The Anomaly's Path-Chapter 43: The Night Before

The jet ride back to the Celestial estate was quieter than I expected.

Mia fell asleep about twenty minutes into the flight, her head resting on Mom’s lap while she clutched the stuffed snow fox tight against her chest.

Mom spent most of the journey staring out the window, her hand absently stroking Mia’s hair, her thoughts somewhere I couldn’t reach. The afternoon light filtered through the clouds, casting shifting shadows across the cabin.

Lyra sat across from me, calm as always, but I caught her watching me a few times with that particular expression she got when she was worried about something and didn’t want to say it out loud.

I didn’t ask. Didn’t need to. We’d been through enough that I could read her silences by now.

I spent the flight staring at the clouds, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. About the training. About Theron. About the trial waiting for me.

The estate came into view around midday.

From above, it looked exactly the same as when I’d left—sprawling buildings with their elegant architecture, manicured gardens stretching between them, that ridiculous amount of space that still felt surreal every time I saw it.

But somehow, it felt different now. Smaller, maybe. Or maybe I was just seeing it through different eyes after everything that happened in Frosthollow.

The jet touched down on the private landing platform with a soft jolt, and the ramp lowered with that familiar hiss. I stepped out into air that was cold, but not Frosthollow cold. Regular cold. The kind that didn’t try to kill you the moment you breathed it in.

Dad was waiting at the bottom of the ramp.

He stood there with his arms crossed, wearing that casual stance he always had, but the moment he saw me, his whole face broke into this massive grin. He walked forward and pulled me into a hug before I could even react—tight and warm, the kind of embrace that said more than words ever could.

"Look at you." He pulled back and ruffled my hair hard enough to mess it up completely. "You look like hell, kid. What’d Theron do, run you through a meat grinder?"

"...Something like that." I tried to fix my hair, but it was hopeless.

He laughed—that loud, booming laugh that always filled whatever room he was in. "Good. Means you actually trained." He clapped me on the shoulder, his hand lingering there for a moment. "Welcome home, son."

I smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

Behind me, Mom was coming down the ramp with Mia in her arms, still half-asleep and mumbling something about the fox. Dad’s expression softened when he saw them, and for a second he just stood there, taking them in with an expression I rarely saw on his face.

"Get some rest," he said to me, quieter now. "We’ll talk later."

Then he walked over to Mom, kissed her forehead gently, and took Mia from her arms without waking her up. Mia shifted, murmured something, then settled against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I stood there watching them, and for a moment, something in my chest felt warm.

...Home.

A smile appeared on my face. I was finally back.

I spent the afternoon in my room.

Not sleeping—I tried, but my brain wouldn’t shut up long enough. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw flashes of the training hall, Theron’s pale eyes, the broken sword spinning across the stone floor. Instead, I sat on the floor and cultivated.

Foundation Breathing Art, the same rhythm I’d done every day for weeks. Inhale, pull mana from the air. Hold, let it compress. Exhale, release it through my vessels. The warmth spread through my chest, slow and steady, the way it always did.

My core pulsed steadily, comfortably. Since the breakthrough, everything felt smoother. The mana flowed easier through my channels, which felt wider than before, more accommodating. The whole system worked like it had been waiting for this, like some hidden potential had finally been unlocked.

I don’t know how long I sat there. Time always blurred whenever I cultivated. But at some point, a knock on my door pulled me back.

"Yeah?"

Lyra stepped in, pausing at the threshold. "Dinner will be ready soon, Young Master. The Duchess asked me to let you know."

I blinked, suddenly aware of how hungry I was. "Right. Thanks, Lyra."

She nodded and turned to leave, then hesitated. For a moment she just stood there, like she wanted to say something else.

I waited.

But she only shook her head slightly and smiled. "I’ll be nearby if you need anything."

Then she was gone.

Dinner was loud.

Mom had somehow convinced the kitchen to make all my favorite dishes—the ones I used to eat as a kid, before everything went to hell. Roasted meat that fell apart at the touch of a fork, fresh bread still warm from the oven, some kind of vegetable dish I didn’t recognize but tasted amazing. The table was practically groaning under the weight of it all.

Mia was fully awake now and talking a mile a minute about her adventures with the twins and Sir Fluffington the Second and how she’d definitely been the best-behaved child in the entire fortress. Her hands waved as she spoke, nearly knocking over a glass at one point.

Dad laughed at that, that familiar booming sound. "Best-behaved? Mia, I’ve met the twins. I know you were causing chaos right alongside them."

"I was NOT!"

"You absolutely were." He leaned forward, grinning. "I can always tell."

She stuck her tongue out at him. He laughed harder.

For a while, I just watched them. Dad joking with Mia, Mom smiling at both of them with that soft expression she always wore, Lyra quietly eating and occasionally hiding a smile behind her hand. Normal. Peaceful.

The kind of scene I never thought I’d be part of after everything that happened.

After dinner, Mia hugged me goodnight—tight and fierce, the way she always did. Her small arms wrapped around my neck with surprising strength.

"Love you, Leo." Her voice was muffled against my shoulder.

I held her close for a moment longer than usual. "Love you too, kiddo."

She pulled back just enough to look at me, those big blue eyes searching my face for something. Then she nodded, satisfied with whatever she found, and let Mom lead her away toward bed.

