Hridoy sat on the terrace swing, staring at the sky.
The cold morning wind stirred the collar of his white shirt,
its rhythm steady like his breath.
Around him, the stone roof of Reinhart Manor stood silent,
and the faint light of dawn spilled over its edges.
Just then, Sunslite stepped slowly up the staircase to the terrace.
She wore a white dress—
light, airy, and soft, not revealing but delicate,
as if it carried the first traces of morning light after a night of darkness.
Her face still bore the shadows of exhaustion,
yet in her eyes glimmered a strange, quiet determination.
Hridoy lifted his gaze from the sky to her.
For a moment, Sunslite stood completely still,
frozen under the chilling glow of his blue eyes.
Her presence made the cold air feel even colder.
"You're awake," Hridoy said softly.
"Good."
Sunslite did not answer.
She stood in silence, the folds of her dress catching the early light.
The pain of the previous night lingered in her expression—
but within her eyes, a new darkness had begun to form.
Hridoy studied her—
not with desire, but with calculation,
like a teacher observing the birth of a new force within a student.
"You've changed," he said in a calm, unnerving voice.
"Last night wasn't just suffering… it was a beginning."
Sunslite finally spoke, her voice steady:
"I don't fear you anymore."
The swing creaked gently in the wind.
Hridoy gave a faint, chilling smile—
not warm, but strangely satisfied.
"Good.
The fearless are harder to control…
and far more interesting."
A thin line of tension stretched between them in the morning light—
no longer teacher and student,
no longer predator and prey.
Two forces now faced each other,
born from darkness and destined for fire.
---
On the Terrace
The cold air rustled around them.
Sunslite stepped toward him—quiet but firm.
She hesitated for only a second,
then slowly knelt beside the swing,
resting her head gently on Hridoy's lap.
It was not surrender—
but a search for the strange, fragile calm
she could not find anywhere else.
Hridoy did not move.
No surprise flickered in his eyes—
only a deep, unreadable stillness.
Slowly, very slowly,
he placed his cold hand on her head
and pressed a soft, emotionless kiss on her forehead—
a gesture that felt less like affection
and more like a ritual.
He said nothing.
Only watched her with darkening eyes.
After a moment, Sunslite whispered:
"I… want to see my parents."
Her breath trembled slightly,
but her voice did not.
"Will you let me go?"
The swing swayed again.
Hridoy's face remained unreadable.
His gaze held her in a quiet analysis.
"You may go," he said,
voice calm as frost.
"But you must return, Sunslite."
There was no command,
but an inescapable weight in his tone—
No matter how far you travel,
your path will circle back to this manor.
Sunslite closed her eyes.
The cold morning light brushed her skin,
and in her heart, hope and fear rose together.
---
Sunslite Prepares to Leave
Sunslite left the terrace
and returned to her room.
She changed out of the white dress
and put on a long, heavy black Victorian coat.
A dark gray shawl draped over her shoulders.
On her head, she placed a black velvet hat
with delicate lace along the edges.
Her fingers still trembled—
but not from fear.
From anticipation.
She opened a drawer
and took out a black umbrella,
its silver handle engraved with strange symbols—
a small shield against the manor's darkness.
---
The Departure
When the main door swung open,
a breath of cold morning air touched her face.
The portraits on the walls,
the echoing wooden floor,
the hollow corridors—
all seemed to beg her to stay.
But Sunslite did not stop.
At the bottom of the stone steps waited
an old black horse carriage,
already prepared—
as if Hridoy had known she would leave today.
The horses stood uncannily still,
as if bound by the manor's silent magic.
Sunslite walked toward the carriage.
With her umbrella in hand,
she adjusted her hat;
a soft shadow fell across her pale face.
She looked back once—
no figure stood in the manor windows,
yet she could feel Hridoy's blue eyes
watching her from some unseen corner.
---
The Moment of Departure
She stepped into the carriage.
Her hand paused on the wooden frame.
She closed her eyes for a brief second.
Freedom.
Fear.
Rebellion.
Revenge.
All of it swirled inside her chest.
The coachman said nothing.
He merely bowed his head
and pulled the reins.
The wheels rolled over the courtyard stones,
and a deep, strange echo vibrated—
as if the manor itself sighed.
Sunslite sat upright,
umbrella resting across her lap,
her sharp gaze fixed on the horizon
beneath the shadow of her hat.
And she whispered to herself—
"I'm going to find my past…
and from that darkness,
I will forge my power."
When Sunslite arrived home, her mother hugged her tightly. Sunslite was crying, releasing all the fear, pain, and despair of the night at once.
Her mother led her into a deeper room, sat her down, and spoke gently—
"Listen, I know you've been through so much. No one here can hurt you. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, okay? But remember—no one can ever take your inner light. It's still with you."
Holding Sunslite's hands, her mother continued—
"I understand more than you think, but you're not alone. If anything happens, you tell me. You don't need to share everything with the darkness. You are strong, Sunslite. Even through your pain, you will find a new strength inside you."
Sunslite slowly rested her head on her mother's shoulder and whispered—
"I… I just want to be safe."
Her mother held her silently, only squeezing her hands—a wordless promise that she was not alone.Sunslite confronts her father, Arthur, in the hallway, accusing him of ruining her life by involving her in the ancient, dangerous power of the Nexus. Arthur admits his "terrible mistake," but desperately defends his intentions: he channeled the power into her to shield her, believing his architectural knowledge could control the darkness and protect her from Hridoy's kind.
He tells her: "Hridoy wants you because you are the key to his power. But remember—the key is always in your own hands."
Arthur then leads her to the study door, confirming that all his mistakes, plans, and the methods for controlling the Nexus are documented in his private journal, hidden behind the portrait. He urges her to go in, read the truth, and transform his failure into her strength.