Liddle wakes up, and for once… it’s peaceful.

  The blanket is soft. The room is quiet. A faintly sweet smell drifts in from the window. Her eyes adjust slowly to the light spilling through the curtains, and for a long moment, she just lies there, feeling… okay.

  It’s nice.

  She sits up and stretches, arms wobbling over her head with a soft yawn. Her hoodie has ridden up a bit during the night, so she tugs it down as she scoots to the edge of the bed.

  Then her foot lands on something warm.

  “Ah—!” Markus yelps from the floor, jolting upright with wild hair and sleepy eyes.

  Liddle gasps and stumbles back. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t know you were there—I—!”

  Markus blinks, then laughs and stretches. “No, no—it’s fine. I probably should’ve given you more room. Don’t worry about it. We’ll get you your own bed today.”

  Liddle stands frozen, head down, hands clutched nervously. “Okay…”

  He glances at her, then smiles gently. “How’re you feeling?”

  “I… I’m fine,” she says, not looking up.

  Markus nods and pats the space beside him. “Mind sitting with me? I wanna talk about what you’d like to do today.”

  She hesitates, then steps over and sits down slowly.

  “Maybe we can get you some new clothes,” he says, eyeing the frayed ends of her sleeves. “Something comfortable to sleep in. And something warmer for going outside.”

  Liddle glances up, then down again. “Clothes sound good… but I’m really hungry.”

  Markus blinks. “Oh right! You only had that crème frappuccino yesterday.” He stands and stretches again. “Let’s grab Alexia. There’s this little diner nearby we used to love. I think they’re still open—she’ll be so happy to go.”

  As Markus helps Liddle to her feet, they head to wake up Alexia—only to find her already dressed, tying the laces on her second shoe, halfway out the door.

  “Morning, you two! Great to see you both,” Alexia calls brightly, her voice trailing as she pushes the door open mid-sentence. “And Liddle, you look adorable now that you’ve had some sleep.”

  “Oh… thanks, Alexia,” Liddle mumbles through a lingering yawn.

  “We should totally hang out later,” Alexia adds, slipping her jacket on as she moves. “There was a fire last night, so the Alien Department needs me on-site. Gotta help keep the officers safe.”

  Liddle blinks, her expression shifting from sleepy to puzzled. “What’s the Alien Department?”

  “Oh, we go around stopping aliens, demons, and other bad stuff before it gets dangerous. You know—saving the world, one interdimensional threat at a time,” Alexia says with a grin, waving as she jogs down the steps.

  Liddle’s eyes widen. Confusion turns to worry.

  Markus notices. He raises an eyebrow, trying to read her expression—then it clicks. He remembers how the Alien Department always sounded to outsiders: a bunch of cosplaying cops with toy blasters. Maybe that’s what Liddle is thinking too.

  “Time to go take down some evil demons. Catch you two later!” Alexia calls, scooping up her cat before heading out to her car.

  The moment the door closes, Liddle starts shaking.

  Markus gently guides her to the couch and kneels beside her.

  “Don’t worry,” he says softly. “Nothing’s going to get you. I won’t allow that.”

  Liddle looks up at him, eyes wide. “Do you think… they really get demons?”

  Markus hesitates. “From the sound of it, they don’t. I mean… it’s not like demons just walk in through the front door.”

  His thoughts drift—Demono, Lemres… and the massive dragon looming in their future.

  No. Not now.

  He pushes it away. Liddle needs him calm. Strong.

  “I’ll keep you safe,” he adds. “No matter what’s coming.”

  Liddle looks at him for a long time. Her eyes shimmer—not quite tears, but close. She opens her mouth like she wants to say something… but no words come out.

  Instead, she just nods. Once. Slowly.

  Then she leans forward and presses her forehead gently against his shoulder. Not a hug, not yet—but close. A gesture of trust, fragile and quiet.

