Our Last Time Together

The months passed and the day Mimi left, in 1991, Lizbeth didn't try to stop her, they had been preparing for the farewell for a few weeks. She watched her pack her bag with the efficiency of someone who had been waiting for that moment for a long time. But that didn't make it any less sad for both of them, even though they would stay in touch.

The girl who had once hung from trees and lampposts like a curious animal was now leaving on her own, with an old vehicle and a map marked with improvised destinations. Their goodbyes were not dramatic or laden with promises, just kisses, a tight hug and a "see you later."

Mimi would set off for southern Spain, and then see where the wind would take her. That was the way it was to be. In the meantime, Lizbeth remained in Mari's community, and before long, Shin and Rein arrived after returning from a couple of problems in Australia. The new house felt strangely empty without Mimi, but with Shin there for a few weeks, things were easier. Rein didn't say much about it, although Lizbeth knew she missed Mimi. Although they communicated by phone, it wasn't the same.

Shin didn't take too long to leave again, as he always did. Lizbeth was used to that by now. She stayed in the community with Rein for some time, adjusting to the fey sedentary life, enjoying the calm while it lasted.

But stability was always a mirage.

The community already numbered about seventy people between feys and humans. While the idea seemed promising, it had problems. And that was due to numbers. While being established in numbers gave them the opportunity to take care of themselves, there was a serious problem that, in case there was an attack, they could be captured. That was the main reason why the feys liked to move around the world on their own more than anything else. But it also made them prone to finding themselves in unwanted situations.

And by that time, a rumor was already circulating: in certain parts of the Pacific, some governments aware of the feys' secret had established sanctuaries for them. Many feys from the West were moving in that direction. Lizbeth considered it, but she had her doubts. It seemed to her more a strategic decision than anything else—offering refuge to feys with the aim of increasing their numbers in certain countries. Her past experiences made her wary, and she didn't want to get caught up in any conflict. It was rumored that, during Operation Desert Storm, certain factions of the United States Army had used feys lured with similar bait. It was better to be cautious when something seemed too promising.

In 1994, when life in the Pyrenees began to feel too routine, they moved to another small fey community in the forests of Canada, a more secluded and safer place. There, Lizbeth thought she could finally enjoy some peaceful time with Rein, away from the shadows of war and the tragedies of the past. And she did... until Shin called with news.

Not only did he return, but he arrived accompanied by another fey girl.

Lizbeth was alone in the cabin, watching Rein practice her flight among the trees, raising small clouds of dry leaves with her outstretched wings. Rein was much calmer after so many years of adventure, and that was a good sign. Lizbeth smiled, but she couldn't help a soft sigh escaping her lips. For a moment, she allowed herself to dream of the tranquility of those days, a life without threats or missions, where the only battles were fought with Rein's pranks and imagination.

Rein truly enjoyed reading.

Sensing the absence of words from Lizbeth as she watched her, Rein approached and leaned on her shoulder. "Will she be here soon?" she asked, with her blue eyes shining with anticipation. Lizbeth stroked her hair and nodded slowly. "Yeah… soon. But remember, we don't know exactly when. The important thing is that we're ready to welcome her with patience." Rein frowned, confused, but decided to trust.

Those years living together had truly transformed them into mother and daughter.

Lizbeth smiled and sighed. She was concerned about what Shin had told her on the phone. She had really had quite a few problems taking care of the girl she had found. A fae with a problematic ability.

And maybe a new little sister for Rein… probably? I hope so, she though.

Meanwhile, Lizbeth went over the maps and schedules Shin told her, trying to anticipate the arrival. Every distant sound in the foreset, and every creak in the wooden floor made her glance up. It was strange to feel nervous before meeting someone she had never seen, but she knew this encounter would change the dynamic of the little family they had built again.

Shin had found her in Spain and had hidden her for some time.

Her name was Noki.

Lizbeth barely had time to adjust her thoughts in the couple next days when the rumble of an old Jeep rolled down the forest path in the afternoon.

