Consciousness returned like watercolor bleeding through parchment—ethereal daylight filtering through hospital windows, pushing back the darkness that had claimed him through the night. Rays carved definition into the stark white room, transforming emptiness into something almost sacred. Acacia's eyes fluttered open between waves of morning light, consciousness arriving in fragments between his lethargic blinks. The world materialized in gradients of white and beige, his vision taking lazy snapshots of reality as it assembled itself around him. When he finally managed to focus on the ceiling, confusion wormed its way through his dulled senses.

  Then the pain hit.

  A symphony of trauma played through his body. Every breath brought a new movement to this brutal composition; the slightest muscle twitch invited fresh waves of burning discomfort. His chest, arms, legs—each took turns reminding him of their injuries, conducting a chorus of protest at his continued existence.

  As awareness solidified, so too did memory. Images reassembled themselves like shards of broken glass: Sirius's face twisting with concern, the taste of blood, Malleus, Apollo. Understanding crashed through him with the force of revelation—he had passed out after the confrontation, after Sirius had tried to...

  "Calm down," he whispered to himself, the words barely audible even in the room's pristine silence. "Calm down... they're not here."

  Logic filtered through panic's haze. He was in Windsor Medical Center. Early morning light suggested he'd been unconscious through the night. Sirius must have brought him here after he collapsed, though the interim remained a blank space in his memory.

  He had to get out of here

  He was unsafe, unprotected—

  "Bloody hell!"

  His attempt to rise ended in a symphony of protest from his injuries, pain sharp enough to white out his vision. The movement was easily one of his worst decisions of the morning, and considering recent events, that was saying something. If it hurt this badly through whatever painkillers they'd given him...he forced his breathing to slow, trying to center himself through the waves of discomfort.

  Eventually, the door creaked open.

  An unfamiliar elderly man wearing a lab coat came through the hallway and shut the door behind her, greeting Acacia with a small wave and nonchalant smile before making his way toward the desk near the room's window.

  "Morning, kiddo."

  "Morning..." Acacia attempted to match the greeting, but the words emerged awkward and strained. With two limbs wrapped in medical restraints and his chest a maze of gauze and bandages, conventional social graces felt like an exercise in futility.

  The doctor's appearance reminded Acacia of a bullfrog—his protruding belly and network of bulging veins giving him an almost…amphibian quality. Yet his eyes held keen intelligence as he studied his patient, his amicable expression masking careful assessments.

  “How are you feeling?”

  "I'm fine...just tired." Acacia forced a smile. "It doesn't hurt." The lie came easily, born of years of practice. His mind raced ahead, calculating possibilities. "Do you know how long they plan on keeping me here?"

  The man, who Acacia assumed to be the doctor, furrowed his brow.

  "...Are you cognizant of your condition?"

  "My condition?" The repetition bought Acacia precious seconds to analyze the doctor's tone, searching for leverage.

  "Multiple rib fractures significant enough to impact blood vessels, a punctured lung, severe sprain of the right wrist—and those are just the primary concerns." The doctor's sigh carried the weight of decades of similar conversations. "I'm afraid you won't be leaving anytime soon, kiddo."

  "W-What?" Acacia's carefully constructed facade began to crack. "How long are we talking about?"

  The doctor adjusted his position, the chair's swivel making a sound like fate's rusty wheels turning. "Let's say you shouldn't rush your recovery."

  This was precisely the response that Acacia wanted to avoid. His fingers clenched in the sheets, knuckles whitening. "I shouldn't rush? So you want to keep me here indefinitely? Enhancement Thaumaturgy can heal moderate wounds in hours. A day at most. What's the actual issue here?"

  The doctor's expression shifted to something more paternal as he settled into the chair across from his patient.

  "You seem to misunderstand something fundamental about our situation." He produced a small rectangular device from his desk, its clinical design matching the room's sterile aesthetic. "This is a public hospital, not a specialized medical center. The level of Enhancement Thaumaturgy required for proper cellular restoration..." He twirled a pen between aged fingers. "That expertise is far beyond what most practitioners achieve in a lifetime. Without years dedicated solely to healing arts, such rapid recovery is simply impossible."

  Acacia's tongue clicked against his teeth like a hiss.