Mom kissed my forehead on the way out and whispered something about being proud of me, no matter what.

Dad clapped me on the shoulder and told me to meet him in an hour.

Then it was just me and the quiet.

I found Dad near the back of the estate, at a building I’d seen before but never really paid attention to. It looked like a training hall from the outside—same general shape, same stone construction—but bigger. More secure. The kind of place that meant business.

"What’s this place?" I asked.

"Family’s private training area." He placed his palm against a panel beside the door, and blue light scanned his hand, then his eye. "Not many people use it anymore."

The door slid open with a heavy thunk that echoed in the evening air.

Inside was not what I expected.

The room was large, with high ceilings and reinforced walls that looked like they could withstand a direct hit from something serious. Training dummies lined one side, some wooden, some made of denser materials I didn’t recognize. Weapon racks lined another, filled with blades of every shape and size.

But in the center, taking up most of the space, were rows of what looked like glass pods. Sleek and metallic, humming with a low energy that vibrated through the floor and into my bones. They were arranged in neat lines, each one slightly different from the next, but all sharing that same futuristic design.

I stared at them.

Capsules.

I recognized them immediately. In the game, these were how characters entered the Path Awakening trial—sleek pods that kept your body safe while your soul went somewhere else entirely.

I’d seen them a hundred times in cutscenes and gameplay, always thinking they looked cool from behind a screen, never imagining I’d actually be standing in front of one.

Seeing them in real life was different. They weren’t just cool anymore. They were real.

"These are capsules," Dad said, walking toward the nearest one and placing his hand on its surface. "For the trial."

I moved closer, studying it. Up close, I could see faint runes etched into the glass, glowing with that soft blue light that seemed to be everywhere in this world.

The inside looked comfortable enough—cushioned, shaped to fit a human body. The whole thing hummed with that low energy I could feel in my teeth.

"When your soul leaves your body for the trial, your physical body doesn’t just sit there." Dad’s voice was calm, explaining like he’d done this before. "A protective shell forms around it—light, energy, call it what you want. That shell provides everything your body needs to survive. Nutrients. Hydration. Basic life support."

I nodded. In the game, they’d explained it the same way. Your body could last months in there, sustained by that shell while your soul fought whatever battles waited inside the trial.

"The shell works fine on its own. Most people don’t need anything else." He tapped the capsule with his knuckle, producing a dull sound. "But capsules like these? They’re better. They stabilize the body, monitor vital signs, provide backup energy if something goes wrong. Think of it as insurance."

"How long does the trial usually take?"

I already knew the answer—the game had shown me this over countless playthroughs—but I wanted to hear it from him.

"Depends on the person, on the path they’re meant to walk, on what the trial decides to throw at them." He leaned against the capsule, crossing his arms. "Most people finish within a month. Some take two. And there are rare cases where it takes even longer than that."

"And if someone takes longer than two months?"

Dad was quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting to the other capsules lined up in the room.

"Then we assume they’re either dead... or their soul is trapped in there, unable to find its way back."

I’d read about that too. The trapped souls, the bodies that never woke up. In the game, it was just lore, background noise to make the world feel more alive. Here, it was real. Here, it was waiting for me.

"What happens to them? The ones who get trapped?"

"No one knows." Dad shook his head slowly, and for the first time I saw something in his eyes I rarely saw. Uncertainty. "Their bodies stay alive—the shell keeps them going. But they never wake up. Eventually, after months or years, the families have to decide whether to let them go." 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

I didn’t ask what that meant. Some questions were better left unspoken, and the weight of it hung heavy in the air between us anyway.

We stood there for a while, just looking at the capsules. The hum of their energy filled the silence, a constant reminder of what waited for me.

Then Dad spoke again.

"...You know, when I first heard you wanted to do this, I thought you were crazy." He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Still do, actually. But I get it now."

I looked at him.

"You’ve changed, Leo. These past few weeks—I can see it. The way you carry yourself. The way you talk. The way you look at things." He met my eyes, and there was something in his gaze I hadn’t seen before. Pride, maybe? Or just acknowledgment. "You’re not running anymore."

I didn’t say anything.

"Your mother’s worried sick, by the way. Don’t let her calm face fool you." He smiled, but it was softer than usual. "She’s been pacing all day, pretending to read, checking the time every five minutes. But she’s also proud. We both are."

"Dad..."

"I’m not saying this to make you emotional." He held up a hand, stopping me. "I’m saying it so you know. Whatever happens in there, whatever you face—you’ve already won. Not the trial. The important stuff. You came back. You faced us. You stopped running."

He gripped my shoulder, his hand warm and solid. "That’s more than I ever hoped for."

I stared at him, not sure what to say. The words felt too big, too heavy.

"Now go get some rest. Tomorrow’s a big day."

I nodded.

He walked me back toward the main building, and for a while we just moved in comfortable silence, our footsteps the only sound in the quiet night. The estate was peaceful like this, the kind of peace that felt almost fragile.

At my door, he paused.

"Leo."

I turned.

"Whatever happens in there... just remember why you’re doing this."

"...I will."

He nodded once, a small motion, and walked away without another word.

I stood there for a moment, then went inside and lay down on my bed.

Tomorrow, everything changed.