--: Author's POV: --
The air inside the Watson mansion was thick enough to choke on. It wasn't just the heat from the dozen monitors lining the dining table or the smell of burnt coffee; it was the sheer, vibrating frequency of desperate men at their breaking point.
MJ and Edrix were the twin engines of the search. Their faces were sallow, illuminated by the flickering blue light of satellite maps and decrypted security feeds. While Angelo, Aries, Thyme, Ren, Yuri, and David were out in the field—turning London upside down—MJ and Edrix were the ones feeling the crushing weight of the silence.
"I've got nothing, MJ! The signal at the warehouse district was scrambled by a professional-grade jammer!" Edrix yelled, pulling at his hair. "I can't find them. I can't find *any* of them!"
"Refresh it! Re-route the ping through the private server!" MJ roared, his voice cracking. He was pacing the length of the foyer, his boots clicking like a countdown on the marble floor. "They went for a walk. A simple morning walk! It's nearly dinner time! If anything happens to Jay-Jay, or Keigan or Keiran on our watch..."
He didn't finish the sentence. He couldn't. The thought of Jay-Jay—already fragile, already fading—being lost in the city was too much to bear.
Suddenly, the heavy front doors groaned open. The sound cut through the room like a blade.
--: MJ's POV: --
I spun around so fast I nearly tripped over a power cable. "KEIGAN? KEIRAN?"
They stepped into the light. My heart did a violent somersault in my chest. They looked like they had crawled out of a furnace. Keigan was dirty, his clothes torn, but he wasn't shaking. He stood tall, his face an unreadable mask of cold steel. Keiran, on the other hand, looked like he was barely holding onto his soul, his eyes wide and wet with tears.
I didn't give them a second to breathe. I charged at them.
"Where the hell have you been?!" I screamed, getting right in Keigan's face. "You went for a walk! It's almost dinner time! Do you have any idea what we've been going through? The entire Section E is out there looking for you!"
"Why weren't you picking up your phones?" Ci-N added, his voice bordering on a sob."We've been tracking every CCTV! We thought someone took you! Wait!! Where is Jay? Why aren't you saying anything?!"
I grabbed Keigan's jacket, my knuckles white. "Answer me! Where is Jay-Jay? Is she okay?"
Keigan didn't flinch. He didn't look scared. He just looked at me with a strange, heavy silence, his eyes shifting toward the open door behind him. He stepped to the side, clearing a path, as if he were an usher for something far more important than my questions.
--: Author's POV: --
A shadow elongated across the marble foyer.
Then came the sound. A heavy, rhythmic thud of expensive boots. It wasn't the hurried pace of a victim; it was the slow, deliberate stride of a conqueror.
A figure stepped out of the London mist and into the light of the mansion. He was draped in a charcoal overcoat that was dark with rain and splattered with the unmistakable, copper-scented stains of fresh blood. His jaw was set, his eyes two burning embers of cold, calculated fury.
In his arms, he held Jay-Jay.
She was completely dozed off, her head tucked firmly into the crook of his neck, her pale fingers curled limply into his lapel. She looked like a ghost, protected by a titan.
The mansion went silent. It was a silence so absolute it felt like the world had stopped spinning. MJ's hands fell away from Keigan's jacket. Edrix's phone slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor with a plastic *clack* that no one noticed. "Dayumn"
"K... Keifer?" Felix's voice was a broken, horrified thread. He looked like he was staring at a man risen from the grave. "Is that... are you..."
--: Keifer's POV: --
I didn't look at Felix. I didn't look at any of them. I didn't care about their shock, their grief, or the fact that I had been a box of ashes to them for fifteen days. My world had narrowed down to the weight in my arms and the soft, medicated puff of air against my neck.
"Move," I said.
My voice was a low, vibrating growl that seemed to rattle the windows. It wasn't an explanation. It was a threat.
Josh stepped into my path, his face a mask of total, vibrating confusion. "Keifer, how? Where have you been? We thought you were dead! Jay-Jay—she's been—where have you been while she was breaking apart?!"
"Not now," I interrupted. I didn't turn my head. I didn't give him even a flicker of the warmth we used to share. "We will talk later. I know you all have a lot to ask, andI have lot to tell you. I will explain everything later. Right now, she needs to go to bed. She needs to rest."
I felt him reach out, his hand hovering near my arm as if to check if I were solid. I shifted Jay-Jay, my eyes snapping to his with a predatory coldness that made him recoil.
"Get out of my way," I commanded.