  “When you’re ready, we can hit the clothing store,” Markus says, his voice soft as he places a hand on the back of her head—carefully ignoring the hard bump he feels beneath her hair. “I know you’re hungry, but they’ll probably kick you out if you show up in that.”

  “Just a minute,” Liddle whispers, tightening her hold on his shoulder.

  When she finally lets go, they stand in silence for a moment.

  “So, what do you know about this Alien Department?” Liddle asks.

  Markus is eager to break the silence but doesn’t have a great answer. “I wish I could be more helpful, but I don’t know much. Alexia’s aunt—Aunt Linda—wanted to keep me out of the family business.”

  “So you’re not in it?” she asks, sounding a little relieved.

  Markus nods. “Aunt Linda thinks I’d get myself killed. And she’s probably not wrong.” He thinks about the kind of things he’s mixed up in now—like the dragon headed their way.

  “That’s good. So you’re never going to point a gun at me or throw me to the ground.”

  Markus pauses. “You’re right. I never really thought about what would happen if they mistook someone for a…” He gives a nervous chuckle. “Looks like I’ll have to fight them if they mistake you for a demon.”

  “Mistake?” Liddle blinks, then smiles softly. “I mean… thank you. That means a lot.” She stands a little straighter.

  A minute later, they head out toward the Cohl’s clothing store.

  The clothing store isn’t busy—just a quiet little place tucked between a tea shop and a used bookstore. Warm yellow light pools from old lamps hanging from the ceiling, casting soft glows across rows of folded sweaters and hanging coats. A gentle hum of slow jazz drifts from a dusty speaker in the corner, barely louder than the occasional creak of the wooden floorboards.

  The air smells faintly of lavender and clean cotton. Everything is neatly arranged, like someone has taken the time to care.

  Liddle’s fingers brush across a row of soft scarves as she wanders between racks, eyes darting from one item to the next—some with fascination, some with quiet confusion.

  “Anything you like,” Markus says, gently holding up a soft pink dress with delicate lace at the hem and a ribbon at the waist. “I think this would really suit you,” he adds with a small smile. “It’s… kind of cute.”

  “I’ll wear it if it makes you happy,” Liddle says quietly.

  “But do you want to wear it?” Markus asks, his tone gentle but firm.

  Liddle hesitates. A twist of fear coils in her stomach. What if he gets angry? What if he yells or hits her like others had? “I’m sorry,” she blurts, voice trembling. “I just… I don’t feel comfortable in it. I’d rather wear something with sleeves.”

  She braces herself, ready for the worst.

  Instead, Markus simply reaches out and gives her shoulder a light squeeze. “Oh, sure. You want something with long sleeves. Makes sense—especially with the hoodie you’re wearing. I guess we can find you another one without all the holes.”

  Markus follows as Liddle continues browsing until she stops in front of a green hoodie, running her fingers over the soft fabric. “It feels… safe,” she murmurs, hugging it to her chest. “I like this one.”

  “That’ll look great on you, but it’s a little too big,” Markus says. He asks her to try one size down. She turns, and he nods. “Perfect.”

  “Thanks,” she says softly.

  “Okay, now let’s look for pants.”

  It doesn’t take long for Liddle to find a pair of light-wash jeans she likes. After that, they start scanning for shoes she might want to try.

  Markus kneels beside the bench, unboxing a fresh pair of green-and-white sneakers. “Alright, let’s see if these fit,” he says, tapping the side of one like it’s a prized relic.

  Liddle hesitates before slipping her foot in. The shoe hugs her gently—snug but not tight.

  “Too small?” Markus asks, watching her closely.

  She shakes her head, wiggling her toes. “No, they… actually feel nice.”

  Markus smiles. “Let’s try the other one, then.”

  Once both are on, Liddle stands carefully and takes a few steps. The soles are soft, springy. She looks down at them, then up at Markus, almost shyly. “They’re kind of… cute.”

  “Kind of?” he teases, nudging her lightly with his elbow. “They’re totally you.”