  "As it stands, not everyone at this facility possesses the thaumaturgical expertise for accelerated healing. We rely primarily on conventional medicine, applied with the utmost precision. I apologize for any inconvenience, but this represents our current capabilities." His frog-like features softened into something approaching warmth. "Though I should note that modern medicine has advanced considerably since my early days. Technology has ways of surprising us, haha!"

  "So you're saying my injuries require multiple specialized Thaumaturges to heal quickly?"

  "That's perhaps an oversimplification, however—"

  "I understand. I'll wait." The words emerged clipped, precise, syllables carefully measured to hide the storm beneath.

  "Good, because there are visitors who want to see you." The doctor swiftly changed the subject.

  "The visitors being…?” The doctor was about to continue, but the door swung open, interrupting his sentence as an orange tuft of hair appeared.

  "You're awake!"

  Acacia's face instinctively twisted into a grimace; Sirius Trafalgar was the last person he wanted to face in this state. The bespectacled invent rushed forward, ignoring the doctor's startled protest, and enveloped Acacia in a fervent embrace.

  "Thank God you're alright. I thought—" Sirius's voice caught, emotion bleeding through his usual exuberance. "I wouldn't have forgiven myself if things had ended differently." Raw honesty colored each word, his typical flamboyance stripped away to reveal something far more vulnerable. Acacia remained still, allowing Sirius to stroke his head despite the way it made his cheeks burn with unwanted warmth.

  "I'm fine... really," Acacia managed after a long moment. "Thank you for saving me." He'd intended to apologize for the trouble he'd caused, but experience suggested Sirius would reject any such sentiment.

  Soon, a chiding voice boomed from behind the door before Acacia could ask where the others were.

  "Can you chill out for even one second, Dad?! You're so embarrassing!"

  "Huh? The great and wonderful me, embarrassing? You're as unreasonable as your mother!" Sirius's retort lacked real heat, bearing instead the warmth of well-worn family dynamics. He maintained his protective hold on Acacia even as his daughter entered the room.

  "Leila... this is impossible. There's no way, there's no conceivable way that your father, the great Sirius Trafalgar—"

  "Would be suffocating and coddling a fifteen-year-old boy he just met, fully aware that said boy would rather face death than endure such smothering attention? Elias, welcome to my life." She punctuated the statements with an elegant snort, while beside her, Elias Scryer seemed determined to avoid eye contact with the man he'd once revered, his disillusionment almost palpable.

  "Does my dear daughter still have that sharp tongue of hers?" Sirius leveled a mock glare at Leila, prompting another grimace. Still embracing Acacia, he continued, "I want my sweet little girl to promise she'll be extra nice to me starting today! Go to your room after this and practice flowery, compassionate words just for me! Do it with a smile!" His grin stretched impossibly wide, a caricature of paternal enthusiasm.

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  "Fat chance! Even in your dreams, you'll never catch me spouting those platitudes until my throat gives out!" Leila's emerald eyes blazed with enough intensity to ignite the sterile air.

  "I'm about to suffocate here, just so everyone’s aware," Acacia managed from within Sirius's embrace.

  Reality seemed to penetrate Sirius's paternal haze. He released Acacia with startling speed, his face flushing crimson. "My apologies." He chuckled, though Acacia could only respond with a pained groan.

  "Mr. Trafalgar," Dr. Amherst's voice cut through the moment, "please refrain from such enthusiasm. The patient's injuries are still acute, and this visit must be brief." He cleared his throat meaningfully. "I need to discuss Mr. Belmont's condition with my colleagues. If you need me—and given your volume, I suspect you will—just call out. You won't go unheard." A hint of wry humor colored his last words.

  “Fine by mean, Dr. Amherst. Do what you must." Sirius nodded, his expression sobering as he watched the doctor depart. Once the door closed, he turned back to Acacia, previous mirth replaced by something more subdued.

  "How are you, really?"

  Acacia slightly nodded. "As well as I could be, all things considered..."

  "Fair enough," Sirius replied, but his relieved smile twisted into a defeated frown as he truly took in Acacia's injured state. The Irregular, then noting Sirius's shifting demeanor, redirected the conversation toward the teenagers behind him.

  "Did the old man rope you two into this visit?" He idly flipped a coin he'd discovered on the bedside table, the metal catching morning light.