I walked past them. The scent of gunpowder, ozone, and hospital antiseptic followed me like a funeral shroud. I didn't look back at the computers or the maps. I didn't care about the war room they had built.
I kicked the door of the downstairs guest room open. I wasn't carrying her up the stairs. She was too weak, her pulse too thin, and I wasn't letting her out of my sight for even a second.
I laid her down on the bed, her body sinking into the silk. I sat on the edge of the mattress, my hand immediately clamping over hers, anchoring her to this world.
--: Percy's POV: --
I stood in the foyer, staring at the empty hallway. My brain felt like it was short-circuiting. Keifer was alive. He was *here*. He was holding her.
I turned to Keigan. He was standing by the door, his expression still terrifyingly calm, though his chest was heaving. He didn't look surprised to see Keifer. He looked like he was standing guard for him.
"You... you found him?" I whispered, my voice shaking. "How did he... where did he come from?"
Keigan looked at the hallway where the door had just slammed shut. "The King is home, Kuya," he said, his voice void of any emotion except a dark, grim satisfaction. "That's all that matters right now."
I looked at the guest room door. I wanted to scream, to demand answers, to hug him, to punch him for what he put her through. But the air Keifer had left behind was too heavy. The "Ghost" King was back, and the house didn't feel like a war room anymore.
It felt like a graveyard that had just been robbed.
--: Author's POV: --
The streets of London were a blur of rain and neon. Inside the lead car of the search party, the tension was vibrating at a frequency that felt like it would shatter the glass. Angelo was driving, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel, while Thyme and Aries were hunched over their phones, barking orders to the private security teams they had hired.
"Check the CCTV near the old bridge again!" Thyme yelled into his headset. "How can three people just vanish? If Clyde has them, I swear to God I'll—"
Suddenly, the dashboard console chimed. A high-priority call from the mansion.
Angelo hit the speaker button immediately. "MJ? Did you find a signal? Tell me you found them."
There was a long, jagged silence on the other end. All they could hear was MJ's heavy, shaky breathing.
"They're home," MJ's voice finally came through. It sounded hollow, like he was speaking from the bottom of a well. "Keigan and Keiran... they just walked through the door."
"Thank God!" Aries exhaled, leaning back against the seat, his eyes closing in pure relief. "Is Jay-Jay with them? Is she okay?"
"She's here," MJ whispered. There was another pause, a hitch in his breath that made Angelo's blood turn to ice. "But guys... you need to get here. Now. It's not just them. Keifer... Keifer is here. He's holding her."
The car swerved violently as Angelo's foot slipped on the pedal. "What did you just say?"
"He's alive," MJ sobbed on the other end of the line. "Keifer is alive. He just walked in. Just... just get here."
The line went dead.
--: Angelo's POV: --
I didn't think. I didn't breathe. I floored the accelerator, the tires screaming against the wet asphalt. No one in the car spoke. Thyme was staring at the dashboard as if it had just told him the sky was falling. Aries was deathly still.
The fifteen-minute drive felt like fifteen years. When we finally pulled into the driveway of the Watson mansion, the tires skidded across the gravel. We didn't even wait for the engine to stop. We lunged out of the car, sprinting toward the front doors.
Ren, Yuri, and David pulled up seconds behind us, their faces masks of pure, unadulterated terror and hope. We burst through the front doors as a single, frantic wave.
"MJ! KAVIN!" Thyme roared as we hit the foyer.
The scene inside was frozen. KAVIN was leaning against the wall, his face translucent. MJ was sitting on the floor, surrounded by his laptops, looking like he had seen the end of the world. And others were standing nearby looking like they had seen a ghost.
"Where are they?" I demanded, my chest heaving. "Where the hell is he?"
No-one said a word. Ci-N just pointed a trembling hand toward the hallway leading to the guest rooms.
--: Author's POV: --
The group moved like a stampede. They rounded the corner of the hallway, their footsteps thundering on the marble, but they skidded to a halt when they saw Keigan and Keiran.
The brothers were standing outside the guest room door. They looked like they had been through a war—soot-stained, bloody, and exhausted—but they weren't crying anymore. They were standing guard.
"Move, Keigan!" Thyme lunged forward, his eyes wild. "Is it true? Is he really in there?"
Keigan didn't move. He placed a firm hand on Thyme's chest, his expression hard and cold. "Stay back, please. He doesn't want to be disturbed."
"I don't give a damn what he wants!" Aries snapped, his temper exploding. "We've been mourning him for fifteen days! We thought he was ashes! Move out of the way before I—"
The door behind Keigan slowly creaked open.
