Zafron walked in silence, Calista's words ringing in his ears. "Because I've been where you are." Her voice had been different in that moment—raw, vulnerable in a way he hadn't expected. It wasn't like her to peel back the layers, to expose anything more than her biting wit and sardonic humor. But here, in this desolate place where secrets clung like shadows, maybe honesty was easier to find.
He wanted to press her for more, to ask what she meant, but his thoughts drifted elsewhere, swirling like the mists around them. The idea lodged itself in his mind: were Calista, Thera, and Aurelia more than what he had believed them to be? Aphrodite had conjured them from thin air—or so it seemed. But did that make them puppets, mere constructs? Or were they once lost souls, now tethered to him, guiding him, shaping his destiny?
The thought made his stomach twist. How often had he reduced them to something less than real? When they appeared in his system interface as holograms, disembodied projections of their personalities, it was easy to forget they had once had—or still had—bodies. They felt pain, desire, joy, even when he wasn't paying attention. How many times had he treated them as tools instead of people?
Zafron glanced at Calista out of the corner of his eye. She moved with a lithe, predatory grace, always watching, always aware. But now, with the question of what her life could have been looming between them, he saw the smallest crack in her mask. Did she want more than this shadowy existence? Could she have a life outside of limbo, outside of whatever binds Aphrodite had placed on her?
Was it even possible? Calista's entire existence seemed intrinsically tied to this strange liminal realm. She didn't have a body in the mortal sense; she was spirit and essence. Did that make her dreams futile, her hopes unreachable?
He swallowed hard. He wanted to ask, to confront the issue head-on. But he didn't. Something in her expression warned him against it. The smallest flicker of longing crossed her face, there for a heartbeat and gone just as quickly. He couldn't bring himself to pry open a wound he couldn't heal.
Instead, they kept walking, the silence between them growing heavier by the moment. It was a weight neither of them seemed willing—or able—to lift.
Calista broke the silence first. "It'll be such a relief, won't it?" she said, eyes fixed ahead as they moved through the mists of limbo. "Once we find the herb and heal whatever Aphrodite is suffering from, things can finally go back to normal."
"Normal." Zafron echoed the word, rolling it around in his mouth like something foreign. He shook his head.
Calista's gaze flicked to him, curiosity sparking in her silver eyes. "What's up?"
"Nothing."
She arched a brow. "Come on, Zafron. If we were in the mortal plane, I'd be stuck in your head listening to every little thought you have all day long. So you might as well come out with it."
He forced a half-smile, but her words twisted something in him. The way she said it—almost bitter, like the thought of being trapped there was a burden—pricked at his conscience. Was that what it felt like for her? Endless days spent hearing his every fear, every regret, every misplaced desire? He pushed the guilt aside and decided to tell her, if only to lift some of the weight from his chest.
"When I think about normal, it really can't be complete without Cassandra, can it?" He sighed, a heavy, world-weary sound. "She let me go when the enforcers were chasing me in Drakoria. I told her I'd hide in Lumina, but instead, I ended up trapped in Area 52."
Calista walked in step beside him, her expression unreadable. He pressed on. "Who knows if she's still looking for me? Maybe she moved on. Found some rich noble fitting her status. Someone who could give her the life she deserves."
He clenched his jaw, the thought burning through him like wildfire. The idea of Cassandra in someone else's arms, living a life he couldn't give her, made his chest feel tight. Every woman in his life— Matilda, Sakura even Calista and the other two—was tangled up in his heart. But Cassandra... she was different. Losing her would break him.
Calista let out a soft, almost derisive chuckle. "Miss Beaumont? Please. You've got it all wrong, Zafron."
He glanced at her, the tiniest spark of hope flaring. "What do you mean?"
"If there's one thing you should know about Cassandra, it's that she's not the type to settle." A sly smirk spread across Calista's lips, her tone dipping low. "Especially not for some uptight noble. No, Zafron, you left quite the impact on her. Trust me when I say that you're not easily forgotten."
He wanted to believe it. Desperately. "You're just saying that."
Calista's eyes gleamed with a knowing light. "Oh, I'm serious. And I'd bet that, of all your women, she's the freakiest. You think she's pining for some dull, proper life? No. She's probably still dreaming of your little adventures together."
Zafron felt a laugh bubble up, despite himself. "Freakiest, huh?"
"Absolutely. You should've seen the way she looked at you." Calista paused, then added with a touch of mischief, "Well, actually, I have seen it—in vivid detail. Perks of being stuck in your head, remember?"
Something about her tone made him smile, but it also struck a deeper chord. She was trying to reassure him, even in her own twisted way. And maybe she was right. Cassandra wasn't one to let go easily, and whatever they had... it was more than just memories and regrets. It was something real.
For the first time in a while, hope didn't seem so far away.
Calista's smirk faded, replaced by a more somber expression. "Enough teasing," she said, her voice dropping to a low, serious tone. "Let's talk about where we actually stand, Zafron. Because as much as reminiscing helps, it won't get us out of this mess."
The air grew heavier, and Zafron nodded, feeling the weight of their circumstances settle around him again. "You're right. No use pretending this is just a stroll through limbo. We've got bigger things to deal with."
Calista glanced at their surroundings—an endless expanse of swirling gray mist and fractured time. "We're stuck in a place where every moment spent could do and undo. And right now, your mortal body is vulnerable. We can't afford to waste time."
Zafron clenched his fists. "Area 52... it's more than just a prison. Whatever experiments they're doing there, it's tied to the enforcers. It's bigger than I thought."
She nodded, her eyes narrowing. "And Aphrodite. Whatever's happening to her, it's not a coincidence. The gods' war, the chaos in limbo, your capture—it's all connected."
Zafron's jaw tightened. "So, what do we do? Focus on getting back to the mortal realm, find this herb, and heal her?"
Calista met his gaze, her expression hard. "Yes, but it won't be easy. The enforcers are still out there, and they know you're a threat. Your escape won't go unnoticed. Even if we find a way out of limbo and back into your body, we'll be hunted."
He let out a breath. "I know. But I don't have a choice, do I? I can't just leave things as they are."
"No." Calista's voice was softer now, almost pained. "You can't. But you don't have to do it alone, either."
He looked at her, searching her eyes. "Why are you doing this, Calista? Helping me, being my guide... it can't just be duty."
She hesitated, then spoke with quiet intensity. "Maybe it started as that. Aphrodite gave me a purpose—to guide you, protect you, help you find your way. But somewhere along the line, it became more. I've seen you struggle, Zafron. Seen you fight when it would've been easier to give up. You care too much, even when it costs you."
He was silent, absorbing her words. "And that's why you're willing to put yourself at risk?"
"Yes," she said simply. "Because if you fall, all of this falls apart. Whatever happens, we get you back to the mortal realm after finding the herb. We heal Aphrodite. Then we deal with everything else."
Zafron exhaled slowly. "You make it sound so straightforward."
"It's not." Calista's lips twisted in a wry smile. "But I've been in limbo long enough to know that nothing worthwhile ever is."
They walked in silence for a few moments, the gravity of their mission settling in. Finally, Zafron spoke, his voice low but resolute. "We'll do it, Calista. No matter how many obstacles stand in our way. I'm not giving up."
Her gaze met his, fierce and unyielding. "Good. Because neither am I."