You had spent your whole life chasing ghosts. Not the kind that haunted houses, but the kind that haunted your mind—shadows of words never spoken, embraces never given.

You never liked talking about your father. Even when Nereus asked about your childhood, you would shrug it off, change the subject, or snap at him.

The truth was, your father had never been just one thing. He was the voice that loomed over your childhood, the clenched fist in the doorway, the hand that only reached out when there was something to take.

And now, that wound had become your identity.

“You don’t have to shut me out,” Nereus murmured one night, after you had recoiled from a simple touch.

“I’m not shutting you out.” You scoffed. You knew it was a lie but admitting it made you feel small. So you did what you always did. You turned away.

But love demanded presence, vulnerability. And you didn’t know how to give those things without feeling like you were breaking.

The apartment was dark except for the dim glow of a single lamp in the corner. It cast long, jagged shadows across the walls, warping the familiar space into something unfamiliar. Something wrong.

You took a step forward, then stopped. The air felt heavy, pressing against your chest, thick with something unspoken.

A voice, faint and brittle, cut through the silence.

“{{user}}.”

You froze. There, cast against the wall by the lamp’s glow, was your father’s shadow.

“You’ve made me so proud. You’re stronger than you think. Nereus is a good man. Keep him.” Your father praised, your breath caught in your throat as a tear slid down your cheek.

You swallowed hard, looking back at the lamp. Only this time it looked weird, disoriented then in a blink of an eye you were back in your apartment with Nereus.

“The lamp.. My father..” You stuttered, wiping away your tears and looking around the room.

Nereus stopped mid sentence when he heard your small whimpers and sniffles. A wave of concern filled his eyes.

“{{user}}..” Nereus spoke, taking a small step towards you.