The dust had settled.
Their faces clean, hands rinsed, and sweat mostly dried, the group followed Kola quietly through the front door. One by one, they removed their shoes and lined them up just outside—Dian, Jalu, and Lila whispering a soft "excuse me" as they stepped inside his home for the first time.
The entry opened to a humble living room. The floor was hard cement, cool beneath their feet, rough and unfinished. The space was dim—lit not by bulbs, but by softly glowing modified candles embedded in old bottles. Their flame flickered faintly through a thin layer of glass and wire—a design cobbled together by Kola himself during his early days in physics class.
Omegamon, perched on Kola's shoulder, lowered his voice. "So this is... your real home."
Kola nodded slowly, his eyes sweeping across the room.
The small living area held a worn couch with flaking vinyl, its arms padded with a checkered towel to hide the worst of the peeling. A wooden table sat at the center, atop which rested a small plastic vase with roadside flowers—picked, not bought. Two plastic chairs flanked the table, slightly mismatched in color.
Oren had already claimed a spot on the couch. His black fur made him a shadow against the faded cushions. Blumon rested lazily on Dian's shoulder, blinking slowly, as if absorbing the room.
None of them spoke for a few seconds.
Dian raised an eyebrow as she looked around, but said nothing. She didn't seem bothered.
Kola noticed.
That girl never cared about things like this, he thought. As long as everything... was okay.
Jalu finally spoke, voice careful.
"It's... really quiet here."
"Yeah," Kola replied.
The boy hesitated. "But it feels lived in. Like... every corner has a reason."
"And smells like ginger," added Lila softly.
"It's from the herbs," Kola said, correcting himself. "Sella usually boils roots when she has time. Helps with the air."
The little girl gave a small nod of approval.
Kola called out, gently. "Sella?"
There was a short pause, and then, from the hallway, came the soft sound of footsteps.
A girl appeared.
She was around Jalu's age—twelve for exactly. Her face was a bit sun-darkened, cheeks round and forehead damp with sweat. Her long black hair was tied into a low, lazy ponytail. She wore a faded t-shirt, pale with wash, and long pants worn thin at the knees. She looked nothing like Dian, nothing like Lila. Not spotless. Not polished. Just... real.
She blinked, startled to see so many guests.
Kola smiled gently. "Where were you?"
"Out back," Sella answered, slightly breathless. "Picking cassava leaves."
"Ah, right. Come here a second. I want you to meet my friends."
Sella stepped closer. Her eyes scanned Jalu, Lila, and Dian—curious, shy.
"These are my friends," Kola said softly. "They helped me through a lot."
Sella nodded slowly. "Nice to meet you."
Jalu stepped forward with his easy smile. "Hi, I'm Jalu. This is my cousin Lila. And that's Dian."
"H-hello," Sella said, bowing slightly. Her voice was soft but sincere.
She wrung her hands together and looked up. "Would you... like some tea?"
"That's okay," Dian started to say, but Jalu interrupted cheerfully.
"We'd love some. Thank you!"
Dian gave him a look. Jalu grinned. Lila just stood silently, smiling faintly.
"Okay, I'll go make some," Sella said, disappearing into the kitchen.
Kola smiled to himself, but before he could speak, Omegamon floated upward and slowly turned to study the path Sella had taken.
"She looks like you," the knight said.
Blumon hummed in agreement.
Jalu tilted his head. "Well, yeah. She's his sister."
But Sella had paused at the corner.
"Wait—who said that?"
Kola glanced at her and blinked innocently. "Huh? Said what? I didn't hear anything."
Kola blinked. "Ah. Right. She can't see him."
"Her eyes can't perceive my form," Omegamon confirmed.
"Just pretend it's the wind," Dian suggested.
"A polite wind," Lila added.
Everyone chuckled softly.
Then Lila asked, more seriously, "Where's your mom, Kola?"
Kola's smile faded a little.
He stood. "Come on. I'll show you."
He led them down the short hallway. The walls here were narrow and bare, the floor slightly uneven. A single door waited at the end.
He opened it.
Inside, the room was dark, lit only by a modified candle in the corner. The bed sat low against the far wall, surrounded by silence. A figure lay there, fully under a white sheet—from foot to head.
Dian's voice was quiet. "Why is she covered like that?"
Kola stepped inside, moving slowly.
"The kids who play outside get scared. The neighbors complained. Said her face scared their children. So... we keep her covered."
He pulled the sheet slightly to reveal the pale outline of a woman's face. Her skin was almost translucent. Eyes shut. Lips colorless. Breathing shallow.
He sat on a chair beside the bed, already placed there from habit.
Then—a twitch.
Her fingers moved.
Kola tensed.
"Mom..."
"Kola..." Her voice was faint. A whisper full of air and pain.
"No, no—don't talk, Mom," he said quickly.
But it was too late. Even that tiny strain of her throat caused a thin line of blood to appear beneath the sheet.
Gasps broke out.
Lila's eyes widened. Jalu stepped forward instinctively. Dian's hand flew to her chest.