The vehicle creaked under the weight of years, but there was no mistaking the driver: Shin, arrived as promised. He slowed to a stop in front of the cabin, and Lizbeth's eyes widened as she saw him step out, heading to the passenger seat and carrying someone in his arms.

The girl's hair was purple, her green eyes, slightly taller than Rein's, and her features were sharp, as if life had forced her to grow up too quickly. For a human, she could easily have passed for twelve or thirteen years old. She wore a white one-piece dress, but her bare legs caught the eye.

Shin helped her walk slowly. Her legs dangled awkwardly, wrapped in bandages, and although she could walk, Shin gave her a pair of crutches and she took it, moving cautiously. She seemed almost fragile—yet there was a tension in her posture that hinted at immense power restrained.

Rein would have rushed toward Shin, but the new arrival prevented that. It was better to measure her effusiveness.

Shin approached and kissed Lizbeth.

"Hey, love."

"Hey, love."

After hugging and greeting Rein, attention turned to Noki, who seemed nervous.

"Lizbeth, Rein… meet Noki," Shin said, gently helping her to the cabin's porch. The girl shifted uneasily on her crutches, her eyes flicking between Rein and Lizbeth.

Rein, wings slightly folded, hovered a little closer, curiosity sparkling in her gaze. Noki's eyes lingered on her, intrigued by the way she moved, the subtle grace of her flight even in such a relaxed state. She took a hesitant step forward, almost shy, but Rein's gentle smile drew her in.

"I'm Rein! Welcome!"

"N-Noki. Nice to meet you," she said, in English that revealed a slight Spanish accent. Shin had surely been teaching her several languages.

Lizbeth knelt slightly to meet her at eye level and extended a hand. "Welcome, Noki. We're glad you're here," she said softly. The girl's gaze flicked downward at the outstretched hand, and she bit her lip for a moment, uncertain, then nodded ever so slightly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lizbeth."

"Lizbeth is fine. No need for formalities."

Rein chirped softly, flitting around Noki in small, playful circles. "You'll like it here," she said with confidence, as if assuring the newcomer that no harm would come from this strange, new family.

"So, you're my little sister…"

Noki frowned a bit, and Lizbeth saw for the first time a hint of defiance in her expression. "Little sister?"

"Yes. I'm older than you," Rein said.

"You're a shrimp, and I am taller. I should be the older sister!"

Rein pouted, cheeks puffed out. "Height doesn't matter."

"I don't want a little runt of a sister!"

Rein smiled, though one eye twitched nervously. "Little… runt?"

Obviously, the girls would need some good talks before fully bonding.

"Don't fight, please," Shin intervened.

"Hmph! If we're going to be sisters, at least you should call Lizbeth 'Mom.'"

Noki's eyes softened for the first time, and she allowed herself a small, cautious smile.

"Is it okay if I call you Mama?"

Lizbeth's smile curved nervously. "Call me whatever feels comfortable. Don't force it."

Lizbeth stood and glanced at Shin. Both of them let out a quiet sigh.

Are you really going to bring me someone new every time you show up?

Lizbeth felt a familiar warmth settle in her chest. It wasn't immediate, but she sensed the beginnings of a connection forming—tentative, shy, but promising. And as she watched the two girls regard each other with curiosity and growing… trust?, she allowed herself to hope that their little family might grow just a bit larger, and a little stronger. Maybe too strong in the case of the girls, since Noki ability was really something.

Speed.

Noki's arrival had reached the news in the newspapers in Spain. It had caused an explosion and a crater of enormous size. Fortunately no one was hurt and in the newspaper coverage it looked like the fall of a meteorite, although no meteorite was found. That was called the Sierra de Outes Incident.

Noki was different. She had the fierce look of someone who had been through too much in too short a time. Her skill with speed was a gift and a curse, every time she used it, her body would tear, her skin would break, her bones would suffer. She was not the kind of child one embraced for no reason, but Lizbeth, with all her patience and her way of understanding her own, took her under her wing without hesitation.

