Golden Melody (Editing)

Another future

Chapter 105 - The Gravekeepers

Zatariel took her hand. His grip was gentle, grounding-but beneath the warmth, Miexha felt a hesitation.

Like he was guiding her somewhere sacred.

They stood before a narrow wooden door, plain and crooked on its hinges. It looked more like a broom closet than a threshold to anything important.

She gave him a confused glance.
"This is the main door?"

Zatariel gave a faint smile.
"Don't judge a door by its size."

He opened it.

Sunlight spilled in-soft, golden. Not artificial. Not filtered by glass. Real.

Outside wasn't a city. Not ruins. Not even the cold, futuristic world she was bracing for.

It was a forest.

Lush grass swayed under a lazy breeze. Wildflowers bloomed freely in pinks, blues, and whites, lining a foot-worn path. Birds chirped in distant harmony. The wind smelled like pine and old rain.

She blinked.
"...Do we live in the countryside now?"

Zatariel gave a long, dramatic sigh.
"Yeah. After those alien bastards left Earth, I thought, 'Why not become a farmer?'"

Miexha snorted but didn't press. His hand held hers tighter.

They walked.

No hovercars. No palace guards. Just them.

The path curved, opened into a clearing-a wide field bathed in warm light.

Her heart dropped.

She knew this place.

It was just like the dream-the one with the bunnies. But there were no rabbits now. No bloodied white fur.

Only graves.

Dozens of them. Simple, quiet markers, swallowed by tall grass and time.

Zatariel didn't speak as she stepped forward.

A glint caught her eye.

A rusted necklace-delicate, silver, with a blue crystal. Her breath hitched.

She stepped closer.
Jayson Dom.

Miexha's knees buckled. Her chest twisted, sharp and suffocating.

"Jayson..."

Memories surged-his teenage voice scolding her for reading R18+ novels. The way he lectured her about gratitude-kisses. His clingy sweetness in his 30s. That stupid, gentle smile. How he always kissed her forehead. The time they bathed together and he-

She blinked, horrified.

No. Stop thinking about his abs.
Stop thinking about the thing where babies come from.
This is a grave. Not a thirst trap!

Zatariel cleared his throat, shooting her a dramatic side-eye.
"...You good?"

"I'm mourning," she snapped, wiping her face.

"Uh-huh. With a blush and a hormonal flashback."

She threw a leaf at him.

Beside Jayson's grave was another.

Asha Dom.

Her smile wavered, lips trembling.
"She was the one who kept me sane," she whispered. "She told me I'd be famous someday... even offered to be my manager..."

Zatariel knelt, brushing the engraved name.
"She made it to the top. Became President. But only lasted a year. After she signed the shelter rights to the government... she was gone. Assassinated."