." Her gaze landed on the letter I'd left on the table. She grabbed it, read it, then tore it apart in a fury. "Don't make me repeat myself, Sebastian. We are not getting a divorce! Push for it again and you'll face the consequences!" "What consequences?" I shot back. "Like the ones you'll face for breaking your sacred commandments? I'm curious, Hera. When you were sleeping with him, did it ever cross your mind what Lord Zeno might think of you?" Her hand struck my face with a sharp crack. "Shut up!" she screamed. "How dare you insult my god?!" I stood frozen, stunned. I hadn't expected her to hit me. Our marriage had been distant, even loveless at times, but we'd still managed to treat each other with a shred of respect. She had never hit me before. It was the final blow—if the camel hadn't already collapsed under the weight. "Then take this as me breaking under the pressure of your Awakenist vows," I said. "We don't need to turn this into a war. I'd rather not be enemies with someone I once called my wife." Her fury faltered. For a moment, her expression softened. "I'm sorry I hit you, but you know how much my faith means to me. You shouldn't have provoked me!" I smiled bitterly. "People can say anything they want to look innocent." She went still, then her rage flared up again. "Why can't you trust me, Sebastian?! I'm an Awakenist. I don't lie. I told you I wasn't cheating, and that's the truth! Why do you always assume the worst and accuse me of things you've imagined?!" "More like I stopped it just in time for it not to count as cheating," I spat. Her face twisted. She grabbed my suitcase. "Go wherever you want, but we are not getting a divorce!" She stormed out. I stood there, trembling from grief and fury. I could barely breathe. She thought taking my luggage would stop me. Unfortunately, she was wrong. I could always buy new clothes. I'd rather start over from scratch than stay another minute in that house. I walked out. I hadn't gone far before my phone rang. Chapter 3 "Captain Holst?" "Grimwald, bad news. A forest wildfire broke out in the mountains to the west. Three teams have already died on duty, and the situation shows no sign of improving. We're next." My nerves tightened. Suddenly, my personal matters slipped from my mind. I had to be there for the team immediately. "I'm ready for duty, sir!" If the wildfire spiraled out of control, countless innocent lives would be at risk. Compared to that, my personal drama was laughably trivial. "Not yet, Grimwald. You don't fully understand what we're facing. I want you to spend today with your family," Albert said. "Especially your wife. If I remember correctly, you're married, right?" I stopped in my tracks. A heavy weight settled over me. Everyone at the station knew I was married, but Hera had never appeared in person. She always refused to attend social events, even when others brought their families. I was certain my captain and teammates had nearly forgotten she existed. "I understand, Captain Holst." The call ended, and I sighed. I had been Hera's husband for five years. Of course, I could predict her reaction or lack of one. Why would the Saintess care about the dangers I faced? Life was fleeting to the Awakened. Even after warning her about the risks of my missions, the most she had ever offered was a scripted "take care," delivered without sincerity. I had grown so used to her apathy that I stopped burdening her with my work. But this time, it could really be the end for me. Even if Hera showed no warmth or concern, I still had a duty to inform her. When I finally returned home, I discovered a side of her I had never seen before. She was dressed to the nines—stunningly beautiful—and ready to leave in her car. I approached her from the window. "Hey, I've got something I need to tell you." She dismissed me. "Tell me after I return. I've got an emergency event to attend." I frowned but did not back away. People suffering from that wildfire needed help immediately. I had to tell her now. I wonder what kind of an "emergency event" it could be. Hera only ever went out for two reasons: work or a visit to an Awakenist monastery. Then I noticed the passenger side. Edmund sat there, breaking Hera's silence. "Mr. Grimwald, I apologize. There's an afternoon tea party at my company today. She's my companion." He turned to her. "Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I should go alone." "No. He never has anything important. I can't say the same for you," she replied placidly. She then started the engine and drove away. For a while, I did not move. It was as if my entire body had turned to stone. I certainly felt my heart weighing down on my chest. Hera had declined so many of my social events for years. Yet when Edmund asked, she accepted immediately and dressed for the occasion. I could not even ignore the fact that the event wouldn't even start until the afternoon, yet they were leaving early in the morning. "An Awakenist would not lie, you said. And yet you had to be lying. You treat Edmund like he is your husband. Why else would you agree to be his companion? What, is your attendance somehow benefiting Bobby's wellbeing too?" I muttered bitterly. There was no reason for me to stay here any longer. This house used to mean something to me, but now, it was just an eyesore. Every step I took to leave here felt like crushing every precious memory I shared with her under my foot. … In the evening, Hera suddenly sent me a text. Hera: [I'm free. We can have dinner. You can tell me about whatever you wanted to say.] It read as though the Saintess was generously granting me an audience out of pity. I hesitated but decided to seize the opportunity. After all, we could discuss the divorce. If I were to perish in the fire, I would want to leave the world without any regret or lingering attachment. I reserved a table at the restaurant where we had our first date. I told her to come alone. This was our beginning. It should also be our end. The restaurant's interior remained remarkably unchanged. The same wind chime still hung over the window. If only we hadn't changed, too. She never responded. I waited until after nine at night, when the restaurant was about to close. I should have known. The Saintess felt nothing for me. I did not even feel bitter. Her indifference was as unyielding as the laws of nature. Just as I was about to leave, Hera arrived—with Edmund and Bobby. I frowned. This was meant to be the end of our relationship. I had asked for privacy and no witnesses. She clearly did not care. "I came straight from work. Edmund and Bobby haven't eaten yet. What's wrong with them tagging along?" she demanded. Before I could