Today, the air of New York carried a different kind of intoxication. Just a year ago, where death had danced wildly, life was now flourishing in all its glory. The terror of Orobas had faded into nothing more than a page in old books—something people dismissed as a "mass hallucination" or a terrible dream. But for the Ghost Mentors, those wounds had become their greatest strength.
In the city's most luxurious garden, a sea of lights shimmered in celebration. The fragrance of white roses was so deep that everyone who arrived felt a sense of peace wash over them. Today was the wedding of Claire and Michael—a wedding that even the walls of Hell had once seemed to wait for.
Claire, who had once returned from Hell as a warrior, looked completely innocent and divine today. Her white wedding gown flowed over her beautiful figure like a golden cloud. The face that had once burned with fear and anger now glowed with blush and happiness.