Rein accepted her as a younger sister immediately even though they were still fighting and, within days, Lizbeth had a second adopted daughter.

Life in the woods became a curiously warm, almost domestic routine again. Shin, instead of staying with them, decided to stay at a distance, a few kilometers away visiting them every day to train Noki and make sure they were doing well.

Those were the quietest years Lizbeth had in a long time. She would wake up with Rein and Noki arguing over who would make breakfast. She would spend the afternoons teaching them simple but essential things, like studiyng, training, cooking without burning the stove, reading the old books she still kept and of course some fun.

And every night, Shin would leave, a little exhausted but glad that at least that method of keeping his distance seemed to be working. He would stay with them for several hours during the day and then leave again. There were no wars, no chases, no monsters lurking. For the first time, Lizbeth felt like she had something resembling a normal family. Or at least, as normal as it could be for someone like her. Visitors came often, which also helped Noki meet more feys and people with abilities.

And Mimi also came back.

Although they had been in contact every week she returned in 1995, with the smile of someone who had seen and lived too much in too short a time. Lizbeth and Shin greeted her with a long hug, while Rein and Noki surrounded her with excitement. Noki was nervous around Mimi because she didn't know her, beyond what the others had said about her.

Mimi had become more confident, more worldly in the way she moved and spoke, but in the nature she was still the same creature who had once climbed trees no matter who saw her. That was evident in the first few days when she stripped off all her clothes to climb up to the tallest redwoods in the forest to admire the scenery.

Mornings were a lively affair in the cabin. Mimi had taken to joining them in the little domestic battles of Rein and Noki, laughing as she gently mediated, her voice carrying a calm authority that both girls seemed to respect. Shin usually arrived after breakfast.

After breakfast, the four would move outside. Rein practiced her flights among the trees, her wings slicing through shafts of sunlight, while Noki cautiously trained her legs without crutches, moving in short bursts to control the trigger of her speed.

Mimi often stood beside Noki, timing her short sprints with a stopwatch and calling out encouragements. "Steady now… pace yourself. Don't rush until your body is ready. You've got this," she said. Noki would nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she obeyed, careful not to overexert herself. Since Noki's arrival, food supplies had to be replenished quite quickly. Using her ability gave her a terrible appetite. And that was because, in addition to her core, she burned as many calories as a racehorse.

Meanwhile, Lizbeth would hover nearby, watching and guiding Rein as she practiced new aerial maneuvers. Occasionally, she would step in to demonstrate a technique herself, using her years of experience to teach the younger feys the subtle balance between control and instinct. Obviously, she couldn't fly, but the trees gave her the opportunity to teach them how to move better in enclosed spaces.

In the afternoons, the group would wander deeper into the forest, exploring the hidden clearings and streams. Mimi, ever energetic, turned the excursions into games. She would race the girls across fallen logs or challenge Rein to carry objects while flying. "Think of it as training disguised as fun," she would say, her laughter ringing through the trees. Noki, at first hesitant, began to respond with her own bursts of speed, experimenting with sudden starts and stops under Mimi's careful supervision. The clumsy stumbles became fewer with each day, and soon, Noki's movements started to flow naturally, her power more a part of her than a threat to control. Finally, she could walk like a normal person.

Evenings were quieter, with the group settling by the fire. Lizbeth read from old, dog-eared books while Mimi told stories of their past adventures, punctuated by exaggerated gestures and playful commentary. Rein and Noki listened intently, wide-eyed, occasionally chiming in to ask questions or reenact parts of the tales themselves. In those moments, the forest outside faded into the background, leaving only the warmth of the cabin and the bonds forming between them.

By the time night fell, the girls would be exhausted but happy. Lizbeth would watch them curl up together, Rein leaning lightly against Noki as they drifted off to sleep, and Mimi sitting nearby, softly humming a tune she had picked up on her travels. Shin would usually stay for a moment of intimacy with the two, even though they were a little more cautious with Rein and Noki around. Then he would leave for his cabin and return the following morning.