protest, the man and his son took their seats across the table. Hera ignored the empty spot beside me and squeezed in on their side. "Edmund said he'll cover the bill. He feels sorry for everything that's happened," she stated. "Honestly, Sebastian, you should learn from him. Be a little more generous and big-hearted." She sounded so nonchalant, as if she hadn't just sunk another knife into my chest. I held my tongue only because this was going to be our last dinner. I had planned to say goodbye, but Edward and Bobby's presence made it impossible. I wondered if Hera would regret bringing them along if she knew this was truly the end. Then again, maybe it no longer mattered. She had wasted this chance and showed little remorse. The Saintess had become so distant and cold that I could no longer imagine her warmth. "Mr. Grimwald, please help yourself to anything you like! Dinner's on me!" Edmund said cheerfully. "Ira has been very kind. I'm also thrilled you've agreed to adopt Bobby. Thank you so much!" He raised his glass to my direction, but I stared at him without moving. He froze in embarrassment. That's when Hera said softly, "Don't waste your good spirit on him. He's not as big-hearted or friendly as you are." She clinked her glass against Edmund's, casually dismissing me in the process. Then she called out sweetly, "Bobby, cheers!" They toasted and laughed, already deep in conversation about decorating Bobby's room and what colors he liked. At that moment, I felt like a stranger sharing the same table. A realization struck me, and I asked, "Was it you who wanted to have dinner with me? Or was it him?" "Of course it was him. He wanted to apologize for your hurt feelings," she replied, annoyed. "I wouldn't have had the time." If I had any hope that she cared about me, it died at that moment. As it turned out, what was supposed to be our last goodbye was a suggestion on Edmund's part. The Saintess herself would not have cared. It pained me. But at the same time, it gave me the push to say what I wanted to say. "My captain called. There's a wildfire in the west, and they need me to help contain it. It's dangerous. I may not make it back," I said. "I think we should get a divorce. That way, you'll be free of me. You can all be together." A sense of relief overcame me, but it faded quickly. As time passed, fresh waves of pain crashed in. No one had listened. Not a single person met my gaze. They laughed, chatted, and told jokes. They simply did not care. I raised my voice. "Hera Bishop, did you hear what I said?!" She sliced a piece of steak and set it on Bobby's plate. "Oh? Yeah. Take care." I laughed. How the hell had our relationship managed to last this long like this? Fine. She was disinterested. I had no reason to be here anymore. Just as I stood to leave, the hanging light above me broke loose, swung down, and smashed into my head. Glass shattered. Blood poured down my face—hot, thick, and sticky. I could feel every eye in the restaurant lock onto me. "Sebastian!" Hera shot to her feet and rushed toward me. Chapter 4 I had never seen Hera panic before. She looked like she was about to cry for me! Could she actually still love me? Then, suddenly, I heard Bobby wail tearfully, "Mooom! Dad is bleeding! I'm scared!" She turned. Edmund was covering his bleeding shoulder, wincing. Some of the glass shards seemed to have cut through his skin a little. "I'm taking you to the hospital!" Hera declared instantly. She immediately forgot me, took his hand, and prepared to leave. "Wait. We have to bring him along, right? His injury is worse," Edmund murmured. Bobby, however, bawled. "I don't want him to follow us! He's bleeding everywhere! I'm scared!" Edmund did not correct his son or insist that I needed help. Instead, he looked at Hera expectantly. She took only a few seconds to make her choice. "We can't bring him. Bobby's afraid of blood and might faint seeing Sebastian like this," she declared. "He's gonna be fine. He's a firefighter and knows how to do first aid on himself. Let's go." She scooped Bobby into her arms, took Edmund by the hand, and left me bleeding in the restaurant where we'd had our first date five years ago. Blood and tears blurred my vision. The restaurant owner was the one who took me to the hospital. Fortunately, the cuts turned out to be less serious than the bleeding had made them out to be. All I needed was some first aid and a bandage. The physical pain was nothing compared to what tore through my chest. I lay on the sick bed, my senses growing numb. I knew she wasn't thinking of me. I just wished my injury was not severe enough to compromise my ability to help with the wildfire. That night, I drifted between painful wakefulness and torturous dreams. Through it all, my phone stayed silent. No texts. No calls. Maybe only Edmund and Bobby mattered to her now. … When my phone finally rang, it was a call from Albert. "Grimwald! Are you ready?" "Yes, sir! I'm ready for duty." My head was no longer hurting as much. I got out of bed and flexed my muscles a little. They were fine. I did not think I needed to inform Hera of anything anymore. The Saintess had no time for a mortal of my status. "Alright. No need to rush to the station, Grimwald. The situation is dire. Our superiors are making sure that our equipment is complete and sufficient before deploying the Beta Team," Albert explained. "They told me we'll be heading out in the afternoon. I'll update you once they confirm a more specific time." I was stunned. I had to wait another half a day? Where was I supposed to go in the meantime? Home? No. This might be my last time on Earth. That was all the more reason to avoid putting myself in a dehumanizing situation. Suddenly, Hera called. "Sebastian, please refrain from coming home for the moment. Bobby said he doesn't like seeing you. Every time you're around, his father either gets upset or has some kind of accident. He's just a child; it's natural for him to think this way. You need to give him more space and time to adjust," she said coldly. "I reserved a hotel room for you and instructed the majordomo to bring your suitcase over. While you're at the hotel, Edmund will stay home to help Bobby settle in." She paused. "Don't worry, Edmund will sleep in your room. Nothing will happen between us." Nothing had changed. She never called to discuss anything—only to inform. "That is all. I still have a meeting to attend." I listened to the disconnect tone once the call ended. She'd grown bolder, hadn't she? Since I found out about them, she no longer cared to hide. She adopted the child without asking for my opinion. Now, she had found an excuse for Edmund to stay in the house while