The sky began to dim, but not due to a threat. For the first time since the spiral disaster began, the sunset was seen intact behind the remnants of the abyssal fog. Its light touched the roots of Genesis that grew in a circle around the central altar—marking that the world, though not yet completely safe, was at least still able to breathe.

  Gently, the evening breeze carried the scent of wet earth and the remnants of wilted flowers, creating a contrast with the tension still hanging in the air. In the middle of the altar, Fitran sat leaning against a large root. His breath was heavy and irregular. The remnants of wounds from the duel with the Manifestation of Tiamat still lingered on his body—especially the burn on his ribs and the marks of abyssal energy on his left shoulder. He glanced at the Voidlight lying beside him, feeling as if a piece of him was expressing itself in the faint glow of mixed spiral colors: lightning blue and fire red. Those two elements had now become a part of him, like the remnants of a storm that had yet to settle.

  Joanna stepped down the altar steps slowly. Her robe was dusty and torn in several places, each step revealing the damage that marked her long journey. Her purple hair was loosely braided, and her expression was hard to read—a mix of anger, relief, and… something she hid deeper than the spiral magic itself. Her gaze, firm and resolute, hinted at dissatisfaction, but behind it, there was a flicker of longing for a calmer past.

  Around them, the remnants of silence presented the faint sound of a heartbeat that was not forced, as if everything held its breath waiting for this meeting.

  Fitran looked up as he heard the footsteps, then smiled weakly when he saw who was coming.

  But before he could speak, Joanna's voice came first—flat, yet striking.

  “Fool.”

  Fitran raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

  Joanna stood before him, her hands hanging at her sides, her fingers trembling slightly with the emotions that overwhelmed her. Instantly, the tension between them stretched, pulling them into a deeper and more personal battlefield.

  Fitran looked up as he heard the footsteps, then smiled weakly when he saw who was coming. His smile, though weak, brought a bit of warmth to the tense air. The cold evening breeze made his robe flutter gently, and they both fell silent for a moment, only hearing the rustle of leaves falling from the low trees around the altar.

  But before he could speak, Joanna's voice came first—flat, yet striking. Her voice echoed in the empty space, adding intensity to the already tense atmosphere.

  “Fool.”

  Fitran raised an eyebrow. “Hm?” His eyes conveyed confusion, as if he didn’t understand why a simple word from Joanna was so painful. He thought it would lead to more questions.

  Joanna stood before him, her arms crossed over her chest, but her eyes were sharp. There was a glimmer of determination in her gaze, as if challenging every decision he had made. She felt like a bell reminding them of the dangers surrounding them every second.

  “Do you think it’s cool to fly into the sky while burning your body like a candle?! If Rinoa hadn’t caught you with the Song of Anchor, you would have turned to ash and dust with the Voidlight!”

  Fitran chuckled softly. “I calculated the wind direction and the strength of the spiral in the atmosphere. Don’t worry.” His nose crinkled slightly as he smiled, showing that his calmness was a denial of the situation he faced, but inside, guilt battled against instincts screaming for caution.

  “Calm your head!” she shouted, her voice higher than usual. “You’re my father, not a destructive fireball sent to act dramatically!”

  Fitran held back laughter. He could feel the pulse of anger in her—proof that she cared. His pale expression slightly aligned with Joanna’s mood, as if he was trying to transfer courage with his gaze. He tilted his head slightly and looked into Joanna’s eyes.

  “Ah… so you’re worried?”

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  Joanna paused for a moment, then turned her face away. Her cheeks flushed, hinting that Fitran’s words touched the deepest part of her. “O-of course not! I’m just… annoyed because if you die, I have to deal with all of this alone. This world isn’t finished being patched up, and I haven’t slept properly for… who knows how many hours.” Amidst her tension, there was a deep anxiety surrounding her words, giving the night a slightly brighter atmosphere.

  Fitran leaned back against the root, smiling more gently. “Not because you love me?” His fingers moved gently over the tree roots, as if seeking a grip on reality.

  Joanna’s face turned red instantly. She turned her face deeper away. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty, creating a wave of emotions she couldn’t express in words, making the moment more intimate and sincere than before.

  “Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m just thinking logically. Besides… who else could slice a creature the size of a mountain with such dramatic flair but you? I won’t find a replacement that foolish.”

