The air in the kitchen was warm, scented with vanilla and butter. The clock on the wall read 7 AM.
Johan and Jennifer worked in perfect tandem, moving with the practised efficiency of those who had done this a hundred times before. Jennifer expertly grabbed five small bowls from the highest shelf, measuring equal parts flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt into each with precision. Johan was already heating two iron pans on the stove, the metal beginning to glow with gentle warmth.
Jennifer cracked fifteen eggs into the flour mixture, whisking the batter until it was smooth and lump-free, the sound rhythmic and almost meditative. Johan poured oil into the pan with careful restraint, watching as it heated to the perfect temperature.
"Thanks for helping me," Jennifer said, her voice tired but genuine. "Most of the time, Scarlett helps me make breakfast. By the way, where did you get the recipe for these pancakes?"
"From Franken," Johan replied, flipping a perfect circle of golden-brown cake with practised ease. The pancake landed softly on a waiting plate. "What recipe did you find from United Ameileo?"
"A pastry they call Apple Pie—tasty and easy to make," Jennifer replied, concentrating on cutting strawberries into perfect, uniform slices. "The kids love it."
"I will try to make it next," Johan said, sliding another pancake onto the stack.
In under fifteen minutes, they had produced thirty-five fluffy pancakes, which they carefully stacked and served on eight plates at the dining table. The heavy scent of syrup and cooked sugar filled the room, warm and inviting. It was the smell of home, of family, of normalcy—the very thing they had fought so hard to protect last night.
Having completed their task, exhaustion finally caught up with them. They headed toward their bedrooms, their bodies moving slowly, their minds foggy. The night's work to secure the hospital had left them physically and magically drained. Every muscle ached. Every ounce of power had been spent.
As they reached the hallway, Scarlett came down from the top of the stairs, rubbing her eyes and yawning widely. She was an eight-year-old girl, one of the orphans living with them. Her smile shone like the morning sun, pure and unburdened by the darkness that had threatened to consume their city.
"Good morning, Dr. Jennifer and Dr. Johan," she greeted them cheerfully, as if they weren't both barely standing.
"Good morning, Scarlett," Jennifer returned the greeting, her eyes heavy-lidded but warm. "Is everyone else awake?"
"They will wake up soon. Is the breakfast ready?" Scarlett asked, sniffing the air with unbridled enthusiasm.
"Yes, it's on the table," Jennifer told her, giving the usual instructions despite her exhaustion, her maternal instincts overriding her need for sleep. "First, brush your teeth. Second, have your meal. Last, drink your milk. You all have to follow this. Okay?"
"Okay!" Scarlett chirped happily.
"Jennifer, do I have any appointments with patients today?" Johan asked, stifling a yawn.
"The next appointment is at 6 PM," Jennifer replied, already making her way toward the stairs. "You can rest now, as can I. Aaaaa…" She finished with a huge, undeniable yawn that seemed to contain all the exhaustion of the night.
They headed to their bedrooms, leaving the warmth of the kitchen behind.
Scarlett could now fully smell the delicious breakfast. Her eyes widened with wonder. "These must be pancakes made by Dr. Johan!" she exclaimed to herself. She didn't waste a moment. "Hey, wake up, everyone! A delicious breakfast is waiting for us!" she yelled excitedly, running down the hallway to rouse the other children, her small feet pattering against the wooden floors.
Meanwhile, Joseph slept restlessly in his room, lost in a powerful and disturbing dream that pulled him deeper and deeper into darkness.
A beautiful woman appeared before him. Her face was shrouded in sorrow, her eyes filled with an ancient, incomprehensible pain. She looked at him with an intensity that transcended the dream world, as if she were reaching across the very fabric of reality to touch him.
"A new life can change everything," she told him, her voice echoing with weight and meaning. "You have been given a second chance. Do not waste it."
The world around him shifted violently into a realm of chaotic magic. The sky transformed into a deep, bruised purple—a colour that shouldn't exist in nature, that hurt to look at. Six massive silver pillars stood around them like the bones of some ancient titan. But two of them were shattered, their fragments suspended in the air, defying gravity. Flames of different, unnatural colours burned atop the remaining pillars—blue fire, green fire, black fire that consumed all light.
Then, the focus shifted to his own body. His body was covered in grey armour, revealing his true self as the Lord of Knowledge. Many ancient symbols adorned his body. But looked defeated from a brutal battle.
Blood began to spread rapidly from his chest, pooling and coalescing into a horrifying shape. As he watched in horror, unable to move or scream, the blood formed the terrifying symbol of the Dark Lord on the surface—the same mark he had seen in the hospital's twisted dimension.
Joseph suddenly woke up with a violent gasp, his chest heaving, his body slick with cold sweat. He was panting as though he had just recovered from a deadly, exhausting wound. His heart thundered in his ribcage. He felt instantly, crushingly tired, as if something fundamental had been drained from him.
But then, just as suddenly, the sensation of extreme fatigue faded, and he returned to a state of uncomfortable normalcy. The dream's weight still clung to him, but his body refused to acknowledge it any longer.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
"Brother Joseph, wake up and come to breakfast!" a girl yelled cheerfully from outside his door. The voice was bright, innocent, untouched by darkness. It was Scarlett, still humming to herself as she brushed her hair.
Joseph rose slowly and opened the door. Standing there was Daisy, a five-year-old girl with big, curious eyes, another lively orphan who lived with them. She was already dressed in her simple morning clothes, her hair still mussed from sleep.
"Okay, I'll come to breakfast," Joseph said, his voice still a little tight from the dream, the lingering anxiety making it hard to speak normally. "Did brother and sister wake up?"