  Liddle blushes, hugging her arms close. “Thanks for helping me pick them.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Markus chuckles. “Of course. I wouldn’t let you leave with anything less than perfect.”

  He gently places the sneakers back in the box and carries them up to the counter. After paying, he hands Liddle the bag. “Come on, let’s get you changed.”

  A few minutes later, Liddle steps out of the fitting room in her full outfit—green hoodie, light blue jeans, and the new sneakers. She tugs at the sleeves nervously, unsure of how she looks.

  Markus turns—and freezes for just a second, caught off guard.

  Liddle fidgets. “Oh no… you don’t like it?”

  Markus blinks, shakes his head, and smiles, trying to play it cool. “No, I—I mean, you look amazing.”

  He quickly turns, holding the store door open. “Come on. Hope you like pancakes.”

  As they walk side by side, the July sun beats down. Liddle can already feel sweat clinging to her back beneath the hoodie, but the comfort—the protection—it offers is too important to give up. She hugs it closer, even as the warmth makes her dizzy.

  They pass a fence where a few sparrows hop around, pecking at the grass. Liddle slows, eyes wide, and crouches low. Her sleeves dangle past her fingertips as she watches them with quiet fascination.

  “Oh, you like birds?” Markus asks, stopping a few steps behind her.

  “They’re tiny,” she whispers. “But they don’t seem scared at all.”

  She inches closer, but the birds flutter away in a sudden burst of wings.

  “No— I’m sorry, friends,” she says, flinching. “Didn’t mean to scare you…”

  Markus bites back a laugh, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t worry. They’ll be back.”

  Liddle straightens, brushing her sleeves down and watching the sky. “I hope so.”

  After another minute, they walk into a diner tucked beneath a flickering neon sign, its letters half-buzzed out but still proudly spelling Sunny Side Café. The door chimes with a soft ding as they step inside, and the scent of sizzling bacon and warm syrup wraps around them like a hug.

  Checkerboard tiles stretch across the floor, and red vinyl booths line the walls beneath posters of jazz musicians and soda ads from another era. A jukebox in the corner hums a low tune from decades past. Behind the counter, a waitress in a lemon-yellow uniform gives them a friendly nod without missing a beat on her order pad.

  It’s cozy, a little worn, and full of charm—the kind of place that feels like it has stories in the walls.

  “You seem new here, but this place is kind of a big deal in Ohio, Delaware" Markus says as they slide into a booth with squeaky red cushions. “It was built after World War II—to help local veterans adjust to civilian life. My parents used to bring Alexia and me here all the time when they came back.”

  “Your parents were in the army?” Liddle asks, eyes wide as she looks around, as if the walls might whisper their stories.

  Markus shakes his head. “National Guard. But they still saw a lot. This place… it was their favorite spot. Felt safe, you know? Like the world hadn’t changed too much.”

  A waitress in a red-checkered uniform comes by their table, pen tucked behind her ear and a smile polished by years of routine. “Y’all ready to start with drinks?”

  Markus glances at Liddle, then back at the waitress. “Hot chocolate and a Coke, please. For both of us.”

  The waitress nods, jotting it down. “Good choice. Got a fresh batch on—it’ll warm you right up.”

  “It’s not like you to pass up coffee,” Liddle says, eyeing the menu.

  Markus gives a nervous laugh. “Didn’t want to get you into that bad habit. Once you start, it’s hard to stop.”

  The waitress returns with their drinks, placing the mugs gently on the table. “Hot chocolates,” she says with a smile. “Y’all ready to order?”

  Liddle glances at the menu, then up at Markus. “Um… what do you think I should get? That crème frappuccino was good, so I trust your taste.”

  Markus grins, pointing to the center of the menu. “I think you’d like the strawberry banana pancakes. They’re sweet, soft, and kind of fun.”

  Liddle gives a small nod. “Okay, I’ll have that.”

  “I’ll go with the omelet of the day,” Markus adds.

