Chapter 287 A Nectar For The Heart

There were now very limited options for him to move forward to: the door sitting at the opposing end of the room, and the abnormal door, made of dark-brown wood that was embedded into the ceiling.

As he looked up towards the ominous door that was attached to the ceiling above his head, he felt a reluctance to venture down that path.

I'll save that one for last–seems like trouble, he thought.

What that left was the door directly north of the locked cube, leading him to a door frame forged of continuously blooming flowers, yet they decayed and crumbled to nothingness within moments; it was a perpetual cycle that persisted right before his eyes as if watching time speed up solely for the plants.

It was a mesmerizing sight; the plants clung to the threshold of the door, growing from mere, thin vines to flourishing flowers, then breaking down and repeating the process over, and over, and over.

Everything here just brings more questions–I'd like some answers soon, he thought.

Taking his focus back from the peculiar, time-accelerated plants around the door, he grasped the handle that had flowers blossoming from the cracks in the handle.

The moment he opened it, the door was pulled open to reveal a blinding flash; his senses were distorted as his entire perception was attacked by whatever existed beyond the threshold.

"Nngh–"

It was so bright, as if staring directly into the sun, it made him squint before the overwhelming shine before finally closing his eyelids.

A sense of imbalance came as he found himself swaying, though he did not fall; whether it was due to his own sense of footwork or purely luck, he did not know.

What...is this? He questioned.

The blaring light persisted along with a loud hum that filled his ears, invading his senses completely before suddenly–it all perished.

With silence now peacefully laying upon his ears and the bright light sparing his eyes, he slowly parted his eyelids.

"--"

As he opened his eyes, he found himself in a new room; one that was deeply familiar to his very core, yet one he had not seen in a time that felt simply like "forever". It wouldn't be wrong to say it was a sight he had not seen in a lifetime.

"...This is..." He muttered in disbelief.

It was an average-sized room with wooden floorboards and shelves decorated with figurines of pop culture–namely ones with "anime girls" or mecha builds on display.

"My room...but how?" He asked in a mumble of disbelief.

The hum of his computer met his ears, causing him to look over to see the desk he had sat at for countless hours, day-and-night. Seeing the digital light of the computer monitor felt oddly nostalgic after spending so long in a medieval world; the unkempt books stacked on the wooden desk were far too familiar as well.

For a few minutes, he was left in awe, standing there and taking in the nostalgic sight of his past life.

He felt different; his perspective was shifted, prompting him to walk over to his closet door as he opened it, revealing a mirror attached to the inner side of the door.

Though she initially questioned the surprising hug, she returned it with a gentle smile, stroking the young man's head of snow-white hair.

It was a comfort he didn't know how badly he needed, sinking into his mother's touch as he closed his eyes, accepting the comfort provided.

"It's been hard, hasn't it?" She asked with a soft smile.

"Yeah."

"You've been doing your best though, right?" She asked kindly, continuing to caress his head.

"Yeah."

Each response was simple and quiet as he was held in his mother's embrace, taking it in as he didn't know if there would ever be another chance to experience it.

Still, it wasn't quite what it seemed. At least, he was aware of that much; though the warmth felt as real as a campfire in the winter, he knew it was but an illusion. When applying an ounce of logic to it, the reality of the situation was clear, that there was no such "reality" around him, only a fabrication of his own memories.

That's right...something like this couldn't be real–but, I don't really mind, he thought.

It would be nearly impossible to discern the difference between reality and illusion when it all felt so real; even to the scent of pine from the floorboards and the lavender fragrance his mother always cleaned the house with.

The only thing that even made it known to him that it wasn't real was the very fact it was an impossibility; still, his heart ached, knowing the finality of this experience.

I miss her. I can admit that–but, that doesn't mean I regret leaving, either, he thought.

After an embrace that lasted minutes that felt like an awaited eternity, nourishing for the young man's heart, he finally moved away, looking at the only figure that shined a light into his life as Ethan Bellrose.

"I have to go now..." He explained with a sad look, "...I think this is it. After this, I won't see you again."

"I know," she replied with a knowing smile.

He was at a loss for words at that moment, not knowing what to say or make of the last moments he'd spend with the woman before him.

"It's not a joke. I really won't see you again," he clarified.

"I know."

"--I'm leaving you again, I'm–!" He began to say with tears in his eyes.

Though he was stopped by that gentle, knowing smile from his mother of origin that seemed to read him better than he knew himself.

"It's alright, Emilio," she said.

"Emilio...?" He repeated in shock, not expecting that name to leave the hazel-haired woman's lips.

A nod came from his mother, who held her hands together with her own teary-eyed smile, "That's your name now, isn't it? You have a whole new life ahead of you–one where you're strong and able to do anything you want, right? That's amazing. I'm proud of you."

"Well, I don't know how that's turned out..." He said, averting his gaze momentarily.

It felt shameful that he now found himself dead; tossing his life away that he tossed another away for initially. In that regard, he felt as though he failed.