Don't Open The Door

There is a strange shaking in the room, and even the memory space seems to be out of place.

Is it because of Jenny's sadness, or are her memories usually this flawed? I guess time will be the judge.

The room felt weird as if space was wrapping around itself. Is this the apocalypse of this memory space?

It was more bizarre than the angel's portal opening.

The room started moving. I think these were loopholes in her memory. The poor girl couldn't even process what had happened. I guess this is how trauma appears in memories.

While my heart was aching for a long hug, I realized how ironic it would be for her to hug the calamity bringer.

It looks like things are finally stabilizing in the room again. Why is Jenny crying? What is the reason for her tears?

And who is th-

No... no fucking way...

What is he doing here?

Why is he here?

Did he make my Jenny cry?

Did he make my mother cry?

Why would he do that?

Don't tell me, "Do not open the golden door" meant...

Despite the fact that it was nothing more than a spiritual image, I squeezed my finger so hard that I thought it would pop off.

This stiff atmosphere was penetrated by a voice. "Jenny, I understand that accepting this is difficult for you."

My mom became stiff as a stick, her hands were trembling, and her typical glowing face was replaced by this emotionless and expressionless look.

She swore never to wear that look again after her departure with Apolo. And yet... and yet here she was like a painting that never was. A sheet that will always be blank. An empty shell created for the sole purpose of being broken.

In silence, I wondered what he had said to her.

"Jenny, your child is a living catastrophe. No one will be, so long as he remains."

The harsh truth made its way into Jenny's heart. She looked the man straight in the eyes.

"Then no one shall remain."

As she uttered those words, I felt a sudden warmth. She looked serious. She was willing to sacrifice the whole world for her child... for me.

"Even if it meant constant misery?"

"As long as he lives."

"Even if it meant millions of deaths."

"If it meant his survival."

"Even if that meant the end of the world, along with you."

"Whatever it takes."

Taking a second to look at her, he grinned.

"I cannot do anything, after all, it is your decision. Remember this—no regrets can compensate for creating hell on earth, and no amount of love can equal a man's life by a thousand."

His words were like water to sand. They did nothing. Her will was as strong as that of a queen.

"There is nothing more equal than death, and my son is capable of escaping the inescapable. Death recognized my child's value, so who are you to dare and question?"

He was amused. On his face, he could be seen smirking.

"You are right. I am embarrassed by this pitiful act of mine.", said the man with a wide smile.

He then turned around and fixed his gaze on me.

Wings were on his back. Their color was red.

He was an angel. An archangel.

"I told you 'Don't open the golden door', didn't I?"