“No, I didn’t see it. What I saw wasn’t that…”

He stopped mid-sentence as the image of his mother from the dream resurfaced in his mind, tightening something deep in his chest. Just as he had sensed, he never saw her again after that. Probably never will.

Yet despite this thought, Dein felt neither pain nor sadness. The guilt, hatred, and suffering he used to feel whenever he thought of his mother were gone. He simply accepted their past as it was. Maybe, like others, he could live accepting and loving others normally.

Even my child.

The sudden thought snapped him back to reality. What nonsense was that? A child? Impossible.

“Dein?”

The call brought him back. When he raised his head, the others were looking at him curiously. Dein smiled casually and changed the subject.