kicking me out. The only thing missing was an admission of their relationship. But why would she grant me that honesty? To the Saintess, I was just a mortal. "Fine. I guess I wasted five years of my life on her." With a mission this dangerous, I could very well be at the end of my life. Whatever time I had left would be too precious to be wasted on this drama. It was time to move on. … After being discharged, I headed to the hotel. The majordomo had sent my suitcase along with Hera's laptop. He had probably mistaken it for mine, since I had gifted it to her for our anniversary. I had accidentally chosen a color she disliked—black—but she did not seem to mind and had been using it ever since. This laptop was her entire workstation. At first, I did not even want to touch it with a ten-foot pole. Then I remembered the photos we might have stored there, memories of better days before she became obsessed with the Awakenist creed. I wanted those memories gone. If our relationship was over, the pictures should be gone as well. I turned on the laptop. Before I could start going through her files, her Discord window popped up. Edmund's photo stung my eyes. She'd pinned him to the top of her chat list and nicknamed him "Ed." Just two letters, but they carried a staggering sense of closeness. I could choke on it. What about our chat? I used to message her a dozen times a day. Where was our conversation? I scrolled down, my heart aching. Edmund was the only one pinned at the top. Below him were groups within her company, conversations with other executives, and her clients. Then came Awakenist groups, and even a chat with the monastery abbot. I kept scrolling until I reached the very bottom, where my original Discord handle appeared. She hadn't bothered to give me a nickname. Worse, I was the only one muted. No wonder her replies were always so scarce. I could send her a dozen texts and get only one- or two-word answers. That affectionate, two-word nickname contrasted sharply with the cold ,curt replies she sent after I poured out my worry and care. The ironic sentimental difference was tearing me apart. A chill sank deep into my bones. It was suffocating. I couldn't bear to read any further. Then, suddenly, a notification appeared. It was from "Ed." He had sent a dozen pictures of Hera attending Bobby's school events. The first showed all three wearing matching shirts, holding hands, their faces lit with wide grins. The second showed Hera and Edmund walking side by side as they led Bobby to poke a balloon. The third showed Edmund sharing a cookie with her. They were eating it at the same time, their lips nearly touching. The pictures just kept getting more and more intimate. I had never seen the stoic and aloof Saintess show such an array of emotions. "An Awakenist must always remain composed," she used to tell me. Yet, she looked overjoyed in every photo. And even more damningly was the timestamp at the bottom of the photos. These pictures were taken ten minutes ago. So that was why she hadn't wanted me to come home. She was worried I would see all of this. And to think she'd told me she had a meeting today. "You said an Awakenist never lies. But lying is all you've done throughout our marriage," I muttered. Chapter 5 I instinctively reached for my phone to confront her but stopped. What was the point? Everything was already clear. Even if she refused to go through with the divorce, the nature of my upcoming mission was such that I might not even survive. Why burden myself with more pain on what might be the last day of my life? I put the phone down. I was about to shut off the laptop and leave with my suitcase when another message from Edmund appeared. This time, it was a video. The thumbnail showed him and Hera standing on a classroom stage. Once again, happiness poured from them like a flood. Was this video new? Quaking, I clicked play. A teacher was introducing Hera and Edmund as Bobby's parents before offering them the stage to talk about how they had met. Hera grabbed Edmund's hand and pulled him behind her, looking sheepish. The Saintess, who had never shown me anything but stoic composure, was blushing. "Edmund and I were childhood friends. He was my first crush," she began. "We went to the same elementary school, middle school, high school... and eventually the same college. He didn't confess his feelings until then…" Her blush deepened. "Before I knew it, college was over, and my arm was around his as we stepped into the church to exchange vows. He is the best thing that ever happened to me. No one else could have been as perfect as he is—and he loves me back!" My eyes widened. Edmund was her first love? But she had told me I was her first crush. She had said she had never felt this way about anyone before and made me promise to treat her right. I was hopelessly in love with her. I would have obliged even if I weren't her first love. I gave her everything she wanted, be it material or emotional. And this was what I got? It felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest and thrown to the floor again. I felt my entire being implode. I could not breathe. I collapsed to the floor, my body trembling and my breath coming in short gasps. Meanwhile, tears blurred my vision. She had been lying to me even before we were together. Our marriage had never been filled with lies—the truth had simply never existed between us. The video was still playing. I could hear "Oohs" and "Aahs." Someone urged Hera to share more details about their love story, "Tell us about the romantic things he did for you!" Romance? These people had no idea how dull Hera truly was. I had once poured effort into creating romantic moments. Each time, she showed less and less interest. Then, she told me she hated romance. These things were distractions. Illusions, even. An Awakenist valued only sincerity. I had believed her. That was why I had restrained my burning passion and love for her and lived the way she wanted. It was my proof of sincerity. "Romantic things?" Hera's bashful voice drifted into my ears. "Oh, shucks. There were a lot. He's really the biggest romantic I've ever had the pleasure of meeting in my life. "Once, he stayed up late three nights in a row to make me a handmade handbag. He was so embarrassed, he lied about winning it in a contest. He was yawning when he said that! And those eyes! His dark circles were really incriminating, believe me! I looked into those tired eyes and knew he was the one." Hera took Edmund's hand, weaving her fingers between his, and met his gaze. "I still have that bag, by the way." She turned to the audience again. "Another time, shortly after we married, I told him I