The little family had found a rhythm, a quiet harmony that seemed almost miraculous after years of chaos and battle.

For a whole year, the five of them lived in peace, like a family that had found its own equilibrium. Noki, who at first seemed destined to break with every step, could finally move without hurting herself. She left the clutches entirely so she could finally run normally if she wanted to, or use her super speed if she wanted to. Her speed was still a terrifying talent, but now she mastered it instead of being its slave, as well as braking properly, even though it left her a little hungry and in constant need of calories.

It was a warm year, with days of training in the forest and nights by the fire sharing stories of past travels and battles.

But the calm never lasted. Just when the weather had begun to feel comfortable, the inevitable happened.

Small but strange weather anomalies, omens that Shin seemed to notice early. A couple of strange events in the mountains too, signs of something he could not ignore. Lizbeth knew him too well to try to stop him as he took his coat and said goodbye a couple weeks alter. Shin's departure didn't have much of an impact. Rein had already gotten used to it, and Noki had already prepared for it.

His destination this time was Siberia, and though he promised to return, Lizbeth knew she couldn't count on that in happening too soon in next months. Not quite.

While he was lost in the snow and ice, Lizbeth, Rein, Mimi and Noki received a visit from Leon. It was not a social visit. Leon always brought news, and this time, it was warnings.

For some years now, strange cases had been reported among the feys. Individuals who, for no apparent reason, would gradually begin to feel drowsy and days or weeks later would fall into a deep sleep and not wake up for weeks, months or even years. Some researchers had called it the "hibernation period," a mechanism that allowed the feys' quasi-immortal bodies to process the weight of longevity without their minds collapsing under the weight of decades or centuries.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

This was the origin of many legends or fables of sleeping fairies, but now there was a scientific reason for it. It was both an intriguing and frightening theory. If true, it meant that none of them were safe from falling into the dream at any moment. On the other hand, the effects of this period of hibernation showed up ahead of time, which was a relief.

The conversation left everyone pensive, but for Noki, it meant something more. It aroused her insatiable curiosity. And that was because of Leon's second piece of news.

Leon told them about his new initiative: a medical research center for feys and espers in Tierra del Fuego, funded by Gehirn. An isolated city, built specifically for those from the occult world. Noki was intrigued, and so was Mimi, though Rein had her reservations. Lizbeth shared that concern, but when they consulted with Shin in Russia, he only gave them a warning: "If the place is peaceful, I don't see a problem. Just make sure it is before you stay too long."

With that last word of approval, Lizbeth knew that her little family would once again be divided. It was part of their nature, part of the life they led. But that didn't make it any easier.

The Tierra del Fuego community was a strange, almost surreal place. Rein and Noki adapted quickly, with the youthful energy of those who could finally live among their own without hiding. Lizbeth and Mimi stayed for a while to make sure everything was in order.

They wouldn't have separated, but with the time they had spent together, they knew it would be good for both girls to have some freedom. Leon would be there, along with other acquaintances, so if they got into trouble, they would be sure to let them know. On the other hand, Lizbeth and Mimi knew that the two of them had spent quite a bit of time with Shin.

If their curse could somehow spread through proximity, it was better for the girls to be a little further away to at least ensure that any effect would dissipate with distance. Lizbeth consulted with a reader who had ESP abilities to read people's auras and with two of the best magicians in the city, but they all assured her that they could not detect anything around her, nor around Mimi or the girls.

Perhaps the method for detecting whether the curse spread had not been found, but it was better not to be caught off guard.

The goodbyes took some time, but the two sisters were happy and assured them that they would call every day. There was now something called a cell phone, so they could communicate without that old-fashioned network that had fallen into disuse in the early nineties.

As soon as they saw that the girls could manage on their own, Lizbeth and Mimi resumed their journey. Mexico was a welcome change of pace. Heat, music, vibrant streets full of life and a couple of problems too. They moved from town to town, unhurriedly exploring the far corners, enjoying a new freedom they hadn't had in a long time. Until Van's call came. Miskatonic University had always been a nest of secrets and dangers, but now things were getting worse.