Even Omegamon hovered in stunned silence.
Blumon clung tighter to Dian's shoulder.
And Oren, from the hallway, let out a single low meow.
Kola placed his hand gently over his mother's and closed his eyes.
"It's okay," he whispered.
"We're here."
—
A faded clock above the old cupboard ticked softly in the background. Jalu glanced up at it. The hands pointed clearly to seven in the evening.
In the center of the family room—a space only a few feet away from the front living area with no walls or dividers—lay a large woven mat. The room was plain, stripped of decoration and distractions. No television. No shelves full of books. No glowing screens or buzzing electronics. The only light came from several handmade candles affixed to the walls—glass jars wrapped in copper wire, each glowing softly with wax and science, inventions born of Kola's ingenuity.
Still, the house didn't feel dead. Just... quiet.
Jalu sat cross-legged on the mat with Lila beside him. Oren lay curled up near her feet, his black fur almost blending into the shadows. Omegamon floated quietly nearby, while Blumon sat contentedly on Lila's knee.
Soon, footsteps echoed lightly from the back of the house.
Dian entered first, nudging Jalu's leg with her foot. "Move, you're in the way."
"Hey—ow," Jalu muttered, scooting aside.
They placed the dishes at the center of the carpet, one by one. Golden fried chicken. Grilled fish, crisp at the edges. Stir-fried kangkung, glazed with garlic. A heap of steaming rice in a large enamel bowl. Fried tempeh stacked like small bricks. Even a tray of battered shrimp, still hot from the oil.
Sella returned moments later, arms full with a plastic water jug and a handful of stacked plastic cups. She moved quickly, with quiet determination, placing everything with care. Kola passed out spoons and rice, scooped from a rice cooker that had definitely seen better days.
The table was the mat. Their dining room was the floor.
"Let's eat," Kola said simply, sitting down without ceremony.
Everyone followed suit, forming a circle around the dishes.
But Sella, still crouching beside the jug, tilted her head. "Wait... you guys didn't bring anything. Where'd all this food come from?"
Kola blinked, then gave a short laugh. "Ah, Its just came... late."
A soft flashback stirred behind his eyes.
Earlier, just after visiting Kola's mother, Kola had quietly asked Dian and Lila to help. He'd pulled out the last of his cash—crumpled bills tucked deep in his backpack.
"Take this," he whispered, counting roughly nine hundred thousand. "Use teleportation. Head to the restaurants or eatery around the campus. Get something warm. Real."
Lila hesitated. Dian blinked. "Wait—teleportation?"
Kola gave a small nod. "Yeah. She can jump through space."
Dian's eyes widened. "Hold on—you can do that? Like actually teleport?"
Lila shrugged. "Only places I've already been to. Distance doesn't really matter—as long as I've seen it before."
Still stunned, Dian slowly took the money. "Okay... That's new."
"Leave it to us," she said finally, tugging Lila by the wrist.
When they vanished, Kola simply returned to sit beside his mother.
Now, in the warmth of the family room, the result of that request was laid out before them.
Conversation buzzed as they began to eat. Jalu immediately claimed the biggest piece of chicken. Dian smacked his hand. He retaliated by nudging her knee. Lila, as usual, remained quiet, eating slowly and neatly.
Sella still looked puzzled.
Dian noticed.
"Hey," Dian said, nudging her with an elbow. "You'd better eat quick. This kid's got a bottomless stomach." She jabbed a thumb toward Jalu, who looked up mid-bite.
"Excuse me?" he protested, rice stuck to his cheek.
"You heard me," she smirked.
Sella gave a small laugh, finally picking up her spoon.
The mood lightened.
But a moment later, Lila's voice cut gently into the warmth.
"Kola," she said, "what about your mom?"
Kola's hand paused briefly.
"She can only eat porridge," he said. "Soft stuff. She doesn't swallow well. It's complicated, but... it's fine. Don't worry too much."
He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
None of them pressed further.
Except Omegamon, who tilted slightly beside Lila, his digital visor gleaming.
He had been silent, but his attention hadn't left Kola's face.
—
Earlier, after Lila and Dian had vanished to retrieve food, Omegamon had floated quietly into the hallway.
"Kola," he had said. "Your mother. My internal readings… I couldn't scan her condition. There was interference. Error."
Kola had frowned. "What kind of error?"
"Its... I'm not sure..." Omegamon whispering.
Jalu had stood nearby, silent.
"Let me try something," the boy finally said.
Kola hesitated—but nodded.
Jalu stepped forward, hands raised slightly above the woman's body. His fingers trembled faintly.
"Ictus," he whispered.
A soft green light burst gently from his palms, wrapping the body in a glow. It pulsed, slow and searching.
Kola watched in silence, barely breathing.
Omegamon's sensors blinked rapidly.
But then—Jalu's hands shook harder. His eyes narrowed. Sweat dotted his brow. "It's not working," he muttered. "Why isn't it working?"
His body began to sway.
"Stop," Kola said. "You're pushing yourself too hard."
