The silence that followed those words was heavy enough to crush the walls. Ren's breathing hitched, his mind spiraling as if someone had opened a door inside his memories that he never realised existed. His father… tied to the Gates? Tied to the same supernatural force now burning beneath his skin?
Ren's mother exhaled shakily, folding her hands in her lap, as if steadying herself before tearing open an old wound.
"Ren," she began softly, "your father wasn't just involved in the underworld. He was one of the Gatebearers—one of the very few born with the ability to see and manipulate the forces behind the Seven Gates. He wasn't supposed to inherit anything. He wasn't supposed to lead anyone. But the Seal…" Her eyes flickered toward the carved wooden dragon resting on a nearby table. "The Seal chose him anyway."
Ren's heartbeat pounded louder in his ears. "But then why me? Why did the Seal skip him and jump to me?"
She closed her eyes. "Because your father refused it."
The room chilled instantly.
Sora stepped forward, face grim. "He did more than refuse it. He tried to destroy the Seal—tried to bury the Gates forever."
Tatsuya finally spoke from the doorway, voice tense. "He failed. But not before starting a war between the syndicates and the spirits beyond the Gates. The aftermath nearly wiped out entire factions. But instead of letting him die in the conflict…" Tatsuya cast a glance at Ren's mother. "Your grandfather took him in. Hid him. Protected him."
Ren's pulse spiked. "So Dad was—what? A criminal? A warrior? A… Gate keeper?"
His mother's eyes softened with pain. "He was a father who wanted to give you a normal life. That's why he ran." She swallowed, voice trembling. "That's why he died."
Ren froze.
Everything inside him stopped.
Kaito's breath caught sharply. Yui's eyes widened. Even Sora's expression cracked with sympathy.
Ren's mother covered her mouth, trying to steady herself, but the memories spilled through her defenses like water breaking a dam.
"Your father died protecting you from the Second Gate," she whispered. "Twelve years ago. On the night of the fire."
Ren felt the warmth beneath his skin flare—this time not comforting, not controlled, but suffocating. He saw flashes again—glimpses from the vision the Wraith forced on him. The burning temple. The man shielding a small child—him—from a wall of roaring flame. The dragon-shaped Seal glowing like molten metal. The voice shouting his name.
His father's voice.
Ren shook, gripping the bedding. "Mom… why didn't you tell me?"
Her eyes reflected years of guilt. "Because he made me promise. Because he wanted you to grow up free of this world. Free from destiny. Free from the Seal and the Gates. And for a while… you did."
Ren felt something sharp twist in his chest.
For a moment he wasn't in the safehouse at all.
He was a boy again—small, frightened, looking up at his father's silhouette surrounded by fire.
And now he understood:
That was the night his father pushed him through the door and told him to run.
The night everything changed.
Ren's voice cracked. "I remember… I remember the fire. I thought it was a nightmare."
"Not a nightmare," Tatsuya said quietly. "A memory."
Ren squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the warmth in his chest flicker. Anger mixed with grief and something else—something older, tighter, like an invisible thread tugging him toward a path his father had desperately tried to keep him from.
Yui reached for his hand, grounding him. "Ren… you're not him. You're still you."
But Ren wasn't sure anymore.
Sora's voice broke the tension. "What matters now is that the Wraith found him. The Second Gate is moving. And if Ren's father really tried to destroy the Seal, then his bloodline might hold the key to controlling—or stopping—the Gates altogether."
Ren looked between the adults, feeling his world tilt.
"So what am I supposed to do?" he whispered. "Run from this like Dad did? Or fight it?"
His mother took his hand, squeezing tight.
"You'll have to make that choice soon," she said. "But whatever you choose—don't choose it alone."
Ren felt the sting of tears he refused to shed. For the first time, he understood the depth of what he'd inherited—not just power or responsibility, but tragedy. A legacy carved in fire.
Before he could speak, a sudden booming knock shook the wooden doorframe. Tatsuya whipped around, blade drawn. Sora stepped between Ren and the entrance, baton igniting with white sparks.
Kaito jumped. Yui gasped.
Another knock, sharper this time.
Then a voice—deep, calm, commanding—spoke through the door.
"Open up."
Ren's heart stopped.
He knew that voice.
He had heard it in the fire.
He had heard it in the vision.
He had heard it in his nightmares for twelve years.
His father.
Alive.
Or something that sounded like him.
Ren stood abruptly, ignoring the pain.
"Dad…?"
The safehouse fell silent.
Tatsuya hissed, "Ren, step back."
Sora blocked his path. "We don't know who—or WHAT—is outside that door."
But Ren's chest burned brighter, hotter, like the Seal was reacting to the presence beyond the wood.
The voice came again—this time firmer, closer.
"Ren. Open the door."
Ren's breath trembled.
"Dad… is that really you?"
A long silence.
Then—
"…Let me in, son."
The flame beneath Ren's skin roared.
And the next chapter of his destiny cracked open with the sound of a turning handle.