The backyard was very simple. It had a small patch of green grass. A wooden fence surrounded the property. The sky above the Iron Rose District was entirely dark. A few bright stars shined through the thin clouds. The neighborhood was totally quiet. The distant, chaotic noise of the city center could not reach this peaceful place.
Brandon did not walk toward the wooden gate. He did not check any hinges. He stood right in the middle of the grass. He turned around to face his son.
Ken leaned against the wooden railing of the patio. He slouched his posture completely. He pulled a wrapped piece of strawberry candy from his pocket. He unwrapped it slowly. The plastic wrapper made a soft, crinkling sound in the quiet yard. He popped the candy into his mouth. He chewed it casually.
"So," Ken mumbled lazily. He tilted his head to the side. "Are we going to fix a gate, or are we just standing here to enjoy the cold breeze? Because I forgot my jacket. And shivering burns way too many calories."
Brandon looked at him. The gray hair at his temples caught the dim moonlight. The deep lines on his face looked much harsher in the shadows. He did not scold Ken for making a joke. He did not tell him to stand up straight.
Brandon stared directly into Ken's dark, sleepy eyes.
The silence stretched between them for a long moment. It was not an awkward silence. It was the silence of two people who understood each other completely without needing to speak a single word.
Brandon took a slow, deep breath. He let the air out quietly.
"I watched the news broadcast today," Brandon said. His voice was incredibly calm, but it held a profound, serious undertone.
Ken chewed his candy. He did not change his lazy expression. "Yeah. The news anchors were very loud. They yelled a lot about the Bluemoon Kingdom. The whole world is panicking. It is a massive diplomatic mess."
Brandon did not look away. He kept his eyes locked firmly on his son. He knew the news anchors were panicking. He knew the public was terrified of the dark magic and the toxic radiation weapon. He knew the entire continent was on the brink of absolute war.
But Brandon also knew something else. He knew something that the news anchors did not know. He knew something that the Emperor of Belmontia did not know.
Brandon stepped slightly closer. He lowered his voice. It was a private, highly guarded conversation.
"I didn't expect Bluemoon to fall like that," Brandon stated seriously.
The words hung in the cool night air. It was a simple sentence. But it carried a massive, undeniable weight. It was not a casual comment about a tragic event. It was a very specific, deeply knowing observation.
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Ken stopped chewing his candy.
The goofy, lazy smile completely vanished from his face. The slouch left his shoulders instantly. He stood up perfectly straight. His sleepy, half-closed eyes opened fully. They turned incredibly sharp, cold, and entirely focused.
The mask of the lazy, complaining slacker dropped completely. The hidden, terrifying presence of the Sovereign did not emerge. He did not summon his black cloak or his glowing purple eye. He just stood there as his true self. A young man who carried the immense, crushing weight of the entire world on his back.
Ken looked directly back at his father. He did not lie. He did not make a silly joke about anime tropes. He did not pretend he was just a useless servant who hid behind rocks.
He answered with absolute, equal seriousness.
"I tried," Ken responded.
Two words. A simple, profound confession. It held the weight of the massive, apocalyptic battles he had fought in the shadows. It held the exhaustion of managing the elite spirits. It held the quiet frustration of watching the corrupt politicians manipulate the timeline. He had sent Karna. He had tried to stop the Black Magicians. He had tried to protect the innocent people. But the enemy had found a microscopic loophole in the guard schedules. The tragedy had happened anyway.
Brandon did not ask for details. He did not ask about the dark magic. He did not ask how Ken was involved.
Brandon just looked at his son. His eyes were full of a quiet, immense understanding. He saw the heavy burden Ken carried. He saw the absolute truth.
"I know," Brandon replied softly.
---
Ken Eliot sat on the large living room sofa. He slouched his shoulders completely. His navy blue suit pants looked very wrinkled. His white shirt hung completely untucked over his belt. He did not wear a tie. His black hair stuck up in wild, messy spikes. He held a massive bag of barbecue potato chips in his lap.
He reached into the bag. He pulled out a large, salty chip. He tossed the chip high into the air. He opened his mouth. He caught the chip perfectly on his tongue.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
He chewed loudly. He let out a long, happy sigh.
"This is the absolute best," Ken mumbled to himself. He stared at the ceiling. "No running. No dodging magic spells. Just me and my snacks. I could stay on this couch forever. This is exactly like a relaxing beach episode in an anime. We just need some ocean waves and a volleyball."
Naomi walked into the living room. She wore simple dark pants and a gray shirt. Her bright red hair was tied back in a neat ponytail. She did not scowl at him. She did not yell about his untucked shirt. She smiled a very warm, fond smile.
She walked over to the sofa. She sat down right next to him. She playfully bumped her shoulder against his arm.
"You are always eating, Ken," Naomi teased gently. Her green eyes sparkled with genuine affection. "You are going to turn into a potato chip. Pass the bag. I want some."
Ken grinned a goofy, relaxed grin. He handed her the bag of chips. "I am perfectly fine turning into a potato chip. It sounds like a very peaceful life. You just sit in a bag and wait. Zero cardio involved."
Naomi laughed a bright, happy laugh. She took a chip and ate it. She felt completely relaxed around him. He always made her feel safe and comfortable.
The rest of the 13th Unit was scattered around the cozy room. The morning was incredibly peaceful.
Laxmi sat cross-legged on the large rug. She tossed a tiny orange spark of fire between her hands. She grinned wildly. "A beach episode sounds amazing! I could roast fish right on the sand! Let us go to the ocean today!"
"We cannot go to the ocean," Sayma stated politely. She sat at the dining table. She pushed her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose. She held a neat notebook. "We must stay at the estate. We are on standby. The Upper Council might send an update soon."
Zinia stretched her strong arms near the window. She cracked her knuckles. "Sayma is right. We should rest our muscles. We fought very hard recently."
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