"I just need—"
"Stop."
Omegamon agreed. "Your stats are spiking. You'll crash."
With a final gasp, Jalu dropped his hands. The glow vanished.
He clenched his fists. "Damn it."
"It's okay," Kola whispered. "You tried. That's more than enough."
Jalu sat back, breathless.
Now, hours later, he still sat quietly on the mat, chewing slowly, lost in his thoughts.
None of them knew what was wrong with Kola's mother.
But all of them—without saying it—had silently promised the same thing:
They would not give up.
—
The sun had long dipped below the horizon by the time dinner ended. The air had cooled, and a hush had fallen over the forest edge.
Kola stood on the front porch, just outside the door, leaning against one of the support beams. Omegamon sat quietly atop his head, his tiny metal feet dangling near Kola's ears.
In front of him, the world was swallowed in darkness.
The trees surrounding his house were old, tall, thick—crowded close enough that they swallowed nearly all distant light. Somewhere, just past the treeline, he knew there were other homes. But from here, nothing could be seen. No flickers of life. No porch lamps. Just dense, unmoving shadow.
The house felt like an island cut from the rest of the world.
Behind him, in the living room, the others sat in a small circle around the worn carpet. Jalu was still flipping through the Book of the Fallen Stars, his brows furrowed in concentration. Lila, sitting beside him, was carefully emptying the contents of her pouch.
Out came a small pistol, several bronze coins, a couple rubber bands, hair ties, a pen, and a handful of polished pebbles.
Jalu peeked at the last one. "Why do you carry rocks?"
"They're shiny," Lila replied.
Kola could hear their voices—soft, familiar, oddly warm.
Then a new voice joined them.
"Hey, where's Kola?" Dian's voice came from the back of the house.
Jalu lifted his thumb and pointed toward the front door without looking up from the book.
Still inside, Dian shifted Blumon gently to her shoulder and padded barefoot toward the porch. When she found Kola standing under the dark sky, she snorted a quiet laugh.
"Your kitchen's wild, you know that?"
Kola blinked. "Sorry?"
She held out the money that Kola gave to her this afternoon.
"Here. Your money."
He stared at it, confused. "Wait, I gave you all that money for the food. Why're you giving it back?"
"I paid for it," she shrugged. "I treat."
Kola hesitated. "But... that's not fair."
"We're friends, aren't we?" Dian said simply. "After everything that happened yesterday... come on. Just accept it. Seriously."
She gave him a light pat on the shoulder before heading back inside.
Omegamon remained silent for a beat.
Then, gently: "Are you alright, Kola?"
Kola inhaled, slow and deep. "Yeah. I'm fine."
"You're not."
The voice was soft, unsure.
Then Omegamon added, quieter still: "I'm sorry."
Kola's breath caught.
"What?"
"I'm sorry I couldn't help your mother."
Kola's eyes widened. He stiffened.
"What are you talking about? That's not your fault."
His fists clenched slowly at his sides. His jaw locked. His voice quivered with the effort to hold something down.
"Why would you ever say that?"
"I failed—"
"No." Kola cut him off, voice shaking. "Don't. Don't say that. You don't get to apologize to me."
He reached up, cradling Omegamon in his palm for the first time in a while. "You've been with me through everything. Protected me. Helped me. You're more than I could've asked for."
His voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm the one who should say sorry. I've relied on you too much. I didn't protect anyone. Not my mom. Not Sella. Not even you."
The tears didn't fall.
But they were close.
"This isn't fair," he muttered.
Omegamon didn't reply. But his soft hum, his faint glow, wrapped around Kola like a nod.
———
Later, the group gathered at the front of the house.
Sella stood by the doorway, watching them prepare to leave.
In the mother's room, Kola stood one last time near the foot of the bed. He didn't reach out—just stood there, a silhouette under the candlelight.
"I'll come back soon," he whispered.
There was no response.
Only the slow, shallow rise and fall of her breath.
When he stepped outside, the others were already waiting.
Kola reached into his pocket and handed all the remaining money he had to Sella.
"I've got a job now," he said gently. "From now on, I'll send money every week. You won't have to worry about the medicine."
Sella held the bills with both hands. She nodded.
"Okay."
Then Dian stepped forward, holding a large plastic bag.
"Here," she said. "Soap. Shampoo. Sunscreen. Room spray. Perfume. You name it. Use it all."
Sella blinked, surprised by the weight. "It's heavy—"
"You'll manage," Dian said, smiling.
Everyone chuckled lightly.
As they turned to leave, Jalu glanced at Kola. "So... how're we getting back?"
Dian pulled out her phone. "I called a car. That new app just launched today."
"App?" Kola blinked. "You mean the green one?"
"Gojek," Omegamon said.
"Eh? How do you know that?" Jalu raised a brow.
Omegamon's voice chimed in from his perch, perfectly flat: "Well... Im Omegamon."
They laughed.
And behind them, only Lila turned back to glance at the old wooden house—where Sella still stood quietly in the doorway.