"They made breakfast and went to sleep," Daisy replied cheerfully, her focus already drifting back to the dining room and the promise of pancakes. "I think they went to see a patient last night."
"Okay, I am coming," Joseph said, managing a small smile.
Daisy ran off, her small feet moving quickly toward the kitchen and the delicious smells waiting there.
Joseph closed his door gently and sat back down on his bed for a moment. The immense relief that Jennifer and Johan had risked their lives and successfully saved Anni was overshadowed by a huge concern for their safety. They had nearly died. Both of them. If they had failed...
He couldn't finish the thought.
The words he had overheard last night echoed in his mind, merging and tangling with the imagery of his dream. "Most of the races from the Knowledge World despise humans. The Lord of Knowledge was the only one holding them back." And then Johan's voice: "He is Joseph now. He is our little brother."
Am I the reincarnation of the Lord of Knowledge? Do I have a previous life? Was I someone... else?
Finally, he forced his racing thoughts to still. He looked out the window. His room was on the third floor, and since Jardin Paisible sat already high on the city's highest point, the entire city spread out beneath him like a map. The old, two-story houses were blocky patches of colour below, their rectangular roofs like neat rows of dominoes waiting to fall. The morning sun caught the streets, turning them into rivers of gold.
A gentle, quiet serenity began to warm the hollow ache in his chest.
"They save people," he said quietly to himself, watching the city wake up below. "They risk their lives to protect others. They didn't become heroes—they just did what was right. That's who they are. That's who I want to be."
He stood up, his resolve solidifying. "I have to be proud of them. And I have to be worthy of the life they've given me."
He quickly put on his school uniform, the navy blazer and white shirt that marked him as a student of the prestigious academy. He headed downstairs, his earlier confusion and fear beginning to settle into something more manageable.
In the dining room, all seven children were cheerfully eating their pancakes, their voices creating a warm symphony of childhood chaos and joy. Scarlett was carefully explaining to the younger ones how to pour syrup in just the right amount. Jack was already on his second plate. Amili and Armin, the two youngest, were more interested in stacking their pancakes than eating them.
"Good morning, you all," Joseph wished them warmly, his voice steady and genuine.
They returned his greeting with various levels of enthusiasm—some with full mouths, some with excited waves, some barely pausing from their meals.
Joseph sat in a chair, picked up a knife, and cut a piece of the fluffy pancake. He lifted the bite to his mouth with a fork. The delightful, warm taste melted on his tongue—perfectly balanced sweetness, the subtle vanilla, the richness of the butter. For the first time since overhearing Johan and Jennifer's conversation, his expression softened into a genuine smile.
It was just breakfast. Pancakes made by his sister and brother. But in that moment, it felt like everything that mattered.
After finishing breakfast, the older children scrambled to get ready for school, moving in controlled chaos as they gathered books and uniforms. The two youngest, Amili and Armin, both less than five years old, headed to the mansion's library with books. Since they could not yet attend school, they instead focused on their admission preparation for the prestigious school they hoped to join next year.
Joseph finally left for his school, walking toward the gate of Jardin Paisible with his leather satchel slung across his shoulder. The morning air was crisp and clean, the city already bustling with morning traffic and early commuters.
Just as he was about to exit the gate, one of the kids, Jack, called out to him. "Brother Joseph, the doctor told me to give this to you!" Jack said with a happy smile, already panting slightly from running.
Joseph turned, puzzled. "What is it?"
Jack ran up to him and handed him a small, carefully wrapped box. The wrapping was precise, professional—clearly done with care. "They couldn't give you this themselves because they went to see a patient. Then they came back and became so tired, so they slept."
Suddenly, another boy called out impatiently from the gate. "Hey, Jack, we have to go fast because today is our first day in the junior football team! They only allow students of the first to third standard!"
Jack nodded quickly and ran off to join Arnold, both boys disappearing down the street toward their school.
Joseph continued his way to school, holding the box carefully. He noticed that it had been converted into gift wrap—someone had taken care to make it presentable. He understood immediately that this gift was one of his birthday presents, given by Johan and Jennifer despite their exhaustion, despite the dangerous night they had just survived.
His fingers trembled slightly as he opened it.
Inside was a new set of glasses—the same design that he always used, the same thin silver frames, the same clear lenses. But they were new. Fresh. Chosen with him in mind.
He wears them slowly, carefully, as if putting on more than just eyeglasses.
Sunlight reflected from the tears welling in his eyes.
The new lenses brought the world into sharper focus. The colours seemed brighter. The details are more vivid. It was as if the world itself had become more real, more present, more alive.
"Such a top-level fool I am," he whispered to himself, his voice cracking with emotion. "Why am I so concerned about what I was? What I was never matters. What I am now—what I can be now—that's what matters."
He wiped his eyes carefully, mindful of the new glasses.
"I can be the happiest person in the world," he continued quietly, speaking to himself but also to something larger—to fate, to the woman in his dream, to the universe that had given him this impossible second chance. "God gave me this paradise and these two angels to protect me."
The new glasses gave him a clear and new view of the world stretching out before him. But more importantly, they felt like more than just corrective lenses. They felt like a symbol of his new life—a fresh start, a renewed perspective, a genuine second chance.
He adjusted them one more time and smiled—a real smile, not forced or defensive, but genuine and warm.
"Thank you," he whispered, whether to Johan and Jennifer or to whatever force had brought him into their lives, he wasn't sure. "Thank you for believing in me. For saving me. For giving me a home."
He walked toward school with the morning sun on his face and new glasses on his eyes, carrying within him the burden of a past life he didn't remember but also the joy of a present life he had been given.