didn't like the food served at my company. When I came home, he had prepared a feast of all my favorite dishes. Later, I found out he had searched every corner of the city for the best ingredients. He even burned his hands by accident while cooking!" She lifted Edmund's hand and kissed it as the crowd watched. "Then there was the time he accidentally did something funny. I felt bad for him and called him an idiot, but he said he would do it again even if he could turn back time because it made me laugh. "Another time, when I was suffering from a high fever, he cared for me without rest for three days straight. In the end, he had to be hospitalized for exhaustion! But then he told me, 'Your life is more important than mine.'" I could hear the crowd gasping and murmuring in envy. Their reactions cut through the air like knives on a chopping board, while my heart lay open for them to shred. The video had much more to go, but I couldn't bear it any longer. I shut down the laptop. Those romantic stories Hera recounted were true, but Edmund was not the one who had done those things. "It was me. I was the one who did all of that for you!" I croaked, my voice cracking, speaking to no one in particular. The Saintess was not without feeling. She longed for romance, joy, and little surprises. She craved love. She was simply as distant and cold as a statue of the holiest goddess when she was with me. She remembered everything I had done for her. All of it. But she preferred to pretend another man had done them. That handbag I had made for her? She had thanked me like it was a part of a procedure and had never used it once. When I asked why, she said she hated the style. I had felt really bad about it and had told myself I should have learned about her fashion sense better. The feast I had prepared for her? She had not even taken a bite. In fact, she had thrown a fit at me for preparing it. She had said wasting food and ingredients in her honor was an insult to her character as an ardent Awakenist. I had explained myself to her despite how hurt and stunned I had been, saying I just wanted her to be happy. She had ignored me and gone on an impromptu retreat at an Awakenist monastery instead for a week. I had not even realized she had noticed the scald burns on my hands. Now I knew. She had seen them but just had not cared. And the story about her fever? I had taken an extended leave at work so that I could take care of her for days. She had told me to leave her alone, and I had assumed it was because she had felt bad for my efforts. Thus, I had told her her life was more important than mine. She had been disgusted, reprimanding me, "This fever is a test, you fool! Lord Zeno is testing my faith! It's a blessing in disguise! So don't even think about stepping into my room. Your ignorance will hinder me!" I had felt so remorseful over it that I started reading everything there was about Awakenism. But you know what I found? Nothing! There was not a single mention of sickness being any kind of test or "blessing in disguise" in the actual doctrine. At the time, I had assumed I had simply read the wrong books or missed out on certain resources. But now I knew that it was an excuse. She already knew how much I had done for her. She even agreed that it was nice. The problem was that she did not want me to be the guy who had done it. So this was why it was my fault, huh? I should not have met her. I should not have loved her. My tears dried, and I felt liberated. I was so glad to be able to come to the truth at a moment like this—when my survival in the upcoming mission was uncertain. Now, I could really move on and end this farce of a union with the Saintess who had never loved me. I asked for a paper and a pen from the front desk. Then, I wrote my farewell letter. [Hera, [I have made up my mind. You may disagree or argue about the timing with your religious obligations, but our relationship is over. [I have decided to step out of your life so you and your true love can be together. [Bobby is your biological son, isn't he? You had him with Edmund. [What I don't understand is why you went through the exhausting act of dating me, hiding things from me, and then enduring a marriage with me for half a decade. Wasn't it suffocating? Wasn't it tormenting? [From my side, you showed me how much of a fool I was to hold on to you for five years. I ran out of tears, but I wasn't crying for you—I was crying for myself. My heart ached for me. [As your ex-husband, I hate you. But as a firefighter, I have no regrets about saving your life and theirs. Now, I am a firefighter again. I have an assignment to carry out. [You can imagine I die on duty if you want, because no matter what happens, we will never see each other again. [Take care, Hera. [Farewell.] Chapter 6 It was the letter to end it all. There was no turning back for me. From that moment on, no matter what happened, it would have nothing to do with Miss Bishop of Edge Inc. I had barely stepped out of the room when I caught a strange smell. "Something's burning," I muttered. The firefighter in me snapped to alert. I followed the scent and found thick smoke leaking through the cracks of a hotel room door. A fire. I grabbed a nearby extinguisher and kicked the door hard. After five strong kicks, the door gave way. The acrid smell of smoke hit me instantly. Flickering flames licked inside—the fire was still small, but all it needed was time to grow into a monster. I removed the safety pin with practiced ease and rushed inside. Half the bed was engulfed in flames. On the other half stood a striking woman, wrapped only in a bathrobe. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused. She held a wine bottle, took a sip, then poured some onto the fire. The flames roared happily at the offering. "Holy shit, get up! You're in danger!" I shouted, yanking her away from the bed. "Ngah! You're hurting me, bozo! Who the hell are you?!" she shrieked, pounding my back with fists. I might have pulled her too hard in panic. "I said, who the fuck are you?! Get out of my room right now!" I ignored her protests and focused on the fire. With steady hands, I aimed at the base of the flames and pressed the nozzle. A white spray hissed out. Three seconds later, the fire was out. I exhaled in relief. Luckily, I arrived before it spread. If it had grown, I alone would not have been enough! I turned to look at the woman behind me. Holy cow! Now she was lighting the wallpaper on fire. "Are you for real?!" I shouted, grabbing her wrist with one hand and dousing the wall with the extinguisher in the other. She yanked herself free and lunged back toward the bed, trying to set the pillow ablaze. Goddamn it. What was wrong with this woman? I tackled her to the bed, snatched her lighter, and threw it as far as I could. "Enough! You're committing arson!" She didn't back down. If anything, she fought harder. "Is that the best threat you've got, bozo? 