Internal policies had changed and there were rumors that they were trying to reactivate the Armitage Foundation. That change had come about because of the Dark Events. A group was needed to take charge of the investigation and one had already been put together and they needed members.

They could ignore it, but since it was a call from Van they would help her a little without joining it. They met Van in Massachusetts and helped where they could. For years, certain grimoires and documents had mysteriously disappeared from the university. Well-organized thefts, intended to set in motion knowledge that should have remained buried. Lizbeth and Mimi helped recover some of those texts, before they fell into the wrong hands on the black market and a couple of occult groups, but they both knew that was only a temporary solution.

The academy always found a way to play with fire.

Once the job was done, they didn't stay a moment longer than necessary. They said goodbye to Van and, as always, vanished once more into the roads of the kingdom—at least for a while.

By 1997, Mimi had nearly made up her mind. She wanted to travel alone again, to see what else was out there. It seemed to her that Mimi was a little nervous, but maybe it was just her imagination.

But before she left, they met up with Shin one more time. This time, in California. Four months. Four months during which the three of them lived together again, as if time hadn't pulled them apart again and again. Their days passed between the beach and the city, between quiet sunsets and nights that ended with the three of them exhausted in bed. But in the end, their natures resurfaced. Mimi had her path, Shin his own, and Lizbeth… Lizbeth still wasn't sure what to do now. She watched their shadows disappear once again.

She didn't know what to do. She had traveled too much, seen too much, and though the nomadic life had its charm, she was beginning to crave something different. Not stability, exactly, but a change in rhythm. She missed the mechanics—the feeling of taking apart an engine and putting it back together piece by piece. So, without truly needing it—she had a small fortune—she joined a workshop as an apprentice in Arkansas.

The owner, a Vietnam veteran, knew about the feys. One had saved his life during the war. For that reason, he accepted Lizbeth, and his sons, who also worked at the shop, had no choice but to do the same. Their attempts to seduce her failed quickly when she showed she was just as skilled with a wrench as she was with her fists—and her legs.

She rented a small apartment to live in and set about her new life.

And so, she found herself learning again, almost playing, once more among cars. She didn't care about the money. She just wanted to get her hands greasy and relearn how machines worked in this ever-evolving age of technology. For a while, everything seemed fine.

Lizbeth had grown accustomed to the slow cadence of life in Arkansas. Mornings began with the metallic clang of tools striking metal and the scent of oil and gasoline drifting through the workshop. Every bolt she tightened, every engine she disassembled and reassembled, reminded her of a sense of control that few things could give her in such an unstable life. Sometimes, as she worked, she let her mind wander through memories—the adventures that now seemed so far away.

In the afternoons, she allowed herself small pleasures: reading on the porch with a hot cup of coffee, going to the local small-town cinema, watching the birds that perched in the nearby trees, or walking the forest trails to stretch muscles tired from crouching over engines. Rein and Noki visited her whenever they could, bringing stories from life in the southern part of the continent. Lizbeth enjoyed these visits, listening to the girls laugh as they taught each other tricks, feeling that, for a moment, everything was in order. Still, there was a gap in her routine, a silence she could not fill, which made her gaze into the distance with anticipation, wondering when someone would appear to disrupt that balance once more.

[ERROR]

[ERROR]

[ERR-

Until 1998 arrived.

That year, when Lizbeth least expected it, Shin appeared again—this time at the workshop where she worked. The reunion was abrupt but intense. He ran to her as if decades had passed since they'd last seen each other.

[ERROR]

It had only been a year. And yet, when they met, Shin spoke of a mission he had to undertake, something that would keep him far from her.

Although no matter how much she asked, he did not give her all the details.

Lizbeth clutched the edges of the workbench as Shin stepped closer, and his eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her heart thrum.

"I have to leave soon," he said, voice low, almost a whisper. "I have something to do, and it's important. I don't know when I'll be back."

What is happening? Something is wrong. Her hands tightened. "How long?"