The light from the hallway spilled into the room, silhouetting a tall, broad-shouldered figure. The man stepped out, closing the door softly behind him with a click that sounded like a gavel hitting a block.
He wasn't wearing the charcoal coat anymore. He was in a black shirt, and the bandages around his chest were visible, seeped with fresh red. He looked older. He looked harder. His eyes were like two pieces of obsidian, cold and sharp enough to draw blood.
It was Keifer.
--: Keifer's POV: --
I looked at them. The F4. My brothers. The people who were supposed to be the strongest men in the city. And they were standing there with their mouths open, shaking like leaves.
The shock on their faces didn't move me. The tears starting to well up in Yuri's eyes didn't touch the ice in my gut. All I could think about was Jay-Jay inside that room, begging me to leave her "dream" because she thought she had to be strong for them.
"Lower your voices," I said.
My voice was a low, vibrating growl that made Ren and Yuri take an involuntary step back.
"Keifer... how?" Yuri's voice was a broken whisper. He looked like he wanted to reach out and touch me, but he was too afraid of what he'd find. "You're alive? What the hell!! You've been alive this whole time while we were—"
"I said lower your voices," I interrupted, my tone dropping into a dangerous, icy edge. I stepped forward, my shadow looming over them, my eyes locking onto Angelo's with a predatory coldness.
"But Keifer, we need to know—" Thyme started, his voice cracking.
"You need to know, but not right now," I cut him off. I didn't offer a hug. I didn't offer an explanation. "We will talk later. I will explain everything when she is okay. Right now, she is dozed off. She is at her absolute limit. If any of you wake her up... if any of you cause her one more second of noise tonight... I will personally show you why she calls me the King. I'll explain everything, just wait."
I turned to Keigan, ignoring the shattered looks on my friends' faces. "Keep them in the living room. If anyone tries to enter this wing, stop them."
"Understood, Kuya," Keigan said, his voice as steady as a soldier's.
I didn't look back. I stepped back into the guest room and locked the door.
--: Author's POV: --
The frantic energy that had defined the Watson mansion for the last fifteen days had finally begun to settle, though it was replaced by a heavy, breathless anticipation. The laptops were still open, but the tracking programs had been closed. There was no more threat to hunt; the monster was gone, and the King had reclaimed his throne.
In the living room, the members of Section E were scattered like wreckage after a storm. Angelo sat with his head back against the sofa, eyes closed, trying to reconcile the image of the burning car with the man who had just walked through the door. Thyme and Aries were speaking in low, jagged whispers, while the others simply sat in a daze, waiting for a sign that the reality they were now living in wouldn't vanish by dawn.
Down the quiet hallway, the door to the guest room remained shut, but the atmosphere around it had changed.
--: Keifer's POV: --
I sat in the dim light of the room, my eyes never leaving Jay-Jay's face. Every time I blinked, I was afraid she would turn back into a memory. I reached out, my thumb tracing the line of her knuckles. Her hand was so small, so pale, but the warmth was returning—slowly, but it was there.
A soft click at the door made me stiffen, but I didn't turn around. I knew the weight of that step.
Keigan walked in, carrying a tray that smelled of roasted chicken and warm broth. He set it down on the small table near the window.
"Kuya, you need to eat," Keigan said softly. "You've lost weight, and your injuries won't heal if you're starving yourself. Tita had the kitchen prepare this as soon as she heard."
I looked at the food, then back at Jay-Jay. The very idea of eating felt like a betrayal while she was still floating in a drugged haze because of me. My stomach felt like it was tied in knots, cold and leaden.
"I'm not hungry," I muttered, my voice raspy.
"Kuya, please—"
"Take the tray," I interrupted, finally looking at him. My eyes were hard. "Just give me her medicine and the water. Put it on the nightstand and take the rest back. I'm not leaving this bed until she wakes up."
Keigan sighed, a sound of weary resignation, but he knew better than to push me when I was in this state. He carefully moved the bowl of medicine and the glass of water to the nightstand, placing them within my reach. He lingered for a moment, looking at Jay-Jay with a pained expression, before picking up the tray of food.
"She's going to be okay, Kuya," he whispered. "She's stubborn, remember?"
"I know," I replied, my voice softening just a fraction. "Go get some sleep, Keigan, make Keiran sleep too. That's an order."
He nodded and retreated, closing the door with a soft *thud*.
