Chapter 40: Snow

"Don't worry, Aaron is great. And he knew you'd come back without your memories. He knows it'll take time. But we still hope to rebuild a family one day. Well... as long as we don't wait for you to max out your power, otherwise we're in for another millennium," Argy whispered with a mischievous, almost childlike smile.

His voice carried a disarming lightness, as if he were talking about waiting just a few days. With him, everything seemed simple.

Blanche blinked, still overwhelmed by the flood of unreal information.

And as if to offer her a welcome escape, the mission window appeared in front of her.

Acquired Stats:

Strength +167

Agility +173

Speed +164

Wisdom +158

Intelligence +159

Drain — Level 4

Flight — Level 4

Carnage — Level 3

Rest — Level 4

Swimming — Level 2

Aura — Level 4

Fifth Level: The East

Objective: You must rid the world of vermin. Ten vermin.

Time: No time limit.

Reward: One special skill and one regular skill.

Blanche stared at the lines in silence, her mind trying to latch onto something rational. The numbers. The words. A mission. It was concrete. Structured. Almost reassuring.

Argy tilted his head to the side, hands behind his back, gently rocking on his heels.

"Your mission?" he asked curiously, like a child eager to hear a story. "No problem, I'm coming with you. It's time I returned the favor. You've come with me more than once. And besides, we have so much to talk about! We'll make the most of it on the way."

He paused, then his smile widened even more.

"But first, the others want to see you. Ever since Nicky told them we had a newcomer at home. And no, they don't know about you, me, and Dad: they arrived after you disappeared. We preferred to keep that to ourselves."

He leaned slightly closer to her, conspiratorial.

" Oh, and you can breathe: Dad isn't here yet."

Then he added with a dramatic grimace:

"And sorry in advance: Glen's in the kitchen. It's salad for everyone."

Blanche froze for a second.

"Wait... she whispered. Would you happen to know what my name is?"

Argy blinked, genuinely surprised, then almost burst out laughing.

"Well, yeah! I'm the one who chose your name, just like you gave me mine."

He placed a hand on his chest, proud.

"You called me Argent, because of my hair... and I called you Neige, because I found you in the middle of a snowstorm."

Neige.

Snow White. Seriously?

She briefly closed her eyes.

It could have been worse than a children's fairy tale heroine.

Argy jumped back up, unable to stay still.

" Shall we go?"

Blanche stared at him. Everything in her screamed to stay. To run. To deny.

But he was still there, waiting for her. Patient. Smiling. As if everything were normal.

She let out a groan and lay back down for a second, her body collapsing onto the bed as if it still refused to accept reality. The mattress caught her exhaustion without any particular comfort, yet she clung to it as though it were the only stable thing left in that moment. She only wanted one thing: to stay there, motionless, suspended outside of time, sheltered from everything waiting for her beyond the door.

But even that thought already felt like avoidance. She knew it. Staying would only delay the inevitable, like trying to hold back a wave with bare hands.

Married.

The word imposed itself without warning, cold and final, as if carved directly behind her eyelids. Married to a man she didn’t even know, a face still abstract, a life reduced to a decision made elsewhere...

And it wasn’t Kiyan.

That certainty, sharper than the rest, pierced through her chest with a silent brutality. She didn’t even need to fully name him in her mind to feel what that absence tore open. It wasn’t him. Never him. And perhaps that was the worst part of it all.

She groaned louder this time, no longer trying to hold the sound back. It escaped her like a crack breaking open, a mixture of frustration, dull pain, and sheer helplessness. Her fingers clenched in the fabric for a moment, as if she might find purchase there on something that was already slipping entirely out of reach.

The silence of the room did not respond. It simply existed around her, unyielding, while everything inside her searched for an exit that did not exist.

"I need to go to the bathroom first. Just a few minutes."

"No problem! "Argy replied immediately. "We'll wait for you at the table."

Then, more softly:

" Thanks for coming back."

She nodded vaguely.

"Thanks for the information... I think?" she muttered.

As she stood up, he added with a big smile:

"By Odin, I missed you so much! But I'll warn you: I'm leaving you alone today. Tomorrow, you're getting hugs and kisses. No escaping it."

Blanche was left speechless.

"Just today, huh?"

He gave her a wink and left the room without answering.

The locker room was vast, cold, functional. Rows of dark wooden benches, slightly dented metal lockers, a lingering smell of soap and iron.

Folded military outfits rested on the benches with varying degrees of care: dark camo pants reinforced at the knees, thick black jackets with solid seams, training gloves worn down by hours of exercise. Some sleeves were rolled up, revealing the tension of muscles in motion.

Everything breathed discipline... but also effort.

Distant laughter. Male voices.

Blanche hesitated for a second, then walked to a sink and plunged her head under the water.

The cold stole her breath, but she stayed there, eyes closed, letting the shock bring her back to herself.

This was real.

All of this... was real.

She briefly looked at her reflection—still her, and yet different—then gave up on a full shower.

Too many people.

Too much unknown.

She took a deep breath and stepped out.