"A couple years, maybe," he admitted, his gaze dropping for a moment before snapping back to hers. "I… I don't know."

Lizbeth swallowed hard. "You will come back?"

He hesitated, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. "I will. I'll try to come back as soon as possible. I always try."

[ERR-

A silence fell, heavy with the weight of unsaid things. She searched his face, trying to read a reassurance that wasn't there. Instead, she saw only the same quiet fear she had felt in the shadows of his past missions—a fear he never spoke aloud.

That meeting was different. Despite the familiarity, something had changed.

He had been on many adventures that he hadn't told her about so as not to worry her. She hated it, but that part of her had accepted it as part of their life together.

But something was wrong. She didn't know what, but there was something she didn't like.

The Shin Lizbeth met that day seemed like someone else—more distant, yet somehow closer than ever. The Shin she remembered—strong, confident—now seemed vulnerable, as if a layer of fragility had settled over him.

In their intimacy, Shin was gentle with her, treating her with a tenderness and passion she had never seen before. It was as if he saw her as something too delicate, something that might vanish with the slightest breath. Every touch was soft, painstakingly gentle, as if he feared breaking her. She didn't know what had happened to him, and asking brought no answers. She only knew that in that moment, all he wanted was to hold her.

Lizbeth felt something was wrong. Deep down, something told her this wouldn't be a simple goodbye. She didn't understand why, but that strange feeling clung to her like a shadow—even in the warmth of Shin's arms. Still, she surrendered completely, savoring the embraces, the caresses, and kisses.

They made love as if it were the last time, as if the world around them was collapsing and they had only each other in that fleeting moment of ecstasy and stillness.

That night, Shin treated Lizbeth like never before. It was as if he were no longer the same man—as if he'd become someone else, someone afraid of losing her, someone afraid their bond might vanish forever. Lizbeth, though confused, let it happen. She felt there was something they had to fulfill, something beyond themselves, something whispering that this would be the last time they'd be together like that for a long, long while.

They said goodbye at dawn, few days later, with the promise to keep in touch, even if it took a while.

Shin held her hands lightly, his thumb brushing her knuckles before cupping her face gently, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Fri… take care of yourself."

"I will," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "And you… try not to be a stranger."

He gave a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

Lizbeth nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Then promise me one more thing."

"Anything," he said, leaning closer.

"Promise me you'll come back… somehow. No matter what happens."

[ERROR]

His eyes softened, haunted and weary. "I'll do my best. Always."

They stood like that for a long moment, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other in.

He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead before stepping back.

"I'll see you later," she said, smiling weakly.

Shin nodded. "Until next time," he said.

It was the first time he had ever said that in a farewell.

She didn't speak as she watched him walk to the car, his figure framed by the first pale light of dawn. His gaze lingered briefly, filled with a kind of calm desperation, like someone who already knew fate wasn't on his side.

Lizbeth remained in the solitary house in Arkansas, a knot in her stomach and the sense that something had changed forever. She didn't know why, but she was sure they wouldn't see each other the same way again.

A sense of unease rooted itself in her chest, and despite the promise they'd made to stay in touch, Lizbeth couldn't shake the fear surrounding her.

She tried to contact Mimi.

[ERROR]

No response.

Strange.

She had spoken to her before Shin arrived. Now that she thought about it, Mimi had already begun spacing out her calls over the past month.

***

Time passed, and that year, communication between them dwindled. Shin was busy with his mission, and Lizbeth sank into her daily life. Mimi, traveling the world, only spoke to her a few times, always with a tone that seemed worried, though she never said what was going on.

Even so, letters from Shin arrived, and occasional calls—but his words felt hollow, as if he was drifting away, not just physically, but emotionally. The notes could be summarized as: I'll be busy, are you okay? The girls? Have you heard from Mimi? I love you, I miss you. Short notes without too many details, not even one of those dirty jokes that they sometimes made in private.

Lizbeth tried to keep hope alive, but the ominous feeling inside her only grew stronger with time.