  "What? No way! We wanted to check on you too!" Elias brushed away the comment, raising his arms in a defensive stance. He casually ambled towards the bed at a leisurely pace, his arm moving to muss Acacia's hair playfully. "A little brush with death isn't enough to shake us!"

  "I suppose not," Acacia conceded, averting his gaze as his voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "I appreciate it. Truly. If you hadn't received my message when you did, that psychotic witch might have succeeded."

  "Are you kidding me?" There was zero hint of hesitation when Elias shot back. "I told you I would be by your side if you ever got into trouble, right? What kind of friend would I be if I broke that promise?"

  "I don't recall you actually making that promise," Acacia remarked, cocking an eyebrow.

  "It was implied!" Elias's face flushed, drawing a quiet laugh from Acacia that quickly turned into a wince. "And speaking of implications—I won't let you deflect from your absolutely reckless behavior yesterday!" He jabbed an accusatory finger at the bedridden Irregular. "What possessed you to make such a stupid decision?"

  "What are you talking about?" Acacia's protest carried genuine confusion. "It couldn't have been that stupid."

  "The stupidest." He firmly countered before his voice hardened. "Why did you split up with me?"

  "Because I deduced there was another Bloodhound in Windsor. I needed you as a misdirection to buy time while I located their second operative." Acacia appealed to logic. "What kind of question is that? The strategy was obvious—"

  The silence that followed stretched like pulled taffy.

  Sirius pressed a hand to his face in exasperation, Elias stared at him bankly, and Leila's eyes narrowed to emerald slits. Then, like a dam breaking, she erupted.

  "Are you…genuinely this dense?" Her words were like a nuclear bomb. "I wanted to praise your tactical thinking in using an ally as a decoy. Yet here you are, thick as a brick wall about the most fundamental flaw in your plan! Has a single word you've spoken made sense even to you?!"

  "What was wrong with my reasoning?"

  "Your life! What's the point of escaping Malleus if you deliberately chose to seek out her partner who you don't know their skill set, and how much of a threat they are to your safety?!"

  "I already had an ide—"

  "Shut up! Every word you speak just proves how utterly careless you are with your own life!" Leila's finger jabbed his cheek as she leaned closer, her face inches from his. "You should have stayed with the person who came to save you, you inconsiderate trash-brained excuse for a human being!"

  "Oh, brilliant plan. Make myself a liability?" Acacia's expression contorted in disgust at the mere suggestion before meeting her gaze with equal intensity. "I did what circumstances demanded. I maintained control throughout the encounter."

  "You want to die that badly at the hands of your assassins? Fine! Perfect! Don't let us stop you! Perhaps you shouldn't have called Elias in the first place if your goal was execution by Bloodhound, you complete and utter—"

  "Leila, enough."

  The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Sirius Trafalgar carried a bitter chill, a freezing baritone of immense magnitude.

  She never heard her father speak this way, and the fear of the unknown was a primal one that never abated.

  Immediately, she silenced herself, gazing down at her feet in shame. Wordlessly, he rose from his position and strode toward the bedridden Acacia, staring him down dispassionately as Elias quickly stepped away, feeling the man's prana rising passively.

  "Acacia, you operate from a fundamentally flawed understanding of reality. While selflessness has merit, you've twisted it into a weapon against yourself. Your life isn't mere currency to be traded—yet you value it solely as a bargaining chip. More damning still, you chose to endanger yourself needlessly even after abandoning Elias to the plaza."

  The pressure of his presence bore down on Acacia, making the hospital room feel impossibly small.

  "But my goal was to—"

  "Do you remember the impact that struck Apollo before he could end your life?" Sirius cut through Acacia's weak defense, heedless of the pain his words might inflict. "Leila had never before used Thaumaturgy with intent to harm. She pierced a man's arm with her spell, staining her hands with blood—for your sake. Of course, you wouldn't have noticed, too consumed by the consequences of your miscalculations."

  Acacia maintained his external composure, but internally, the revelation struck deeper than any wound. Sirius wielded truth like a blade, drowning him in the weight of his failures. Leila turned away, teeth clenched as a bitter memory surfaced, while Elias stood frozen, uncertain how to bridge this chasm of understanding. Yet Sirius, relentless as gravity, continued.

