After that terrifying night, everything slowly went back to how it used to be.
Many still didn't understand what had truly happened—having passed out mid-chaos—and remained skeptical about the tale of spiritual forces at play.
The engagement between Al and Nayala Valendra was officially called off.
The decision was met with quiet relief by most of the Virellano family members—though none of them openly said a word about it.
The next morning, the Valendra family left the Virellano residence without much fuss.
Nayala, who had already recovered, left for the capital with Lysha, Al's sixth sister, to continue their studies at Indorosia University.
Their departure brought a new atmosphere to the house—quieter, more spacious.
Sarah, the second sister known for her sharp tongue and knack for creating tension, also left for the capital to work on her latest film.
With Sarah gone, the Virellano home became more peaceful than ever for Al.
Now only Edward, Sandra, Aurielle, Vianna, David, and Al remained in the house.
Al knew… this peace wouldn't last.
---
A week passed.
That day was the fourteenth of April—a morning that carried with it a warmth and serenity that seemed to linger in the air.
Inside his room, Al sat cross-legged, his fingers pressed lightly against each other in a meditative seal. His upper body was bare, revealing the calm composure of someone immersed in cultivation and introspection.
Around him, faint streams of multicolored energy shimmered like fragments of mist, rising and falling with the rhythm of his breathing.
After some time, he slowly opened his eyes. As always, a dark, tar-like substance seeped from his pores—a mixture of residual energy and impurities purged from both his body and soul.
Al exhaled deeply, lifting his hands before his eyes. He turned them over, scrutinizing them with quiet thought.
"Not much of a change. Huff... I suppose this is the limit for now," he murmured softly.
He pushed himself up to his feet, stretching his body as if trying to shake off the stiffness left by prolonged meditation.
"Uwahh... huff... even the imagery realm refuses to open for me anymore. I really need to figure out how to enter that place again," he muttered lazily, reaching for his clothes and slipping them on without much enthusiasm.
Walking toward the window, he let his gaze drift toward the main residence.
The silhouettes of David's shadow troops were still there, vigilant and unwavering in their surveillance of him. And yet, the formidable figure behind them had never once revealed himself.
"Do they also have some sort of restriction placed upon them?" Al wondered aloud, his fingers brushing thoughtfully against his chin.
"Hmm... who knows. But that means all this time the ones tailing me and watching over me at school were David's subordinates, not my father."
He released his chin with a faint chuckle, shaking his head with a light smile.
"Whether he realizes it or not, it's fortunate that Dedy chose to intervene. I suppose it was the right decision to show him a glimpse of my strength."
Turning away, Al picked up a towel, preparing himself for a wash.
"David, oh David. I thought you were just a tantrum-prone brat, but I didn't expect you to be this deep. Interesting."
He stared at the ceiling for a moment before finally moving. Then, he picked up his phone and made a call.
"Prepare everything. We're leaving this morning," he said calmly before ending the call and glancing at the door.
Hopefully they won't ask too many questions, he muttered inwardly.
With that, he strode toward the bathroom. After all, this morning he had something no less important awaiting him.
---
A short while later—
He headed to the family room.
After breakfast, just as the family finished their meals, Al—who had recently gotten used to waking up early—showed up.
He then shared his plans with his parents.
"I need to attend a school program for the next three days.
Some kind of training and observation for scholarship students," he said casually.
His father glanced at him briefly, then nodded, still busy scrolling through business updates on his tablet. But he still managed to ask,
"Do you need anything for your stuff?"
Al shook his head.
"No, everything's already there. I just wanted to tell you before there's another round of wild speculation."
"Hmphh..." his father muttered. "Remember, tone it down. Don't start trouble. Okay?"
Al gave a thumbs-up in agreement.
Sandra also looked at him for a moment before giving a faint smile.
"Take care of yourself. Don't push your body too hard."
Al nodded.
"Thanks, Father, Mother. Then I'll be off." he said.
With that, Al left home.
But his destination wasn't school.
The route he took was completely different.
Instead of heading toward the school gate, he wandered through the city streets until he reached the outskirts—a place nearly forgotten by time.
There stood a modest but sturdy building, painted white with green iron gates, and surrounded by a fairly spacious yard.
Behind its humble appearance, the place held a significant part of Al's past.
Malika Makazhar Orphanage.
An old orphanage that still stood strong after receiving support from the Alasia Foundation's Indorosia branch.
In his hands were two large bags filled with toys and boxes of children's favorite snacks.
As he opened the gate, a burst of laughter and cheerful shouts greeted him.
"Big Brother Al's here!"
The children ran out, hugging his legs, tugging at his hands, fighting for his attention.
"Oii. Oii. Don't fight. Don't climb on me. Aaarrghhhh… Line up first, okay." he complained, though his tone was cheerful.