--: Author's POV: --
The room fell back into a silence broken only by the hum of the air conditioner and the steady, rhythmic *beep* of the vitals monitor. Keifer didn't touch the water. He didn't move from his seat. He simply sat there, a silent sentinel, his hand anchored to hers as if his own strength could flow through her veins.
Minutes bled into an hour. The shadows on the wall shifted as the moon climbed higher outside.
Then, the silence changed.
It was a small sound—the rustle of silk sheets. Keifer's entire body went rigid. He leaned forward, his heart hammering against his ribs so hard it hurt.
--: Jay-Jay's POV: --
The darkness was losing its grip.
For a long time, I had been drifting in a place where there was no sound and no pain. But now, my senses were returning in sharp, confusing stabs. I could feel the weight of a thick duvet. I could smell the faint, clean scent of lavender laundry detergent. And I could feel a hand—a large, warm, calloused hand—clutching mine.
My fingers flickered. It was a tiny movement, but it felt like I was lifting a mountain.
"Jay-Jay? Baby, can you hear me?"
That voice. It wasn't the distant, echoing version from the white hallway. It was close. I could feel the vibration of it in the air. I tried to move my head, but it felt like it was made of lead. My throat was parched, a desert of thirst.
I forced my eyes to open. The light in the room was dim, but it felt blinding after so much darkness. I blinked, my vision blurry and swimming, until the silhouette beside me began to take shape.
--: Keifer's POV: --
"Jay?" I whispered, my voice breaking.
She moved again. Her head rolled slowly on the pillow, her long hair spilling across the silk. Her eyelids trembled, fighting against the weight of the sedatives, and then—finally—they opened.
She looked lost. Her eyes were glassy, wandering around the ceiling before they slowly, painfully traveled down to find mine.
I held my breath. I didn't move. I didn't want to startle her. I just stayed there, letting her see me.
"Kei... fer?"
The sound of my name, spoken in that fragile, dry whisper, was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. It was better than any victory, better than any crown.
"I'm here," I choked out, leaning over her and cupping her face with my free hand. I didn't care that my tears were falling onto the sheets. "I'm right here, Jay-Jay. You're home. You're safe."
Her brow furrowed, a tiny line of confusion appearing between her eyes. Her fingers twitched in mine, trying to find purchase.
"The... the dream," she rasped, her voice catching. "Why... why hasn't it ended yet?"
"Because it's not a dream, you brat," I said, a small, watery laugh escaping me as I leaned down to press my forehead against hers. I breathed in her scent, closing my eyes. "It's reality. I'm alive, and I'm never letting you go again. Never."
--: Jay-Jay's POV: --
I felt his forehead against mine. I felt the warmth of his breath and the dampness of his tears on my skin. I tried to lift my hand, and this time, it obeyed. I touched his face—the rough stubble, the heat of his skin, the solid line of his jaw.
He was solid. He was real.
The realization hit me like a physical wave, shattering the last of the drugged fog. A sob built up in my chest, sharp and painful.
"You're... you're really here," I sobbed, my fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. "I thought... I thought I killed you. I thought I said those horrible things and then you were gone forever..."
"Hush," Keifer whispered, his voice thick with regret. He pulled me up, wrapping his arms around me and tucking my head under his chin. He held me so tight I could hear the thundering of his heart—a fast, steady rhythm that proved he was breathing. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm the one who let you believe that. But I'm back now. I'm back, and I'm not leaving."
I buried my face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him. The world outside the room didn't exist. The mansion, the F4, the brothers—none of it mattered. The only thing that was real was the man holding me and the fact that, for the first time in fifteen days, I could finally breathe.
.
.
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Author's Note:-
Hey guys, I need to be real with you for a second.
I'm so happy that you're this connected to the story—it truly means the world to me. But as I've mentioned before, my exams are going on right now, and the pressure to upload is becoming a lot to handle.
Lately, the comments are filled with "you forgot us," "just one more," "Upload next please" "I'm dying ' or "don't leave us hanging." Honestly, it makes me feel bad because I'm already struggling to find time to study, let alone write. It has reached a point where I stopped replying to comments entirely. I read them all, but I don't reply because I'm just so stressed—I never do this to you guys, but I really need the headspace right now. (I just replied as I was going to post this chapter.)
I love your enthusiasm, but I'm a student first. I can't study and upload at the same time. Please have some patience and give me the space to focus on my exams. I'm not leaving you hanging on purpose; I'm just doing my best to balance my life.
Thanks for sticking with me.
Sorry if you all felt bad of my words, or felt that I'm being rude.
____