Then came Christmas Eve, 1999.

Shin didn't call.

He had always called on Christmas, even when they were apart. Mimi did call, but the conversation was short, though Lizbeth noticed a hint of cheer in her voice again. Rein and Noki called. Emmeline, Nitocris, Oxy, Mari, Leon, Van, and many old friends called, too.

But Shin's call never came.

What did come was a horrible nightmare.

A dream she hadn't had in a long time.

A huge but blurry pyramid. Hands grabbing her. And then Shin being swallowed up by something dark. She woke up in a cold sweat and could hardly sleep for the rest of the night.

She got up and called Mimi's number. A recorded voice told her it was out of service.

Stupid cell phones.

Lizbeth couldn't shake off the sense of foreboding. There was something in the air, something that made her uneasy. That night, as she stared at the full moon through the window, a strange silence took hold of the world—like everything around her had suddenly stopped. Lizbeth was used to those moments of internal tension, moments when everything felt unreal. But that night, something was different.

The next morning, the cell rang.

"What?"

Lizbeth picked it up, a chill running down her spine.

The voice on the other end wasn't Shin's, but it was someone she had known for a long time. Yuki, a yokai fey living in Tokyo, bringing news.

[Lizbeth… Shin…] the voice trembled. Lizbeth opened her eyes, almost knowing what she was about to hear.

[Something's happened. They found his coat here in Tokyo.]

The world crumbled beneath her feet.

"His coat?"

[Yes… that coat he always wears.]

It was the magical trench coat that could store anything non-organic inside. She knew it too well.

He had worn it for years. It had been a gift crafted during his early days at Miskatonic University. The only time he had been without it was during that incident with the airplane—when the coat had been left behind in the one they deployed from before switching to the target aircraft. Shin never liked being apart from that coat. He said he kept the most important things in it, so he could always carry them on a journey.

"And him?"

[He's gone. Our network detected him entering Tokyo a week ago, but last night one of our seers and a kuchiyose detected a large spiritual energy source in Ikebukuro. There've been strange movements lately, but last night was the strongest. When we deployed, we found the coat in an alley. And he… he wasn't there.]

Lizbeth left work in a rush, saying goodbye to the owner and his sons. They were surprised, but seeing her so shaken, they knew something had happened—something personal.

She took the first flight to Tokyo, her chest slowly collapsing inward with every mile.

Upon arrival, she went to the special team that solved urban problems involving feys in Tokyo, called the Marebito Squad. There, they told her about the situation.

She called everyone she knew, but no one heard anything about him.

Shin had vanished. No one knew how or why. The few leads she had took her straight to Ikebukuro—the last place he'd been seen.

She searched in the busiest districts and the darkest alleys. Checked records. Spoke with contacts in the fey community, including the kuchiyose itako who'd detected the energy—Miho Sagara. Nothing. She even consulted espers who could see beyond the veil of reality. Still nothing. As if he had simply vanished into thin air. The only reason she'd been contacted at all was a note left inside Shin's coat. A note that said, if anything were to happen to him, the coat should be returned to Lizbeth.

And now it was in her hands—with no idea what to do with it.

A week passed. Rein and Noki met with her.

She clung to the coat like an anchor and boarded another flight—this time to Arkham. Miskatonic was a den of trouble, but the Armitage Foundation might have answers. Or so she hoped.

As she traveled toward Arkham, she forced herself not to think the worst. Shin wasn't the kind of man who simply vanished in action. Well… he was. But now was methodical, obsessive with his contingency plans since his plane accident, always with an escape route—Plan C, D, or even E.

Maybe the coat was just a distraction.

Maybe he had left it on purpose for someone else to find. "This isn't a goodbye," she kept telling herself. "It's a code. A trap. A decoy." But the more she repeated those words, the heavier her chest became, as if the lie she was trying to build for herself was already collapsing, soaked through by grief.

The academics, some closed friends of her and Shin, examined the coat thoroughly but didn't have much to offer.

