CHAPTER 236: CHAPTER 236

January 8th

It was a deceptively clear day, the sky bright and untroubled. Whitney Forbes received the news from her parents in a stark, hurried phone call that left her reeling.

Raphael Forbes had died.

No details, no explanations—just the blunt fact that hit like a physical blow.

She quickly wrapped up a meeting she was in the middle of, her mind already miles away, and slid into the back seat of the family car that pulled up, joining her parents in stunned silence.

Sitting there with her parents, the engine humming softly as we pulled away, she felt this strange numbness settle in. Then, out of nowhere, she thought about Angela. It was only a couple of weeks ago that she’d been so excited, buzzing with hope because her brother had finally woken up after all those years. And now this...

It wasn’t her story, not something she was directly tangled in, but her heart sank all the same, twisting with a sharp ache that she couldn’t shake. It was like empathy had a way of sneaking up on you, making the pain feel personal even when it wasn’t. The car ride stretched on, the world outside blurring by, but her mind kept circling back to Angela—wondering how she’d handle it, and wishing there was something she could do.

"Let’s get off," Matthias, Whitney’s father, said quietly as the car pulled up to the Forbes family funeral home, his voice pulling her from her swirling thoughts.

Whitney followed her parents out of the car, stepping onto the quiet grounds. No reporters dared to swarm the place—out of respect, fear, or some unspoken rule—so the venue felt isolated, almost eerily peaceful, with only the distant rustle of leaves breaking the silence. It was a lonely spot for such a heavy moment, the building standing like a somber monument amid the almost empty lot.

As they headed toward the entrance, Whitney paused, her eyes catching on a figure lingering under the shade of a nearby tree. It was Remillia Lockhart, standing there with a sad, distant expression, just staring at the funeral home like she was caught between worlds. ’Why isn’t she going in?’ Whitney wondered, a flicker of curiosity pulling at her. She took a step toward Remillia, feeling an urge to check on her, but before she could get far, her mother’s voice cut through.

"Whitney, what are you doing?"

"Yes, I’m coming, Mom," Whitney replied, glancing back at Remillia one more time—her face etched with that quiet sorrow—before turning away and following her parents inside. The door closed behind them with a soft thud, leaving the questions hanging in the air.

As soon as Whitney stepped inside, she scanned the room, her eyes landing on Angela almost immediately. There she was, sitting in a daze on a simple chair in the corner, her eyes hollow and filled with a despair that cut deep. Angela had always been the bright, cheerful type—the one who lit up any room with her energy—but seeing her like this was heartbreaking, a side of her that Whitney had never imagined.

Swallowing a sigh, Whitney made her way over and sat down beside her. "Angela."

"Whitney... you came," Angela replied, trying to force a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It only made her look more fragile, her lifeless gaze on the verge of breaking into tears, though she was holding it all in with everything she had. Whitney understood that about her—Angela was the kind of person who fought to stay strong, even when the world was falling apart.

"Wait for me here," Whitney said softly, standing up to join her parents in front of Raphael’s portrait and urn. She offered a small, quiet prayer, her hands folded as she whispered words of peace for the brother she’d known through Angela’s stories. Her father was already deep in conversation with Angela’s father, their voices low and grave, while her mother mingled with the few guests, offering quiet condolences.

Once she was done, Whitney returned to Angela’s side and gently took her hands, feeling the coldness in them. "Where are the others?"

"I didn’t want to tell them, so don’t call them here," Angela said, her voice desperate, like the words were a shield she was clinging to.

But Whitney couldn’t shake the image of Remillia outside, standing alone under that tree. "Even if you say that... Remillia’s already out there."

"Remillia?" Angela’s tone sharpened, a flicker of anger breaking through her numbness.

"Yes," Whitney confirmed, sensing the storm brewing.

"How dare she come here when I specifically asked her to protect my brother..." Angela mumbled, her fists clenching.

"But she—" Whitney tried to explain, to defend her friend, but Angela cut her off.

"I’ll be back soon," Angela said, standing abruptly and heading for the door, her steps heavy with unresolved pain.

Whitney watched her go, a knot tightening in her stomach.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

When I opened my eyes, I was staring at a ceiling that felt totally unfamiliar. Well, not completely strange, but it was more luxurious than anything I’d ever seen—dull shades of black and gold mixed together, giving off this elegant vibe that screamed money and power.

"You’re up?" a voice cut through my daze. I turned my head to see Kairos sitting in a chair right beside the bed, as calm as ever, sipping his tea like it was just another day.

