Her expression softened instantly, shifting from annoyance to quiet sorrow. "I thought you’d spend so ti with after we woke up," she murmured, lowering her gaze like she was trying to hide her disappointnt. "There’s so much I wanted to talk about ... but since you’re busy—"
"No!" Lucian cut her off. "I’m not busy at all!"
He looked absolutely horrified, like seeing her sad expression was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. At that mont, he realized—he had screwed up.
deia almost smirked, but she kept up her act. "But aren’t you training your students?" she asked, tilting her head innocently.
Lucian spun around so fast it was almost comical. "Class is dismissed for today!"
A deafening cheer erupted from the exhausted students. So of them looked like they were about to collapse in sheer relief, while others had tears in their eyes, their prayers finally answered.
deia was truly their goddess!
Lucian ignored them because the only thing that matter right now was deia. "I’m so sorry I didn’t consider your feelings. It’s just ... I feel bored by laying on the bed too long, so I decided to teach my class for a while."
"That’s okay." deia kept her acting. "Maybe I’m nagging you too much."
"No, you don’t!" Lucian held her hands. "I promise I’ll listen to you next ti. Please, don’t be mad anymore."
deia finally smiled. "Good." She said, "Should we go sowhere more private then? How about we go on a picnic?"
• •
deia just wanted Lucian to rest. That was the whole reason she dragged him away in the first place. They didn’t go too far from the base, but far enough to get so peace and quiet.
Eventually, they settled on a ledge high up on the canyon wall, just out of sight from everyone below. deia unrolled the picnic mat while Lucian casually raised his hand, shaping the rock above them into a natural shade.
She pulled out food and cooking supplies from her Space Pocket, carefully arranging them on the mat. Her mood had completely shifted—her earlier annoyance replaced by genuine excitent.
"So, about that supernatural being I ntioned ..." she started, casually opening a food package.
"It’s more like a machine or a system that talks in my head. You know, like those weird gas humans play." She glanced at the sealed food packets sitting in an ergency bucket. "Which one sounds better? Chicken Teriyaki Rice or Pasta Alfredo?"
Lucian leaned over, eyeing the options. "I like pasta, but chicken sounds good too."
In the end, they decided to make both. As Lucian helped stir the ingredients, he glanced at her. "Why are you always talking about humans like you’re not one of us?"
deia froze for a mont, her hand gripping the spoon a little tighter.
What if he knew the truth? That she was a demon, not a human with a demonic appearance—but truly a demon from hell.
Lucian had accepted her no matter what happened to her, but ... how far did his acceptance truly go?
She sighed and thought, Whatever.
deia lifted her head, looking right into his erald eyes. "Lucian, do you believe that people can change to be better?"
"Lucian, do you believe people can change for the better?"
Lucian didn’t hesitate. "I do."
deia smiled faintly. "Do you rember when I told you I wasn’t the real deia? That’s because I’m not."
Lucian blinked, waiting for her to continue.
"I died in my previous life," she explained. "And then, this system brought my soul into this world. Honestly, the place where I used to live wasn’t that different from this apocalyptic wasteland, so adapting wasn’t too hard for ."
Lucian froze in place.
Dead in her previous life?
Her previous world wasn’t so different from this one?
Lucian’s face darkened and he couldn’t help but feel bad for her. "What ... what happened to you?"
deia smiled, as if the answer didn’t really matter. "Oh, my death? It was actually pretty quick and simple." Her voice was disturbingly casual. "You know, when your head gets separated from your body, you actually stay conscious for a few seconds. Weird, right?"
The utensil slipped from Lucian’s fingers. His breath hitched. "Soone... cut off your...."
The words wouldn’t co out. His mouth went dry, his throat tight with disbelief.
deia—his deia—had died like that? His chest ached at the thought. He always knew she carried pieces of a past she didn’t talk about, but he never imagined sothing like this.
deia was always so cheerful and full of life, but who knew that her last life was not as cheerful as her.
"But don’t worry, it wasn’t that painful," she added with a little wave of her hand. "Honestly, I wasn’t exactly a good person back then, so maybe I deserved it. Then, when I opened my eyes again, I was here, and a spider—Lucian? Are you crying?"
Her voice softened, concern flickering across her face.
Lucian lifted a hand to his cheek. His fingers ca away wet.
Tears?
He hadn’t even realized he was crying.
deia tilted her head. "Why are you crying?"
Lucian swallowed hard, his chest tightening even more. He t her gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you smiling?"
Because no one talked about their own death like that.
No one smiled as if they were telling a funny childhood story.
And the fact that she did? That hurt him more than anything.
Lucian didn’t understand.
It was rare to see her cry for herself.
She had been through so much, yet the only tis he had ever seen her break down were when he was on the verge of death or when she witnessed Orlon’s cruelty.
But for herself? For her own pain, her own wounds? Not once.
His thoughts drifted back to the hallucinations in the forest. What kind of nightmare had she seen? He had barely survived his own, fevered and on the brink of collapse. Yet she ... she had looked perfectly fine.
"Was your hallucination connected to your past life?" Lucian asked, "Did you rember it?"
deia maintained her smile, but her eyes suddenly lost their sparks.
Lucian’s stomach twisted. It might not seem like much, but he knew—whatever she had rembered, it wasn’t sothing pleasant.
"I did," she admitted, letting out a soft laugh. "But it’s not exactly a fun topic."
Lucian had always kept his questions buried, hesitant to push her, afraid of making her uncomfortable.
But at this mont, he couldn’t hold back anymore.
He wanted to know more.
He wanted to understand her, to share the weight of whatever she carried.
"I’m not asking you to talk about sothing fun." He gently set the food aside and leaned closer. "Don’t you think this is unfair? You know everything about , but I know nothing about you—not even your real na."
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