'Cause I sure as hell ain't scared! Let me go!" she yelled. "You don't know who I am, do you?! I'm Rhea Canien of the Canien family, you brute! Anyone who crosses me gets it!" With a burst of crazed strength, she shoved me aside and scrambled for the lighter again. "What the heck?" Who let this arsonist loose?! I grabbed her and pinned her down on the bed. "Snap out of it! You're drunk," I growled. "I don't care what bigshot family you're from—no one gets a pass for arson. You're no exception." "Shut your trap!" Rhea spat, glaring at me and struggling fiercely. "How dare you lecture me about crime, you goddamn pervert? Let me go before I report you for harassment and assault!" I smirked. "I'm doing this because you're trying to set a goddamn hotel on fire!" "Stop pretending to be a hero, you perv! Why else are you pressing up against me?!" "Because if I let go, you'll grab the lighter again." "So what if I do? It's none of your business!" For the first time since we'd met, I saw her eyes turn glassy. She looked like someone who had just been bullied. Then I glanced down and realized her bathrobe had slipped open. Too much of her fair, delicate skin was exposed. Right. Maybe I had leaned in a little too close. And the position I'd taken wasn't helping. It was already more intimate than anything I'd ever been allowed with Hera. I stepped back and let go. "Sorry. That wasn't my intention. I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to stop the fire." Rhea curled under the bedsheet, only her head peeking out as she glared at me. "Stop the fire? Horseshit. You're just looking for an excuse to violate me!" "I'm a firefighter, miss. Here are my credentials," I said, amused, and pulled out my badge and ID. She studied the documents. Her skepticism faded slightly, though her temper remained intact. "So what if you're a firefighter? You're still a guy. Men are all bozos and scum." Let me see. She was drunk and trying to set things on fire… "Is that what this is about? Love troubles?" I asked. "Even so, you shouldn't try to end your life over it." "What's it to you? This is my life! I get to decide how it ends!" she snapped, turning away. Suddenly, anger surged in me. I had witnessed too many lives destroyed by fire in my career. I had seen countless souls fail to survive the flames, their lives consumed like everything else. I hated that sight. I hated people throwing away their lives when others fought desperately to live another day. "You know what? You're right. It's your life. Do whatever the hell you want. See if I care," I snapped. "But your method will drag innocent people down with you. That makes you just as much of an asshole." Rhea stared at me, stunned. She pointed at herself. "Did you just shout at me?" "So what if I did? You don't even care about your own life. And now you care about being shouted at? Take a look at yourself. You really think you'll go out peacefully in flames? There won't even be enough left of you to look human when it's over! "Do you even know how painful it is? It's like being carved up by a thousand flaming blades. People don't die from heat or burns—they die from pain first. Then the fire finishes them off. You don't even know the half of what I've seen." Yes, I exaggerated. I had to. This woman might not care about her own life, but I still could not—in my conscience—abet the death of another human being by looking away. "Y-You're just trying to scare me!" Rhea shot back, her face paling as a shiver ran through her. "And why would I do that? If you don't believe me, go ahead and try it. But don't do it where innocent people can get caught in it. Find a wide, empty concrete spot and immolate yourself. See if I care." Chapter 7 The look in Rhea's eyes told me she wasn't going to kill herself today. That, at least, was a relief. Still, she wouldn't just admit it. "Well, what if I am determined to die, huh? Maybe I'll jump off the balcony after you leave!" "Cool. Jumping off buildings isn't in my job description anymore, so knock yourself out. Just a heads-up, though: this floor isn't high enough. You'll probably survive, but with a broken spine and no control from the waist down. What are you gonna do if that happens? "So here's a better plan. Grab a bag from the shop downstairs, wrap it around your head, climb to the roof, and then jump. Full satisfaction, guaranteed," I snarked. "Why you—" She shook with fury. "Why the hell should I get a bag over my head?" "Out of respect for the cleaning crew! No need to make their job harder. They'll have to spend a lot of effort scrubbing the pavement clean of your brain, right?" Rhea shut her eyes in fear while snarling, "Fuck you, bozo!" That was not the look of someone who meant what she said. I was sure I had saved her life. "Alright, enough talk. Give me my badge and ID back. I need to get going. You can, I don't know, start picking out a nice bag for your head." I extended my hand toward her matter-of-factly, but Rhea shook her head. "Sorry, but I'm not giving them back to you. How dare you tell me how to die?! And you saw me naked! You have to pay for that!" "Come on, miss. I don't have time for this. Get on with your plan already. I have a fire to put out today!" I replied, snatched my stuff back, and left before she could react. I had no problem saving her life, but it did not mean I was fond of people like her. I was especially repulsed by high-maintenance, self-centered rich girls like her. "Stand where you are, bozo!" she yelled. "Grimwald! Did you hear me? You're not getting away with this!" I ignored her and walked off with my suitcase. Unbeknownst to me, Rhea opened her palm to reveal a torn scrap of paper—a photo of me she'd ripped from my documents. "You don't actually look half-bad," she muttered to herself with a smirk. "Sebastian Grimwald, Astergrad Fire Brigade Beta Team… You're not getting away from me." … I had no idea I'd become someone's target. All I wanted was to report for duty. Albert spotted my suitcase and gaped. "Grimwald? Why are you bringing luggage?" Of course he was surprised. When the odds of surviving a mission were so uncertain, no one bothered packing extra clothes. We lived and often died in the same uniform. "It's just for my family," I said, lying. "Didn't want to leave this stuff behind in case I don't make it. Might make things harder for them, you know?" "Grimwald… That's a little grim, don't you think? You're not