He looked at me over the rim of his cup. "You’ve been out for a week."

Those words hit me like a jolt, and I shot up straight, my heart racing. A whole week? So much could have gone wrong in that time—news spreading, people asking questions, everything falling apart. But Kairos just sat there, unflappable as always.

"Don’t worry," he said, like he could read my mind. "The cover-up was perfect."

There were a million things I wanted to ask him—about what happened after I blacked out, about everything—but the words stuck in my throat.

He just watched me for a moment, then gave this light smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. "The funeral is starting today."

"Oh, I see..." I managed to say, my voice coming out quieter than I intended.

Raphael’s funeral.

Did I even have the right to show up there, after everything that went down? I clenched my teeth, the guilt twisting in my stomach like a knot.

"By the way, your dagger is here," Kairos said, nodding toward the bedside table.

I reached over and activated my Spectral Seal, feeling the familiar rush of mana as it flowed into the weapon. It shifted smoothly, transforming into a simple necklace that I slipped around my neck. "...So, where are we, anyway?" I asked, trying to shake off the haze in my head.

"That’s quite an interesting weapon," Kairos remarked, not even batting an eye. He’d seen enough of my tricks by now not to be surprised.

"I got it from a friend," I said, keeping it vague.

This is my mansion," he explained, gesturing around the room with a casual wave. "It’s on an island in the Pacifica Oceana. And yeah, the whole island belongs to me."

"Wow, that’s amazing," I replied, exaggerating a bit because I knew he liked that kind of thing. It felt weird, making small talk in a place like this.

"You can stay here if you want," he added, out of nowhere, like he was offering me a cup of coffee.

I shook my head, glancing around. "This place... it’s way too far from the city. How do you even get back there anyway?"

"Hmm? You don’t have a Personal Portal?" he asked, raising an eyebrow like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Yep, he was totally bragging—subtle as a brick.

Personal Portals were basically a luxury for the elite, right? I remembered there was one in Aeonia, reserved for VIPs only, but honestly, why bother when I had Macaron to whisk me around wherever I needed? He was way more reliable than some fancy technology.

"I’d like to go home now," I said, keeping my tone calm.

"...You can stay a bit longer," he insisted, like he was trying to convince himself as much as me.

"My pets are waiting," I shot back, picturing Macaron and Glacier probably causing chaos back at my place.

"Then we can bring them here," he said, as if that solved everything.

"Boss," I said, giving him that look that meant drop it.

"Alright," he relented, finally standing up and leading me out. The island was buzzing with activity, attendants scurrying around, but none of them were human—just a bunch of robots, all polished and efficient. It felt a little eerie, like a high-tech ghost town.

"It’s a lonely place," I said without thinking, the words slipping out as we walked.

"Sometimes, you need to get used to loneliness," he replied, his voice thoughtful. "But I guess that might change soon."

I glanced at him, wondering what he meant, but decided not to push it. We kept going, heading through a massive room where a portal stood in the center. It was smaller than what the portal stations usually have.

"Do I just have to go in?" I asked, glancing back at him.

"Yes, it’s set to connect to Salos, but I’ll come with you," he said, pulling out his phone to make a quick call. The portal hummed to life, its edges shimmering with that familiar magical energy. "I’ve got some business to handle in Eldoria."

"Shall we?" He held out his hand, and I took it as we stepped through together.

The transition was quick—a rush of that disorienting pull—and when we emerged, we were in Salos’ Portal Station. It was bustling, but we took the VIP-only path, slipping through without any hassle. We stopped at a crossroad, the paths splitting off in different directions. His destination was Eldoria, and mine was Monfort.

"I’ll see you later," he said, giving a nod that felt almost casual.

"Yes," I replied, keeping it short as I watched him head off before turning my own way. I stepped up to the glowing arch, closed my eyes, and let the magic wash over me. When I opened them again, I was back in the Monfort Portal Station.

I headed straight out without a second thought, my feet carrying me to the nearest convenience store. I grabbed a pack of pepperoni grilled cheese sandwich and a bottle of Pocari Sweat, figuring I needed something quick to settle my stomach after being asleep for a whole week.

Once outside, I ducked into an abandoned alleyway for a bit of privacy. I activated Noblesee Codex, the ethereal pages flickering to life in front of me, and pinpointed the Forbes funeral home’s location on the map. It wasn’t far, but I wanted to get there fast. I slipped off my bracelet, feeling it shift and transform into my motorcycle. Swinging a leg over, I revved the engine and hit the road, weaving through the city streets toward the funeral home, the wind rushing past as I pushed ahead.