Chapter 39: Mom ?!

Blanche opened her eyes in the dimness of her new room. Her vision took a few seconds to adjust to the darkness, then to the harsh daylight filtering through a small, high window—narrow, almost prison-like, as if it had been carved more to let air in than to offer any kind of view.

The room was austere. Too austere.

Rough stone walls, cold and bare, without the slightest decoration. No paintings, no curtains, not even an interesting crack to stare at. The bed beneath her creaked faintly under her weight, covered with a coarse sheet that smelled overly clean, almost aggressively so. A roughly carved wooden table stood in one corner, paired with a wobbly chair. No personal belongings. Nothing that suggested a human being actually lived here.

It was a room without a soul. A forgotten room.

"Finally!" a voice rang out, full of warmth and relief, echoing through the large space.

The contrast was so abrupt she blinked.

She turned her head... and froze.

A guy stood at the foot of the bed, legs set apart as if he owned the place—or worse, as if he always had. He stared at her with intense black eyes beneath a sharp military cut framing silver-white hair that caught the morning light and threw it back almost harshly, cutting through the coldness of the walls.

He was smiling. Not politely. Not reserved.

A real smile. Wide. Bright. Overflowing.

Almost too alive for such a dead room.

His aura, pure white, vibrated around him, streaked with black and edged with gray—like an impossible blend of light and storm. And yet... there was something childlike about him. In the slight tilt of his head. In the way he looked at her without filter, without restraint, as if every emotion passed straight through his eyes.

Like a child finally seeing someone they love again.

"What do you mean, 'finally'?" she asked, wary, pushing herself up on her arms as the sheet slipped slightly off her shoulders.

"I've been waiting for you for almost a century. So yeah—finally."

He climbed onto the bed without the slightest hesitation, stretching out fully with a satisfied sigh, as if he were returning to a familiar place. He propped his head on his elbow, boots dangling off the edge, and watched her with an enthusiasm that was almost unsettling.

Like a child who couldn't sit still... trapped in an adult's body.

"A century?"

"'Dark mage equals Time power equals time travel equals me, Argy know you since long time.'"

Blanche blinked. Once. Twice.

Her brain seemed to glitch.

"Uh... okay."

"You sure?" he shot back, dead serious, as if his explanation had been perfectly clear.

"No."

He burst out laughing. Not a restrained laugh—a full, bright one that echoed off the cold walls and, for a brief moment, seemed to warm the entire room. He took a deep breath, as if even breathing was a source of joy, his eyes slightly damp—with happiness, pure and simple.

Then, with almost studious focus, he straightened a bit.

"You're a dark mage with Time powers. One day, you'll level up so much you'll be able to travel into the past. And that's when you'll meet me for the first time! Clearer now?"

"No contest," she grumbled, her head spinning slightly.

"Welcome home, Mom."

"Mom?!" Blanche choked.

The word exploded in the room.

She stared at him, eyes wide, feeling all the color drain from her face. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to anchor herself in reality. Bad idea. Nothing felt real.

"Yep!" he said, beaming. "You found me when I barely reached your waist. Eight, maybe nine years old. No memories, like all of us. You took me in and raised me for about fifteen years."

He was speaking fast. Too fast. With that raw, unfiltered excitement.

"You found this place—" he tapped the mattress lightly, as if indicating the whole room "—and turned it into a refuge for me and the others. Without you, I would've died a long time ago. You saved my life more times than I can count, Mom."

Blanche stayed frozen.

The words piled up. Collided. Failed to land anywhere.

"You know my father too—Aaron," he continued, his smile softening, almost shy this time. "If you only knew how much we missed you... Even if we knew that when we saw you again, you'd have forgotten everything. Because our past... is your future."

A strange silence fell.

Heavy. Absurd.

"Why do I feel like I should apologize?" she murmured, completely overwhelmed. "Wait... if I'm your 'mother' and your father is Aaron...?"

"And yep!" he said, almost proudly. "Sorry to break it to you like this, but you're a married woman with a kid. Congratulations!"

"What?!"

That was it.

Her mind short-circuited. Completely.

Everything blurred. Words lost meaning. Emotions stopped following. It was like trying to pour into a glass already full—everything overflowed, and nothing stayed.

She remained there, motionless, staring into nothing, as reality slid over her like water over frozen glass.

And in the middle of that empty, cold, lifeless room...

Argy still radiated, sitting on her bed, like a living anomaly in a world that made absolutely no sense.