necessarily going to die, alright?" Albert let out a sigh. "Anyway, our superior got in touch. All our gear's already been moved to the mountain base. It's our turn to report." Ever since I said goodbye to Hera, I'd been ready for whatever came next. My face barely changed. "Yes, sir. I'm ready." If he could have, the captain would've taken Sebastian off the roster. Last he heard, the man hadn't even had a child with his wife yet. "Hey, good news," Albert added. "It rained a few hours ago. Thank God. Helped a lot with the fire. It's mostly under control now. Our team's just heading out to provide backup. So honestly… you don't have to come. We've got this." Part of me felt relieved. A wildfire under control meant fewer deaths and less destruction. That was always a win. But thinking about Hera erased any trace of relief. I just wanted to get out of Astergrad for a while. "No, Captain Holst. Let me go. They still need every hand they can get, right?" I was so persistent that Albert gave in and let me join the team. … By the time we arrived, the fire was mostly under control. The remaining tasks involved statistics and logistics, such as counting heads and recording casualty figures. I scanned the charred forest floor and felt my personal concerns fade into the background. My focus sharpened. I stayed at the mountain base for days. Although the wildfire had eased, I still witnessed its cruelty. I watched bodies being carried back to camp. Many comrades had died, and too many were burned beyond recognition. These frontliners were usually firefighters from nearby towns. Their loved ones had already arrived at camp to identify the bodies. Some were the deceased's wives and children—the sight of their tears struck a painful chord in my chest. I even saw a few elderly family members. Their frail frames trembled as they approached, and some fainted from shock. It was a harrowing scene. Yet, I could not help but notice the silence from Hera after several days. She had not even sent me a single message. To be honest, I wished it were me on the stretcher. I wished my life mattered enough for someone to grieve my passing. And yet, my wife did not even remember me. - Hera left the conference room after a long meeting and suddenly felt a sharp jolt in her chest. It felt as if her heart had skipped a beat. Instinctively, she pressed her hand to her chest, confusion flickering across her face. Her assistant noticed immediately. "Ms. Bishop? Are you all right? Should we cancel your next meeting so you can take a break?" "No need. I'm fine," Hera said calmly, shaking her head. A sudden thought struck her. She glanced at her phone. There was no message from Sebastian. None at all. She frowned. The silence unsettled her. "How has Sebastian been doing at the hotel these past few days? Has anyone from management reached out?" "No, ma'am," Morgan Phelps replied, his voice betraying a hint of surprise. It seemed odd that Hera was suddenly interested in someone she had never appeared to notice or care about. "I see. Leave me be for a while. I have errands to run," Hera said, then strode out of her office. Moments later, she left the building entirely. Half an hour later, Hera arrived at the hotel front desk. She flashed her black card and asked, "Please check the activity log for Mr. Sebastian Grimwald over the past few days." "Ma'am, Mr. Grimwald hasn't stayed here. He arrived on the first day, left with his suitcase shortly after, and hasn't returned since," the young woman answered. Hera's brows tightened. A flicker of irritation surfaced. She pulled out her phone and called his number. She had almost never done this before. Yet for the first time, no one answered. Her frown deepened. What kind of elaborate scheme had Sebastian set in motion? Chapter 8 He was here once?" Hera repeated. "Yes, ma'am." "Give me the spare keycard. I want to check the room." She moved with purpose and unlocked the door. What was that man planning now? Hera scanned the room. None of the hotel's amenities showed any signs of use. No evidence suggested anyone had lived here. It was true, then. Sebastian had stayed only briefly before leaving. But why had he come here at all? For his suitcase? Hera realized she had overlooked that his suitcase was gone. Then, her eyes fixed on a familiar laptop—hers. "There you are," she murmured. Her gaze shifted to something resting on top. A letter. The word "Farewell" was written on it. Its message was obvious. "So this is your latest stunt, Sebastian? No calls or texts, ignoring my calls, leaving a farewell letter, and then disappearing on me?" Hera sneered. "Pathetic." She tossed the letter into the bin without reading it. He could vanish all he wanted. Hera doubted he had the nerve to stay away forever. Besides, this worked in Bobby's favor too. She wanted Sebastian gone for now. Whether he holed up in the hotel or somewhere else made no difference. She pulled a chair from the table and started working on her laptop. … Hours passed. Dusk settled over the sky. Hera stood, stretched, and checked her phone. The only messages came from Edmund—covertly flirtatious texts. No sign of Sebastian. "He's really going all in on this?" Hera muttered. She ignored Edmund's texts and scrolled through her conversation with Sebastian. His last message was days old. Sebastian: [There's a hotel that's on fire! I have to help out!] Sebastian: [What would you like to have for dinner? I'll buy the ingredients from the grocers once I'm done with my assignment!] Sebastian: [Don't worry about me, okay?] The hotel fire was how Sebastian found out about Edmund and Bobby. After that, he stopped messaging her altogether. Hera hadn't replied to a single one of his texts anyway. Still, she felt strangely adrift. His concern, always tucked into those messages, had become a constant she didn't realize she'd come to expect. Without it, something felt off. She stared at her phone, growing increasingly irritated. "Whatever," she muttered. The screen went black. Her eyes drifted back to the farewell letter in the trash. Just a few hours ago, she hadn't cared what it said. Now, her curiosity swelled. "Fine. I'll bite. Let's see how much effort you've put into this latest charade," she grumbled, fishing the letter out of the bin. Sebastian's handwriting jumped out at her. As she read, her shock only deepened. [Hera, [I have made up my mind. You may disagree or argue about the timing with your religious obligations, but our relationship is over. [I have decided to step out of your life so you and your true love can be together…] "My… true love?!" Her face twisted in a grimace. "What does he know?!" Her mind raced to her laptop and the