  “Perfect,” the waitress says, jotting it down and gathering the menus. “I’ll get that right in for you two.” She gives them one last smile before heading off, leaving the soft clink of mugs and the quiet hum of a diner caught between eras.

  The place buzzes softly—clinking silverware, the low murmur of voices, and a slow jazz tune humming from the jukebox.

  Liddle cradles her mug with both hands, eyes fixed on the rising steam. Markus sits across from her, watching the morning sun flicker through the window.

  They don’t speak.

  And that’s okay.

  Liddle glances up and catches Markus’s eye. She gives a small, shy smile.

  When the food arrives, Markus takes a bite of his omelet. The mix of bacon, sausage, and peppers is just as good as he remembers. He glances up—only to find Liddle already halfway through her pancakes, eyes wide with delight.

  “Glad you like them,” he says, smiling.

  “They’re so soft and puffy—and the fruit makes it all taste so sweet,” she says between bites, barely looking up.

  Markus watches for a moment longer before asking, watching her eat half her pancakes already. “When was the last time you ate?”

  Liddle doesn’t stop chewing. “Three or four days ago,” she says casually.

  Without a word, Markus cuts his omelet in half and slides the extra portion onto her plate. Then he takes a sip of his hot chocolate and goes back to eating, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

  When he finishes, he glances over the bill and notices a military discount printed at the bottom—20% off.

  “Thanks for the gesture,” he says, raising an eyebrow, “but I can’t really accept this.”

  The waitress offers a small smile, her eyes drifting to the KIA memorial bracelet on his wrist—a simple metal band, worn smooth with time, engraved with: Spencer. April 3rd.

  “We give discounts to Gold Star families,” she says gently. “Sorry about your loss.”

  Markus blinks once, lips pressing into a quiet line. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

  He slides the bill back across the table, stands, and walks toward the door. Liddle gives a polite bow to the waitress before following him outside without a word.

  “I see why you like it there,” Liddle says, stepping in front of Markus as they walk.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve gone back…” Markus trails off, eyes drifting to the two bracelets he always wears. He sighs quietly.

  “Oh… is something wrong?” Liddle asks, slowing down. She doesn’t understand completely, but she can feel something’s off.

  Markus shakes himself out of it. “No, sorry. Nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking.”

  They pass the same spot from earlier—the sparrows have returned, pecking in the grass as if nothing had changed.

  “You were right. They did come back,” Liddle says, pausing to watch them. Then she jogs a few steps to catch up.

  When they return home, Markus checks the time and notices Alexia still isn’t back. He glances at his phone—no messages. He types one out:

  You ok…?

  A minute later, she replies:

  Yeah. So much paperwork. Will be done soon

  Markus smiles faintly and sends one last message:

  As long as you’re safe.

  Then he closes his phone and leans back, the quiet of the house settling around them.

  The living room is still, save for the distant ticking of the clock and the gentle hum of the air conditioner. Markus sits alone on the couch, bathed in the dim amber glow of the setting sun filtering through the curtains. In his hand, he holds the Mahoishi—the stone pulsing faintly with dormant power, cool and heavy in his palm.

  He turns it over between his fingers, watching the veins of mana shimmer like tiny rivers trapped in crystal. It has taken him this far. Helped him stand toe-to-toe with things no normal person could survive.

  The Morgi Dragon still waits somewhere out there.

  Markus sighs. He looks down at the Mahoishi again, curling his fingers around it.

  Then he turns his head.

  Liddle has curled up at the edge of the couch, her hoodie bunched up like a blanket around her knees.

  Markus stares for a moment longer.

  He loosens his grip on the stone.

  Then, slowly, he slides the Mahoishi back into his pocket.

  Not today.

  Because right now, someone needs him just as he is.

  “Markus.” Her voice is soft, pulling him gently out of his thoughts.

  “Thank you for today,” she says. “To be honest… I thought my life was just a big, never-ending Hehl.” She rubs her sleeve against her cheek, eyes flicking down for a moment. “But today was… nice.”

