A New Home

Turai and Hubert moved silently through the street, the weight of their recent battles lingering in the air.

The results of their battle had left the streets deserted. There had been a loud explosion that rocked the vicinity minutes ago. It was the result of the grand motel blowing up and collapsing.

Their destination was the new shelter—a place Hubert had arranged for the orphaned children to find refuge after the horrors they had endured.

Turai's steps were steady, but inside, a mix of emotions churned, the anticipation of seeing the children safe driving him forward.

When they arrived, the building loomed quietly in the darkness, a stark contrast to the chaos they had left behind. The entrance was modest, but it exuded a sense of security, something Turai hadn't felt in a long time. As they stepped inside, the quiet was immediately broken by the soft murmurs of children, and Turai's heart swelled as he took in the sight before him.

"It's Turai!"

"It's him. The one that saved up!"

"Big brother Turai is so strong!" A third person added even though they hadn't personally seen Turai in action.

All the children of the orphanage were there, not a single one missing. The room was filled with small faces, some still bearing the traces of fear, but now those expressions were slowly giving way to hope. Turai's lips curved into a rare smile of fulfillment. This—seeing them safe—was worth all the battles and pain.

His gaze scanned the room, looking for one face in particular. When he finally saw Mrs. Benson, the woman who had owned and managed the orphanage, it was a moment too late. She had already crossed the room and wrapped him in a tight hug from behind, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Turai," she sobbed, her voice trembling with emotion. "I thought… I thought I'd lost you. I thought I wouldn't see you again. I thought you were facing it all alone…"

Turai stood still, letting her tears soak into his dirt and bloodstained shirt as she clung to him. Her words came in waves, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and lingering fear. She had been through so much, watching over the children, fearing the worst for them and Turai. But now, against all odds, they were all safe. The children were safe. And Turai had come back to them, whole and victorious.

"It's okay," Turai whispered, his voice soft but firm. "We're all okay now."

After a while, as Mrs. Benson regained her composure, the children began to settle into their new surroundings. Hubert had chosen the shelter well; it was sturdy, spacious, and safe—a new beginning for all of them. Turai watched as the children explored their new home, their laughter slowly returning, the shadows of fear lifting from their young faces.

Once things had calmed down, Turai excused himself and went outside to meet Hubert and the others who had helped him. The air was warm, and as he approached them, he felt a deep sense of gratitude welling up inside him.

"One by one," Turai began, addressing the group, "thank you. It wouldn't have been easy without your help. I… I'm touched that you went out of your way for us. I'd be glad to repay whatever way I can."

The men looked at him, each with a different reaction. Hubert, always the stoic, shrugged off the boy's thanks with a casual wave. "I did it because I felt like helping out, kid. Don't make a big deal out of it."

Gareth, standing beside Hubert, grinned widely. "If you really want to repay us, how about joining our team? You've got skills, kid. We could use someone like you."

The others nodded in agreement, each offering their own words of encouragement. They had seen what Turai was capable of, and in their eyes, he was more than just a boy—he was a warrior.

As the group began to disperse, ready to leave the shelter in the capable hands of Mrs. Benson and Turai, Hubert pulled Turai aside. He handed him a rolled-up document, the paper crisp in the dim light. "This is for you," Hubert said, his tone serious.

Turai unrolled the document and scanned the contents. It was the deed to the building. Hubert had bought it outright, providing the children with a permanent home.

"It's yours now," Hubert added, seeing Turai's wide-eyed expression. "For the kids."

Turai swallowed hard. He knew that such a place wasn't cheap, and yet Hubert had handed it over to them without a second thought. The boy, often stingy with words of gratitude, found himself struggling to express the depth of his thanks. "Hubert… this means a lot. I… I'll take good care of it."

Hubert simply nodded, his usual stoicism hiding whatever emotions might have been brewing underneath. With a final pat on Turai's shoulder, Hubert turned and left with the rest of the group, leaving Turai standing alone in the night.

As they disappeared into the darkness, Turai turned back toward the building, clutching the deed tightly. He had never been one for grand displays of emotion, but he made a silent vow to himself. This place would be more than just a shelter—it would be a home, a sanctuary for those who needed it most.

Returning inside, Turai joined the children and Mrs. Benson, helping them to settle in. There was much to do—setting up beds, arranging supplies, making the place feel like home. The warnings from Otto still replayed in his head but for the first time in a long while, Turai felt at peace.

---

Far from the new shelter, in a distant land, a glowing orb sat in the center of a dimly lit room. The orb, once a serene green, suddenly shifted to a deep, menacing red. The room's only occupant, a man with a stern and frightening expression, watched the transformation with narrowed eyes.

He frowned as the orb pulsed ominously, the red light casting eerie shadows across his face. After a long moment of silence, he turned to the door and spoke in a cold, commanding voice. "Summon the Sixth Minor Horn."