Discord app. Since no one else usually accessed her laptop, Hera never bothered to disable Discord's auto-launch feature when the system started. In other words, Sebastian had seen their conversation. Every single word. [Bobby is your biological son, isn't he? You had him with Edmund. [What I don't understand is why you went through the exhausting act of dating me, hiding things from me, and then enduring a marriage with me for half a decade. Wasn't it suffocating? Wasn't it tormenting? [From my side, you showed me how much of a fool I was to hold on to you for five years. I ran out of tears, but I wasn't crying for you—I was crying for myself. My heart ached for me. [As your ex-husband, I hate you. But as a firefighter, I have no regrets about saving your life and theirs. Now, I am a firefighter again. I have an assignment to carry out. [You can imagine I die on duty if you want, because no matter what happens, we will never see each other again. [Take care, Hera. [Farewell.] Hera's self-assurance vanished. The letter slipped from her fingers, and her mind went blank. Sebastian had seen their conversation. Worse, it was the very day she had attended Bobby's Parent-Teacher Conference. There was hardly anything he hadn't discovered. Sebastian's determination was unmistakable. His words struck her like a hammer pounding her chest. She felt suffocated, her throat tightening. When she finally regained control, she grabbed her phone and called him again. "Listen! This isn't what you think! Yes, I had some kind of relationship with Edmund in the past. But that doesn't mean I cheated after we married!" she babbled to herself as she waited for the call to connect. "How dare you throw this at me, Sebastian? You can't decide if the marriage is over on your own. This is a partnership! How dare you disrespect me like this?" She was panicking, but why? She hadn't done anything that counted as cheating. How could he just leave without a word, acting like some hotshot? Sebastian used to share everything with her. He always sought her counsel and opinion. Even knowing why he changed didn't make it acceptable. She remembered he had gone on a dangerous assignment. Now, he wasn't answering. Her panic grew. Her heart raced. "He shouldn't be offline this long. No mission lasts this long... Is he... still alive?" She kept calling, but none of her calls went through. She switched to calling her assistant. "Good evening, ma'am. How can I help?" "Morgan, search for any fire or natural disaster reports from the past few days. I need details on their severity and which city fire teams responded. Focus on the Beta Team—that's Sebastian's." Her heart pounded harder. "Do it quickly, Morgan. I want a report as soon as possible." "Understood." Morgan stared at his phone, confused. This was the second time today he'd seen his employer act strangely. She had never shown concern for fires or firefighting in the city before. He began pulling up information, muttering, "My boss is acting a little off, huh?" Chapter 9 Half an hour later, Hera received the report she had been waiting for. Morgan: [I found it. There hasn't been any fire in Astergard recently, but there's a wildfire in the mountains west of here. Reports say many firefighters from nearby towns have died trying to contain it, which is why Mr. Grimwald and his team were sent to assist.] Hera's face turned pale as she sprang from the bed. She trembled, her fingers shaking so violently that typing a reply became a struggle. Hera: [What is the current situation? Any casualties on his team?] Her emotions blurred into a suffocating haze. All she felt was a choking grip from this unknown fear. Morgan: [I'm not sure. No reliable updates yet. The wildfire is reportedly coming under control. Ms. Bishop, I'm confident Mr. Grimwald will be fine.] Hera closed her eyes, helpless. Only she knew Sebastian had shut off his phone long ago. She feared the tone in his farewell letter hinted he might have accepted this mission with a death wish. She reopened her eyes and texted Morgan. Hera: [Understood. Thank you. Send me the wildfire's location. I'm going there.] No matter their personal troubles, Sebastian remained her legal husband. She had the right to see him—alive or dead. Morgan: [Yes, ma'am. By the way, Mr. Castle made a reservation at a fine dining restaurant for tonight. He thought you had been too busy to answer his texts. Should I inform him?] Hera made one of her fastest decisions. Hera: [Tell him to cancel it. I have urgent business tonight.] Morgan: [Understood.] Even after the call ended, Hera's nerves did not settle. She could hardly wait for Morgan to send the location. Soon, she found herself speeding west on the freeway. Five minutes later, Morgan sent the coordinates with a warning to be careful. Hera didn't respond. She pressed the accelerator harder as her car raced forward. "You better not be dead, Sebastian. You can't just end this without a clear reason. I won't allow it," she muttered. The GPS estimated the trip would take an hour, but Hera arrived in 40 minutes. Anxiety tightened with every mile. Even from afar, she smelled smoke. As she approached, the charred forest floor and blackened trunks came into view. Soot and ash covered the ground. She could almost picture Sebastian's fate. Hera held her breath and pressed the pedal deeper. Finally, she reached the end of the road. She stepped out, her eyes darting nervously among the firetrucks and campsites. A few uniformed figures hurried about. 'This is it!' she thought and strode toward it. A few steps in, Hera heard people crying inside a tent. Her heart skipped a beat as she quickened her pace. 'I'm here now, Sebastian. You better be alive,' she thought, her worry tightening her chest. She reached the camp and faced a grim scene. Firefighters stood alongside ordinary people, all gathered around tents. Each group sobbed beside bodies covered with white sheets. She froze, her knees threatening to buckle as a chilling thought struck her. 