The front door had been open for several seconds before he managed to breathe. His adoptive mother stood there, staring at him, disbelief clouding her eyes as they slowly filled with tears. She pressed a hand to her chest and stepped back, then reached toward him as if afraid he might vanish.

  “Is it really you, my son?” Her voice wavered, already breaking. She looked like she couldn’t trust her own sight.

  “It’s really me, Mom. I came home. I came back to my family.” His own voice threatened to crack, emotion rising too fast for him to steady.

  Clara lunged forward, pulling him into a fierce embrace. Luke didn’t react. No perception field, no heightened agility, no stat in the world could help him here. He simply let himself be held.

  “My Luke,” she wept. “You came back to me.”

  Her grip was shockingly strong, stronger than he ever imagined she had in her. Maybe it was because he’d let his guard drop completely, but the way she clung to him felt like she was afraid he’d slip through her arms if she loosened even a little. She kissed the top of his head, sobbing so hard her words blurred into nothing. He wanted to hug her back, but she held him too tightly for him to move.

  “I missed you so much, my son,” she whispered, squeezing even harder. “Every day, every night, I never stopped thinking about you.”

  “I… I missed you too, Mom. All of you.”

  Luke realized tears were running down his face. He’d kept them locked inside for so long that now they fell freely, like a river surging over a cliff.

  Clara’s hands began to roam gently over him, checking him like she expected to find wounds.

  “It’s really you, isn’t it?” She pulled back enough to look him in the eyes. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”

  “I’m real,” he managed.

  Her smile trembled. She cupped his face, brushed his cheek with her thumb, then kissed his forehead before dragging him into another desperate embrace. Tears slid down her chin and fell onto him.

  “Where have you been, Luke?” she asked softly.

  He started to answer.

  “No… no, you don’t have to.” She wrapped her arms around him again, then met his eyes with sudden intensity. “Please, my son. Promise me you won’t leave me.”

  Even through her tears, her gaze was steady.

  “I won’t leave you, Mom. I promise.”

  “It was my fault, wasn’t it?” Her tears gathered again, spilling faster. “I’m sorry, Luke. I wasn’t a good mother.”

  “Y-you were a good mother,” he said, trying to calm her. “I was the one who… who wasn’t a good son.”

  “I should have tried harder. I know I should have.” Her breath hitched. “When I found your letter in your room the day you disappeared… the guilt nearly killed me. I realized then that you can feel dead even while you’re still alive.”

  Each self-accusation twisted in him, tightening like a knot. But he finally managed to hug her back.

  “Don’t leave me again, my boy. I only stayed in this world because I kept waiting for you. I always waited. And I’ll always be here for you.”

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  He didn’t know whether to find comfort in that promise or fear the weight behind her words, the quiet implication of what might have happened if she hadn’t kept waiting.

  “M-mom…?” a small voice murmured behind her.

  Clara and Luke turned toward the hallway. A little girl stood there, hair a messy curtain of dark strands, rubbing one eye with the back of her hand. She wore green pajamas and looked like she’d just woken up.

  “Lillian,” Clara whispered, staring at her. “Y-your brother… he came back to us.”

  The moment the girl saw Luke, she froze. Her whole body went rigid, like she’d turned to stone. She didn’t seem to believe what she was seeing; she even rubbed her eyes again, harder this time.

  “Lillian?” Luke hurried toward her and crouched down so they were eye to eye.

  She stayed stiff, staring at him, tears slowly filling her eyes.

  “It’s me, Lillian,” he murmured, trying to break through that silent shock. He wanted to hug her, desperately, but had no idea how she’d react.

  She opened her mouth as if to speak… and instead burst into loud, shaking sobs. She stood there crying, just looking at him.

  “Lillian… can I hug you?” he asked.

  Still crying, she nodded, maybe believing she was dreaming, maybe too sleepy to trust her own eyes. Luke wrapped his arms around her carefully, mindful of his strength, afraid of crushing the tiny seven-year-old who felt impossibly fragile in his arms.

  “Brother,” she wept, clinging to him with all the strength she had, trying to squeeze him as if afraid he might vanish again.

  “I’m right here, Lillian.” He lifted her with him as he stood.

  “Please, brother… don’t disappear again,” she cried. “I love you. Always.”

  Those words hit harder than any blow he had ever taken. More painful, more devastating, even though his HP didn’t drop by a single point.

  'Damn it, Luke… why did you ever leave this family?' Artemis murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

  ***

  Luke had made it inside the house, though it took a while before he could take even a few steps without being pulled into another hug from Clara or Lillian. When he finally reached the living room, he managed to talk with his mother, doing his best to convince her he wasn’t going anywhere ever again.

  Lillian was still in his arms. She hadn’t let go once. He kept running a hand over her hair to soothe her. The crying eventually stopped, leaving her clinging silently to him. She didn’t ask more questions, didn’t even shift. She just stayed there, holding on while he tried to piece together what had happened while he was gone and explain, at least a little, what he’d been through.

  “It was really hard for us…” Clara murmured. Her face was bright with relief, but deep shadows clung under her eyes. She was thinner too, noticeably so. Different from the last time he’d seen her. And he knew that was on him.

  “The first few days were…” She trailed off, wiping the corner of her eye before lowering her gaze. “Then it got worse. Every noise outside, every car driving by, I thought you’d walk through the door. I even started sleeping on the couch, just so I wouldn’t miss you if you came back at night. I didn’t know if you had accepted the system or if you’d run away from home. I put your picture everywhere I could.”

  Her voice broke, and she began to cry again. Luke held her hand gently.

  “I’m back, Mom,” he said softly. “I wanted to come home the very first day I disappeared, but… things went wrong. And every time I tried, it felt like I ended up even farther away. But I made it. I really made it back.”

  Lillian squeezed him tighter.

  “I don’t know what you went through or where you were,” Clara whispered. “But I’m grateful you came home, my son.” She rose from the couch and kissed his forehead. “And thank you… for calling me Mom.”

  She walked toward the kitchen, gathering the water glasses from the coffee table as she went.

  Luke ran a hand gently along Lillian’s back. “You know I’m not going to disappear the moment you let go, right?”

  She shook her head hard. She wasn’t letting go of him for anything.

  “I’ll make whatever you want for lunch,” Clara called out, already slipping into that anxious, busy tone. “And I need to call your father and your brother.”

  Luke stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen with Lillian still clinging to him, her arms tight around his neck.

  “You don’t have to worry about lunch, Mom,” he told her. “Just take it easy.”

  “N-no, I have to make something special for you,” she insisted, sounding suddenly energized as she hurried to the fridge and yanked it open.

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