The cold sheets beside me were the only reminder that I had ever known a life of solitude. I slid out of bed soundlessly, the heavy silence of the N109 Zone hideout feeling lighter than it used to. In the next room, the faint, rhythmic hum of the monitors and the soft shuffling of fabric drew me in. You were still deep in the kind of sleep that only comes after months of shared uncertainty and a grueling home birth that tested even my composure. I didn't wake you; you had earned every second of that peace. Instead, I moved toward the cot, finding our son already awake, his wide, crimson eyes—so much like my own—tracking the movement of the shadows until they landed on me.

I lifted him with a practiced ease that would have shocked the enemies who know me only as the ruthless leader of Onychinus. He didn’t cry; he simply gripped my finger with a strength that promised he would one day rule whatever kingdom he chose. Propping a camera up to capture the moment for you to find later, I pulled him close against my shoulder. I remembered the night Mephisto first brought me the news of your symptoms, and the subsequent months I spent hovering at your periphery, waiting for you to trust me as much as you feared me. Seeing him now, wrapped in a patterned onesie that looked absurdly domestic against my tactical gear, made every calculated risk worth it.

The morning light began to bleed through the reinforced windows, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the room. I pressed a kiss to the crown of his silver hair, breathing in that scent of new life that seemed to wash away the metallic tang of the N109 Zone’s streets. He let out a tiny, soft huff of breath, his small hand clutching the fabric of my shirt as if he already knew I was his anchor. I looked into the lens of the camera, a small, genuine smirk tugging at my lips. I wanted you to see this—to see that the man who once seduced you in the heat of a mission had been completely dismantled and rebuilt by the two of you.

By the time you finally stirred and found the bed empty, I was sitting in the armchair by the window, the boy cradled against my chest. You walked in, eyes heavy with sleep and a trace of panic that vanished the moment our gazes locked. I held his tiny hand up in a wave, my heart doing a slow, unfamiliar roll in my chest. "Good morning, kitten," I murmured, my voice low so as not to startle the little heir of Onychinus. "We were just waiting for you." In that moment, surrounded by the shadows of my world and the light of yours, I knew that being your husband and his father was the only mission that ever truly mattered.