'What if Sebastian lies beneath one of these sheets?' Her mind blanked under the weight of emotion. She refused to accept it. There was no way she would. Her eyes reddened. Being near death might tarnish her aura as an Awakenist, but she no longer cared. She began lifting every white sheet within reach. "Sebastian? Are you here?" She lifted one sheet. No. That one wasn't him either. Within minutes, she had revealed several corpses. None resembled Sebastian. Still, she did not relax—too many bodies remained, and hope felt fragile. As she moved from one body to the next, a young man returned to the camp carrying an injured teammate. His eyes locked on Hera. He froze. Why the hell was she here? I rubbed my eyes in disbelief. No, my vision was clear. It was Hera Bishop—my soon-to-be ex-wife. Was she here for me? I stayed in the corner, watching her check every face beneath the sheets. Her panic was overwhelming. I had never seen her this worried about me before. It felt as if all the coldness and indifference she had shown me over the years had never existed. For a moment, I thought maybe she still loved me. Did she still love me? I wanted to rush to her, to call out. But the moment I took a step forward, I stopped. In my mind, I saw her and Edmund standing on the stage in Bobby's classroom. I heard her spinning tall tales about their romantic journey. I saw them kiss. My heart stung, and my hope faded. There was no way she still cared for me. She was probably here to yell at me for wanting a divorce, since this time she was the one reacting to my decision. My excitement drained away. Her panic no longer moved me. I would leave her be. I had decided our relationship was over. There was no reason to look back now. Love or hate, her feelings no longer mattered. In a way, the husband who loved her died in that fire. I was his rebirth, and she would never be part of this new life. I turned away, left quietly, found a corner where she couldn't see me, and resumed my work. I wasn't even worried about my teammates recognizing her. Hera never attended any work events anyway. Who would know this stunning woman was my wife? I watched as grieving family members berated Hera for lifting the sheets off their loved ones. She left, forlorn and defeated. I looked away, uninterested in where she disappeared. Unbeknownst to me, Hera was nearing a breakdown in her car. Chapter 10 Hera could no longer hold back her emotions and burst into tears. "Sebastian, you bastard! How could you leave me like that?" She had been terrified. She feared none of the bodies belonged to Sebastian. Yet she feared even more what she would see when lifting the sheets and facing his face. Calmness or stoicism was impossible. She sat on pins and needles. Was he dead? Really dead? Years of practicing Awakenism had convinced Hera she had strong mental fortitude. This moment shattered that belief completely. She buried her head in the steering wheel and wept. Suddenly, her phone rang. Hera jolted upright and grabbed it. Could it be Sebastian? Her mind raced, making excuses for his silence. He was busy with his mission. He had no time or energy to update her. Of course. Maybe his phone was off because he couldn't charge it on the mountain. 'Either way,' she reassured herself mentally, 'Sebastian still loves you. He still holds you dear.' That had to be why he was calling the moment he could. Hera felt a flicker of hope. Then she glanced at the screen and saw it was just "Ed." "What?!" she cried in disbelief. Until now, nothing repulsed her more than seeing Sebastian's name flash on her screen. Edmund's name had always made her smile. Now the opposite was true. She wished it was Sebastian. Her phone rang again. Hera scanned the forest around her and closed her eyes wearily. She opened them, wiped away her tears, and composed herself. She started the car and answered, "Hi, Ed." "Ira! Why haven't you replied to my messages today? Are you okay?" Hera hesitated before replying, "I… I was busy at work. What's going on?" "Oh, I'm fine. Bobby kept pestering me to see you. I was at my wit's end! Haha. That's why I'm calling." He paused and asked gently, "I hope I'm not bothering you?" Before Hera could respond, Bobby snatched the phone. "Mommy! Where are you? Are you coming home? We miss you! Daddy planned to eat something good, but you're not here, so he's sad…" "But he brought the good stuff home! Will you eat with us?" Hera's eyebrows relaxed. She took a deep breath and smiled. "Oh, is that all?" she said, her voice brightening with effort. "Please tell Daddy I'm sorry, okay? Wait for me. I'll be home soon and we can have dinner together!" Bobby cheered. Edmund took back the phone. "Alright. Do you want me to pick you up?" "No, I'm fine." "Got it. Drive safely. I'll be waiting at home with Bobby." "I know," Hera replied softly. The call ended. So did her pretense. Her smile faded and her eyes darkened. Quickly, she called her assistant again. "Good evening, ma'am." "I need you to check the list of firefighters who died on duty during this event. See if… If Sebastian is among them," she said carefully. Morgan froze. "What?! Is it that serious? Give me a moment! I'll get the data as soon as I can." "It's not that urgent," Hera said softly and glanced out at the campsite through the window. "You can tell me tomorrow at work. I don't want to be disturbed tonight." "Understood, ma'am." Hera set the phone down. Without hesitation, she pressed the pedal and drove off. For an Awakenist, life came full of trials. The emotions that rose with them were just as much a part of the test as the hardship itself. Hera couldn't stop herself from feeling, but that didn't mean she had no control over how long those feelings ruled her. Staying there wouldn't help. Sebastian might still be out there, battling the fire. He might be avoiding her out of resentment. Or he might be lying among the bodies she hadn't been able to identify. She would have her answer by tomorrow. For tonight, she needed to focus on the time she still had with Bobby. … Albert narrowed his eyes at the car disappearing in the distance. He turned to me with a thoughtful look. "That car looks familiar, Grimwald. Seems like the one you have at home. Was that your wife?" My heart skipped a beat, but I forced a calm smile. "No, Captain Holst. That's not our car," I lied, shaking my head. "Huh. Maybe someone took a wrong turn," he muttered. "Did you tell her how you've been these past few days?" "I did. She knows I'm safe, Captain Holst." "Good. Our work here is almost done. I've heard the last part of the fire has been put out." He sighed with relief. "Thank God. Looks like we survived this battle. We'll regroup tomorrow and head home. I want to send every one of you straight back." My teammates cheered. They could finally go home. Everyone was overjoyed. Except me. I had no home to return to. I remembered Hera's departure and fell silent. How was I supposed to believe her? She had seemed panicked when looking for me, only to start smiling happily during her call. It had to be Edmund on the other end. I just knew it. I saw her pick up the call. It made me feel glum. The familiar pain I had come to know surged back in full force. I figured she came just to look around, like a tourist. This time, I buried the pain deep inside my chest and let nothing show on my face.