Two weeks of eager anticipation had finally come to a head. The once idle park corner where Elena helped the village children hang their paper drawings had now become the talk of the town. What started as a modest after-school project blossomed into a full-blown art exhibit in one of the city's corporate towers. Coordinating with teachers, parents, and local volunteers had taken effort, but Elena had poured her heart into it, and the results were more than worth it.
The exhibit space was warm and lively. Each child had their corner, and their bright, earnest artwork was displayed proudly with their names underneath. Guests began to file in — teachers with proud smiles, parents brimming with joy, and even a few local reporters taking snapshots and scribbling notes.
Elena stood near the entrance, assisting attendees and answering questions from a few members of the press. She wore a simple yet elegant blouse and a long navy skirt, her hair tied up in a low bun. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from all the activity, but she glowed with a quiet sense of fulfillment.
"Excuse me," a voice said from her side. She turned to see a tall man in a gray button-down shirt and black slacks holding a notepad and a press badge. "I'm Nick. I write for a small online zine. Mind if I ask you a few questions about this beautiful exhibit?"
Elena blinked. There was something oddly familiar about him. The way he smiled, that confident yet slightly mischievous air — but she couldn't place where she had seen him before.
"Of course," she replied warmly, extending her hand. "I'm Elena."
Nick took her hand briefly, then began, "How long have you been tutoring the kids? This seems like a pretty well-organized initiative."
Elena laughed softly. "Thank you. It's only been a couple of months, really. I started tutoring them informally at the request of one of the village teachers. It just grew from there."
"And do you see this growing into something more permanent?"
She paused. "I hope so. Maybe a regular art program, or even scholarships for the more talented children. They deserve a bigger platform."
Nick nodded slowly. He wasn't even writing anything down anymore. He was too captivated. Elena's voice carried so much passion and sincerity. She had no idea how rare that was — especially among the people he usually dealt with. His heart thudded in his chest as he realized: the version of her he had imagined in his head didn't even come close to the real thing.
As the interview went on, Nick found himself relaxing. He forgot, for a moment, about the circumstances that had initially bound them. He wasn't here as a player in a cosmic game, nor a reluctant husband by contract. He was simply a man who found himself enthralled by a woman who was doing good in the world.
Meanwhile, Nathan had been conversing with some of the children's parents. He smiled and nodded, complimenting their kids' work, but his attention was soon drawn to a sight that made his stomach drop — Nick and Elena, talking alone.
He watched the scene from across the room. Nick was laughing lightly at something Elena said, leaning in just slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. Panic surged in Nathan's chest.
He quickly excused himself and walked over. "Nick," he said, forcing a grin. "There you are. I didn't expect to see you here. Can I borrow you for a second?"
Nick arched an eyebrow. "Of course."
They stepped away to a quieter corner near the hallway.
"What are you doing here?" Nathan hissed.
Nick folded his arms. "I told you. I'm a reporter now. I cover human interest stories. This one seemed interesting."
"Cut the crap. You're here because of Elena."
Nick smirked. "Well, she is my wife. On paper, anyway. Isn't it fair that I check on her progress?"
Nathan's jaw clenched. "Don't push it. I'll find a way to void that contract. She doesn't even know about it yet."
Nick leaned forward slightly. "You think voiding a contract will erase what happened? Or stop me from caring about her?"
Nathan grabbed Nick by the collar, dragging him closer. "You don't care about her. You cared about the prize."
"I thought I did," Nick said, shrugging off his grip. "But things change. People change."
Nathan took a step back, his eyes still burning. "Stay away from her. She's finally healing."
Nick gave a half-laugh, half-sigh. "You can't protect her from everything, Nathan. Especially not from what's coming."
Nathan's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Nick leaned in, his voice lower now. "Solaria's system is expanding. They're already eyeing Denara. There's talk of starting new games — using different kinds of bait. They're not done with her. Or with us."
Nathan stepped back, visibly disturbed.
"Just think about it," Nick added. "You've got kids. I'd start watching who talks to them. Who offers them free games."
Before Nathan could respond, Nick walked away, merging with the crowd. Nathan stood frozen for a moment, then slowly turned and looked back at Elena.
She was kneeling beside a small child, helping him straighten his drawing. Her eyes sparkled with encouragement. She was so far removed from the deceit, so innocent still in her world of crayons and colored dreams.
And yet, the shadows were closing in again.
That night, under a muted sunset sky, Elena sat on her porch, her sketchbook resting on her lap. She was humming softly, trying to decompress from the whirlwind of the day's events. But something was nagging at her.
That man — Nick. Why did she feel like she knew him?
She shook the thought away, focusing on her drawing. She sketched a girl standing in front of a wall covered in children's drawings. Behind the girl was a glowing, swirling pattern—rainbow colors spiraling around her like a protective shield.
Unseen to her, far off in a hidden part of Denara, some figures watched the day's events through a flickering screen.
"The timelines are aligning," the figure muttered. "She's almost ready."
Haraya, the village healer, was watching the screen with the Grand Elder. Both of them knew that the signs were checking out. Both of them agreed that it's time to move quickly.