The ones who had created it had died long ago, and the archives about its making were scarce. The only thing they could confirm was that the inner lining was an OOPArt—an out-of-place artifact, something that shouldn't exist in this era. Maybe that was the key. They proposed an experiment to unfold its Dirac spatial structure, but it was a risk. One mistake and they could end up trapped in an absolute frozen void.

The night before the experiment, Lizbeth stayed alone in one of the guest rooms on campus, wrapped in a coarse blanket that did nothing to ease the cold inside her. The coat rested on the chair—silent, inert, but staring back at her like a witness holding its breath. She wondered if she was doing the right thing. What if opening that void revealed something worse? What if this time she truly lost him, for good? For a fleeting moment, she considered walking away—leaving it sealed, untouched, a capsule of memories frozen in time. But she couldn't. Not when there was still a sliver of a chance, however improbable. At the very least, she needed to know.

They chose an empty hangar, far from the university, in case things went wrong. Lizbeth didn't blink. She had nothing left to lose.

The experiment worked. For a moment, the space around them froze—nearly fifty meters in diameter, suspended in a strange limbo. Then, the interior of the coat opened like a rift in the universe, unfolding. There was no sign of Shin—but there was something else. Piles of books, notebooks written in various languages, weapons of all kinds: swords, spears, ancient and modern firearms. All neatly stored within that impossible space.

But amid the chaos, something stood out. A few books with a handwritten title on the cover: The Most Important.

Lizbeth took them with trembling hands and opened them, feeling something inside her break a little more with every page.

They weren't battle logs. Not catalogues of Dark Events or monster entries. Not strategic maps.

They were photographs. Captured moments in time. Not many of Shin himself—but plenty of everyone else. Lizbeth. Mimi. Rein and Noki. Svetlana and Feodor. Leon, Gehirn, and many more.

Friends. Allies. Faces that had shaped his life. A story told in images. A silent testimony to what truly mattered to him.

She turned the pages again and again, searching, hoping to find a clue, a message—something that would tell her what had happened to Shin.

But there was nothing.

Only memories.

Only confirmation that, wherever he was, he had left what mattered most in a safe place.

But there was no further trace of what had happened.

Among all the things that had spilled from the coat, Lizbeth found a cellphone. She thought maybe there would be a clue there. But when she turned it on, she found only one contact—labeled B.K. She tried calling it. But even that led nowhere. No one answered at first. And when finally someone did, Lizbeth didn't recognize the voice. The person claimed to be a friend of Shin's, but he, too, had no idea where Shin might have gone.

The scholars of the newly reformed Armitage Foundation gathered all the materials and placed them back into the fabric, which they folded again with the help of the most skilled in magic. Lizbeth had made the decision herself, though she kept a few books and journals.

The premonition she had felt for so long had finally solidified into a truth she didn't want to accept.

Shin had vanished.

Again.

And for the first time, she felt different. Something told her that this was different. But there was no way he could be dead. Perhaps an accident like the plane crash? It wasn't possible. It had to be something else. That last visit. She should have slapped him to make him tell her what it was all about.

The mission he had taken on, his mysterious quest—it had all ended in a way so cold, so final, that Lizbeth couldn't comprehend it. The man she had loved, the one she had shared so many moments with, was gone. And maybe she would never hold him in her arms again.

No words. No tears. Lizbeth remained there, unable to fully process what had just happened.

Mimi called her, but only to apologize through sobs, saying she couldn't be with her just then. She was crying, but they wouldn't reunite—not now. What was going on? The pain, the emptiness, everything Lizbeth had feared, was now pressing down on her like an unbearable weight.

There was nothing more to say. That final time Shin had been with her—that strange sense that something had changed—now made sense. The love, the goodbye, the last gesture of tenderness… it had all been a farewell. A final farewell Lizbeth never saw coming.

Shin was gone, and with his departure, something inside Lizbeth shattered.

But that wasn't enough. She couldn't just leave it at that. She couldn't accept that he had simply disappeared.

Not yet.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.