Raiden trudges back to his room, his shoulders drooping and his face downturned. He didn't mean to act that way, and he didn't mean to insult Raia. His chest continues to throb in pain as guilt piles up like mountains, burying him alive. Intense emotions are swirling inside him, and he no longer understands them. He has no idea where those emotions are coming from. They're so heavy that he can't ignore them.

Why am I feeling like this?

When he opens the door to the room, two pairs of worried eyes meet him in an instant, as if they have been waiting for him.

"Tell me, brother," Raiden says, trying to keep his voice steady. "Is it so wrong to wish for the salvation of all souls? Is compassion a weakness?"

Cyrus's jaw tightens as he takes in the boy's appearance as if he wants to do or say something to console him, but he maintains an indifferent expression. "Your emotions, Kara. It's unbecoming to a disciple."

Raiden averts his gaze, but he doesn't regret saying those words. That may sound ridiculous, but he doesn't care because that wish is the only thing keeping him alive; the only thing that makes him feel human. But . . . .

"Kara, to be a savior, you must also be a destroyer."

Raiden clenches his fists as determination surges within him. He will save every soul, even if it means destroying them. That is his goal, something he must accomplish in order to retain his humanity. Because that is what he is and must be—a savior and a destroyer.

"I will get stronger," Raiden says, his eyes downcast. "I will reach the highest divine level of my Blessing so that I can save every soul from the darkness. I'll get stronger until I can protect myself on my own." He pauses for a moment before continuing. "So Raia won't have to heal me again."

Cyrus's expression softens, but he remains silent. Instead, he speaks to Sonnet without looking at her. "Sonnet, go get Nathan and Raia. We'll leave as soon as I make the necessary phone calls." He gently pats Raiden's head as he sweeps past.

"I have faith in you," Cyrus whispers. He walks down the corridor, not looking back.

Raiden's eyes widen slightly, almost tearfully, and his mouth curves into a slight smile. When he lifts his head, he sees Sonnet looking at him with a motherly smile, and warmth fills his chest.

***

A palpable tension pervades the train compartment. Raia and Raiden are sitting across from each other, grimly staring out the window. Nathan, Cyrus, and Sonnet give them worried looks from time to time. Since leaving town, the two have been silent.

Unable to ignore Nathan's lingering gaze, Raiden turns away from the window and faces the man sitting next to him.

"What's up?" Raiden says.

Nathan quirks an eyebrow at him and jerks his head in the direction of Raia.

Raiden looks at Raia, who is still staring out the window. Raia is right; instead of being grateful, he insulted her. He should not have attacked her in that manner. Maybe he'll learn to control his emotions soon.

"Raia," he utters in a quiet voice.

Raia doesn't move, and her eyes don't even blink. After a minute of awkward silence, she finally turns her head and meets his eyes. Raiden goes slightly rigid at her cold look, but quickly recovers his composure.

"I just wanted to apologize for my recent behavior," Raiden says, almost in hushed tones. "I didn't mean to insult you. But . . . I'm extremely grateful. Thank you for healing me."

Raia stares at him for a few seconds, unblinking. Then she lowers her gaze and nods before looking out the window again.

Raiden blinks, then his lips curl into a smile.

Nathan pats him on the shoulder with a smile on his face. Cyrus and Sonnet are both beaming as they look at him.

Returning their smiles, Raiden sighs and leans against the seat, allowing the train to take him away from the place where he nearly lost himself.

Or the place where he has finally found himself.

***

"Why me? I'm a busy man," Loki whines. He plumps himself down on the fluffy sofa and takes a long pull on his wine.

His response must have infuriated the girl sitting on the sofa across from him, as she suddenly jumps out of her seat and approaches him, her footsteps clip-clopping against the polished floorboards. She looks young, no more than twelve years old, and dressed in a long black gown with ruffles and laces. Her hair is the color of a night sky, flowing down her knees in loose waves and framing her entire body. The sliver of light coming from the lanterns and the crystal chandelier above them barely illuminates her features.

Amidst the dimly lit surrounding, she is reminiscent of an eerily cute doll.

"All you do is sit around and drink wine. Stop whining and start obeying Master Karma!" Tallulah, the petite girl, says as she stands before him with a deadly glare.

Loki looks up at her and purses his lips, dropping the empty bottle on the sofa in a fit of rage. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and crosses his legs as he sweeps his gaze over the burning fire in the fireplace adjacent to the grand wooden staircase, keeping his blazing rage at bay before returning his gaze to her.

He raises an eyebrow. "What? Have some problem with that, Tallulah?"

Tallulah pouts and glares at him, the fury in her sapphire eyes increasing. "And please address me as Tally, not Tallulah!"

Loki's brows descend like a storm. He'd returned from Gerland this morning, and it had been a week since his meeting with the two Aragons. His hopes of returning to this mansion for a peaceful rest were dashed in an instant when Karma summoned him just as he lay his body on his bed.

Much to his chagrin, Tallulah also joined the discussion when it was supposed to be just him and Karma. Her presence at this meeting has become a pain in the neck. He's already predicted that the dollish Blood Demon won't be able to keep her mouth shut.

"Lazy? Have you forgotten I just came from Gerland? Annoying doll."

Tallulah's nostrils flare. "Y-you!"

When she raises her leg to kick him, a clone of Loki appears in front of her and punches her in the stomach, knocking her backward.

Tallulah lets out a startled gasp of pain.

A tall man descends the staircase and enters the large living room. He reaches out his arm and catches Tallulah before she crashes into the wall and destroys the old framed paintings that hang on it. He wears a black hooded cloak and an eye patch. His right eye is golden and sparkles brightly in the dark. The dim glow of the interior further obscures his features, making him appear to be nothing more than a silhouette.

Tallulah looks up at him before glaring at Loki. "H-he punched me! How dare he hurt me!" She raises her gaze to the hooded figure once more. "Chaos, the damn bastard punched me!"

Chaos heaves a sigh and turns to face Loki, a calm expression on his face. Loki's clone, who was standing near the couch, fades away in a puff of smoke.