  “So I’m irreplaceable?”

  “Don’t twist my words!”

  Fitran laughed softly—a laugh filled with pain but also warmth. “You are indeed Sheena’s daughter.”

  Joanna’s expression was still furrowed, but there was a glimmer of warmth in her faint smile. She touched the wound in her heart, trying to soothe the lingering pain. “And you are indeed my source of stress. If you dare to do that again without telling anyone, I… I…”

  Fitran looked at Joanna’s flushed and trembling face. He didn’t interrupt. His fingers gripped the damp earth tightly, as if trying to find a hold amidst the uncertainty.

  “…I will scold and pinch you before my heart stops from worry.”

  Fitran lowered his head slightly, his voice soft. “I won’t do it again.”

  “Good.”

  “Do you love me?”

  “—THAT’S DIFFERENT!”

  Fitran fell silent, looking at her with gratitude. His eyes sparkled in the dim light, as if searching for clues from Joanna’s uncertain expression. Amidst the tension filling the air, he could feel his heart racing, each beat echoing the uncertainty in their conversation.

  Joanna still turned away, but her shoulders dropped. Her voice was softer now. “I just… I’m not done being angry. And I haven’t had the chance to say that I… yes, I like how you said my name earlier.” She bit her lip, avoiding Fitran’s gaze, even though there was a soft sigh from her pressed breath. “When I rewove reality. You said it like…” She bit her lip. “...like it was the only name you wanted to keep.”

  Fitran didn’t answer with words. He reached out and held Joanna’s hand that was at her side. The girl didn’t pull away. Their gentle touch seemed to convey something deeper than mere words, bridging the gap of feelings that had long been held back.

  “You can say that if you want,” Fitran whispered, his voice soft and full of hope. At that moment, he couldn’t deny the closeness they had reached a turning point, like a river flowing toward a new direction.

  “I don’t want to.” She still looked away, but her grip tightened in return, as if reminding herself of the moments she wanted to keep. “I want you to stay alive… long enough for me to keep not saying things like that.”

  Fitran chuckled softly again, even though his body ached. “You know, in many worlds I’ve traveled through… there’s no spiral as beautiful as you, Joanna.”

  Joanna brushed her flowing hair aside, displaying a mixed expression of pride and slight shyness. “I know,” Joanna murmured, pretending to be proud. “That’s why I’m still here. If it weren’t for me, who else could scold their father for being so heroic that he almost died?”

  “You’re right.”

  A moment of silence passed. The sound of the Genesis leaves rustling gently created a calming natural rhythm, as if understanding the confusion enveloping them. The abyssal fog had truly vanished from the shoreline, and the sunlight began to seep in, casting a golden glow over the calm sea.

  Finally, Joanna leaned gently against Fitran’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body that became a source of safety. She pretended to yawn, gazing far into the horizon. “…But seriously, Dad. I’m glad you’re back. But don’t think I’ll say that directly.”

  Fitran snorted lightly, his smile growing effortlessly, revealing a row of neat teeth. “You just said it.”

  “No. That was just… a functional spiral statement to maintain emotional stability.”

  “…That’s a confession.”

  “Ssst.”

  Fitran chuckled softly, his eyes shining with warmth as he stole a glance at Joanna. “Alright.”

  The sky began to change to golden hues, with orange and pink streaks blending beautifully, creating an unforgettable backdrop. Around them, the remaining golems began to rise slowly, the rumbling sound from their stone bodies adding to the magical atmosphere. The spiral forces lit small campfires, the flickering flames spreading the soothing aroma of burning wood. Rinoa played a short violin in the distance, playing a gentle melody that calmed the soul, as if penetrating into the depths of this profound feeling.

  Joanna closed her eyes, still leaning against her father’s shoulder, listening to the music and the rhythm of Fitran’s heartbeat in sync. She didn’t want this moment to fade, feeling the warmth of his body providing a sense of safety.

  Not because of the spiral, or the burning spirit. Not because of the victory they might achieve. But because this was the only place in the world where she could embrace her father without having to admit it with words, in the silence that spoke more than could be expressed by lips.

  And Fitran… remained silent, his gaze soft and full of understanding. He let time flow, each second feeling precious. He knew that the spiral of this relationship was far stronger than all the spells in the world, every promise and love stored in the warm embrace they shared.