  "An overindulgence in altruism breeds the same malevolence it seeks to eradicate." His eyes flickered violently. "Yet here you are, attempting suicide missions under the delusion that self-sacrifice is the highest virtue. What possessed you to believe this was acceptable?"

  "N-No." Acacia's cry emerged barely above a whisper.

  "Then explain your strategy. Surely you didn't believe you could defeat a Bloodhound in direct confrontation?"

  "N-No!" It escaped like a wounded thing. "I just... I needed to... all of it..."

  Watching the Irregular retreat into himself, Sirius's expression softened. He placed a gentle hand on Acacia's shoulder, his voice losing its edge.

  "Whether born of selflessness or altruism, it doesn’t matter. We’re all here for you, despite how terribly events unfolded. Pandora and I have learned from our oversights. We’ll stand ready to protect you without compromise." His lips quirked upward. "Hell, next time Leila unleashes her power, those Bloodhounds won't know what hit them. She acted because you matter to us. Can you deny that?"

  "I-I only did it because Pandora ordered me to!" Leila interjected, refusing to meet Acacia's gaze.

  "Come on, Leila. When will you acknowledge that you care for others?" Elias's gentle rebuke carried an unusual directness, revealing the depth of their friendship even to Acacia's dulled senses.

  "Fine...whatever." Leila sighed. Though questions about Acacia’s actions still clouded her thoughts, more pressing matters demanded attention—specifically, the wounded boy before her. Hesitantly, she returned to his bedside.

  "We're all here for you. Got that?"

  "...Yeah, I got it." Acacia weakly nodded, face still riddled with guilt.

  Recognizing that perhaps he'd been too harsh, Sirius sought to lighten the atmosphere. He placed his hand on Acacia's bandaged leg.

  "Trust in us for now. Let us handle what comes next. Think you can manage that?"

  "I'll...try." Acacia attempted to meet his gaze, but something in his uncertainty and discomfort made Sirius raise an eyebrow.

  "Acacia…I think you're due for a bone-breaking, heart-to-heart hug!” He stretched out his arms with that same demonic aura.

  "I'll try! I'll trust in you all, I'm sorry!" Acacia sweated bullets, realizing that it was nothing more than a thinly veiled threat.

  Leila and Elias couldn't help but laugh.

  ***

  Later, as they exited through the hospital's sliding doors, humid late spring air enveloped them. Sirius pulled out his car keys, twirling them around one finger as he turned to the teenagers.

  "I’m gonna head over to Windsor's Investigation Department—got to discuss our next steps with dear little Dora." He paused, studying them both. "Need a ride home?"

  "Thank you, Mr. Trafalgar, but I'm fine." Elias shook his head, though something in his expression shifted suspiciously. "Letting me visit Acacia was more than enough. Besides, I have to—"

  "See your father?" Sirius deduced upon seeing Elias's emotional state shift. "I get how you feel, but he's your dad. If I can do anything for you, let me know."

  "...Yeah." Elias managed a weak smile, understanding the offer that hung unspoken between them.

  "E-Elias," Leila stuttered before mustering enough courage to look at him. "I'll walk you home, okay? Your house isn't that far away from ours."

  "Thanks, Leila, but I'll be alright. My father won't tolerate delays." Elias turned away, letting the wind catch his clothes as he started walking.

  "Then I suppose I'll just have to keep pace." She fell into step beside him, matching his stride with a teasing smile. "You know, last time we raced, I definitely won."

  "What? That's absurd! You've never beaten me fairly! Last time, you used [Flux] to boost yourself forward—I didn't even know that was against the rules until afterward!" Elias's protest echoed through the afternoon air as they picked up speed.

  "Excuses, excuses." She teased further, taking the lead. "You're just afraid of losing again. The only thing faster than my feet is my wit, and that's because I'm always thinking ahead."

  "What did you say?!" Elias's voice faded as he accelerated to catch her, their youthful forms disappearing into Windsor's bustling afternoon streets. Sirius watched them vanish, laughter playing at his lips as he tracked their retreat.

  "They grow up so fast."

  With a sigh, his smile disappeared, turning his gaze towards the Investigation Department.

  Dora...we have much to discuss.

  He made his way to his car and drove off.