Several of the caretakers smiled warmly at the sight.
It was a simple—but heartwarming—scene.
Yes, this was once Al's home.
Back when he was just a child who had no idea who he really was.
---
Flashback
Every day, he was teased by the older kids.
Sometimes they bullied him, sometimes they stole his food, most often they disturbed his sleep.
Every afternoon, the caretakers would lift his tiny body and hug him like a living doll.
"We just can't stop playing with you. You're the cutest child in the world," they said as they pinched his cheeks.
Even during study time or chores, the hugging never stopped.
But it didn't bother Al. Because in those moments, he could feel genuine warmth and love.
---
"Such beautiful memories..." Al whispered with a small smile, playing with the kids and handing out snacks.
Chaos erupted for a moment; a dozen children were hard to manage. Until one of them asked, confused,
"Big bro Al, why did you come alone? Where are Uncle Michaelis and that mean-faced uncle?" referring to the duo, Michaelis and Sebastian.
"You care more about them than me, huh? When I'm already here." he said, gently patting the child's head.
The kids laughed happily at that.
Then another one asked a more pointed question.
"Big bro… where's the lady who often comes here to see you? Your girlfriend, right? Where is she?"
Al could only stare blankly, while the nuns chuckled at the innocent question.
"Girlfriend? Where did you learn that? You're still little. Stay away from things like that." Al said casually, giving advice.
"Ugh… you won't admit she's your girlfriend? You're mean, big bro." another replied.
"Don't tell me you're divorced already." said yet another.
A light annoyance stirred in Al hearing that.
"Divorce?! Where do these kids even learn things like this…" he muttered, annoyed.
Chaos erupted… until a voice rang out loudly,
"I'm here, my love!"
Everyone turned around.
"Ugh… that scary woman's here," one of them muttered.
At the far end of the hall, a middle-aged woman with bright red-dyed hair appeared.
"What did you call me? Scary woman? I'm Al's girlfriend, hahaha!"
The kids erupted into a fuss, which the nuns quickly managed.
Al looked at the arriving figure.
The woman had already approached and greeted him with a semi-dramatic hug, as if she were a mother who had been longing for her son who had been away for a long time. A hug that Al, of course, returned warmly.
"AL, DARLING! You're getting taller, and even more handsome! Oh dear, the kids are gonna fall in love with you!"
Al chuckled softly.
"Haha. Mother, you're exaggerating as usual. We've only been apart a few months, after all." he said warmly to her.
That woman was none other than Mother Corla—
The current head of the orphanage. Eccentric, brutally honest, but undeniably kind-hearted.
They talked for a while.
About the children, the orphanage's needs, and... old memories.
Then, Al excused himself and headed to the back of the orphanage.
There, beneath a large tree that shaded the western garden, stood a simple gravestone.
Covered in a bit of moss, but still intact.
The morning breeze blew gently, as if preserving the solemnity of the place.
'Angelia.'
That name was carved by hand.
Al knelt down and greeted her. His eyes began to well up.
"Mother, I'm here."
Mother Angelia.
The old woman who first found him—a tiny baby wrapped in cloth, left at the orphanage gate on a stormy night.
She was the one who cared for him, fed him, taught him, and protected him—shielding him when others crossed the line, whether it was the older kids who bullied him or the caretakers who couldn't stop treating him like a doll.
For years, she had been the brightest light in Al's life. A figure who fulfilled his need for parental presence. Someone who made him stop expecting excessive affection, even from his own parents.
But when Al vanished for four long years…
And eventually returned…
Angelia was gone.
She had passed away in her sleep—leaving the world without ever knowing what happened to the child she loved so deeply.
Tears slowly fell down Al's cheeks.
He couldn't hold them back.
Not because he was weak—but because the guilt ran too deep.
"I'm sorry... I didn't get to be there at the end, Mother..." he whispered.
"But no matter what, you'll always be the best person I've ever had."
A cold wind suddenly swept by.
From behind him, soft footsteps approached.
Al wiped his face and turned.
Beyond the trees, seven figures in black uniforms stood in formation. Their hoods covered their faces, but their aura was unmistakably familiar.
Among them, a perfectly built woman stepped forward.
She removed her hood, revealing sharp features and a respectful gaze.
"Master," she said softly but firmly.
Al smiled.
"Let's go," he said—
And in the next moment, they vanished with the morning breeze.
---
Not long after, Mother Corla stepped out the back door, holding a plate of Al's favorite snacks.
But Al was already gone.
"That boy disappeared again, huff…" she sighed, walking toward Mother Angelia's grave.
A letter was pinned to the headstone.
Mother Corla read it and smiled.
"Angelia… the boy's all grown up now. You'd be so proud of him."
---