  Hehl. The word catches Markus’s attention. How does Liddle know it?

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he says, wrapping his arms around her. He gently pulls her hood down and rests a hand on the back of her head. “I’m hoping things get a little easier for you now. But… if I can say something—humans call it hell.”

  His hand drifts up, fingers brushing lightly against one of her horns.

  Liddle freezes.

  She bolts from the couch, panic flashing in her eyes.

  “It’s okay—Liddle, it’s okay!” Markus calls after her, but his words fall on deaf ears.

  Before he can move, the front door slams.

  Liddle is gone.

  Markus rushes out after her, heart pounding.

  “Liddle!” he shouts, scanning the dimly lit street.

  Her hoodie is just a blur at the corner—fast and fear-fueled.

  He sprints after her. “Liddle, please!”

  She doesn’t look back.

  By the time he catches up, she has stumbled into the narrow alley behind the house. She crouches low, hugging her knees, shaking so hard he can see it from yards away.

  Then he sees it.

  The Morgi Rat.

  Its grotesque form twitches in the dark, patches of matted fur clinging to a body half-bone, half-muck. Gnarled claws scrape deep gouges into the cracked pavement as it skulks forward, head low, jaws twitching with hunger.

  Liddle backs up until her shoulder hits the wall. She freezes. Her breath catches. Wide eyes lock on the monster.

  The Mahoishi flares to life in his grip, spilling light across the alley. Twin whips burst from his hands with a crackle of magic.

  The left whip snaps out, wrapping around the rat’s snout before it can shriek. It thrashes, teeth gnashing beneath the binding. Markus strikes hard with the right whip—a sharp CRACK across its back legs—then charges, slamming his full weight into its side.

  It staggers… but doesn’t fall.

  The rat turns, shaking off pain like rain, and locks eyes with Liddle again. She whimpers, too scared to run.

  “No—LOOK AT ME!” Markus shouts, yanking the whip. The Morgi Rat hisses and twists toward him.

  It lunges.

  Markus swings both whips, desperate to keep it back, but it comes low and fast, tail whipping behind it, claws outstretched.

  He braces—he’s not going to stop it in time.

  CRACK!

  A piercing beam of ice erupts from behind him, slamming into the rat’s side. Frost explodes on impact, crawling over its limbs like a living net. The Morgi Rat shrieks, its legs stiffening, eyes wild.

  Markus turns, stunned.

  Liddle stands there, arms trembling, breath ragged—but her eyes… her eyes glow faint blue-white, like moonlight on snow.

  The rat snarls one last time, then stumbles back and vanishes into a jagged black portal. It snaps shut with a pop of displaced air.

  Silence slams down over the alley.

  Markus slowly lowers his whips. His pulse thunders in his ears. The air smells of frost and rot. His legs tremble beneath him.

  And across from him, Liddle is still glowing.

  “Why did you save me?” she asks quietly. “I’m a demon. You should hate me. Everyone else does.”

  Markus walks over and sits beside her on the cracked concrete, his breath still coming hard. He doesn’t answer right away—just looks at her, really looks at her.

  “How could I hate someone as kind as you?” he says, gently brushing her hair back, his fingers grazing between her horns. “You think today didn’t mean something to me too?”

  He pauses, then adds, more softly, “And not just today. All the time we’ve spent together—it’s meant a lot to me. I know you don’t see it in yourself, but… there’s something magical in you.”

  Liddle blinks. “There’s something magical in all demons,” she mutters. “But it’s a demon thing, so I hate it.”

  Markus chuckles under his breath, then pulls out his Mahoishi. The twin whips shimmer into view with a quiet spark of magic. “Guess I had a secret too,” he says, before letting the energy fade.

  Liddle leans into his shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. “Can we really still be friends?”

  Markus doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course.”

  She smiles—a real one, small and bright and honest. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Markus pushes himself to his feet, still sore from the fight, and offers her his hand.

  “Come on. Let’s go home.”

  She takes it.