Chapter 37: BACK TO BASE
A door creaked open, and a slim, fit woman strode in, her long chestnut hair fluttering behind her like a playful flag in the morning breeze.
"Dax, honey! Are you still sleeping?" she hollered, her voice joining the obnoxious alarm that was still yowling somewhere under a pillow. She marched into the room, one brow already twitching with motherly impatience.
Then she froze.
Her gaze landed exactly where it shouldn’t have, and she gasped.
"Dax! Get your wet-dream ass outta bed... you’re late for school!" she barked, her voice cutting through the room like a thunderclap. "God," she added under her breath, "what an erection.
At those words, Dax, who had been yawning drowsily, shot upright like a guilty rocket. He blinked rapidly, glanced down, and almost fainted. His junior had rebelliously pitched a tent under the bedsheet, pointing toward the ceiling like a flagpole declaring independence.
"Holy hell," he muttered, scrambling to fix the situation. He slammed it down and pinned it between his thighs in panic, his face burning with embarrassment. Well, thanks to the nightmare.
He looked up, only to find the woman right beside him, having casually turned off the alarm.
"Mom?" he croaked, disbelief washing over his face.
"What?" she replied flatly. "You think I haven’t seen your penis before?"
"Come on, Mom! You should’ve knocked!" Dax snapped, snatching the blanket over himself.
His eyes darted around the room, was this another nightmare? Another illusion of the Harness? He was in his room. His actual room. But how? He should still be in the Parallax Realm, or the Beyonders’ tower, anywhere but here.
"Stop messing around, Daxon, and go get ready for school," his mother ordered, her tone sharp enough to slice through his confusion.
"School?" he echoed, brows furrowed, his voice thick with disbelief.
"You heard me!" she called back, already scurrying down the hall. "And make sure you’re not late on your first day!... of resumption!" Her voice echoed like a fading commandment.
Dax blinked. "School? But... it’s still summer," he muttered.
He rubbed his head, trying to remember what had happened, if maybe he’d been sleepwalking through the entire summer break. He looked around, hoping for a clue, but his jaw dropped.
His room, his notoriously disastrous battlefield, was spotless.
Not just tidy. *Immaculate.*
The bed was neatly spread, his wardrobe doors shut tight, his desk arranged with monk-like precision.
Even the laundry basket, usually a mountain of regret, was empty. Only a lone pillow lay on the floor, the same one he had hurled earlier at the alarm in sleepy protest.
"What in the..." he murmured, scanning the place like a detective at a crime scene.
His gaze wandered to the window. Last time he had peered through it, he’d caught Darren, his sister’s boyfriend, climbing out of Mary’s room like a sneaky spider.
But the last time he’d actually been home, it hadn’t even been real. It had been a mirage, a test crafted by the Nexer to determine which Triarch facet of the Trinity he belonged to.
"No," he whispered. "This can’t be the Harness. It’s too real."
He thought of his mother again. He’d seen her. He’d heard her. And unlike the illusions before, she didn’t dissolve into mist or glitch like a fading dream. Besides, Malfoy wasn’t around this time, and Malfoy never lived in his neighborhood anyway.
He walked over and cracked open the window.
A cool, early-autumn breeze brushed his face, gentle yet crisp, like summer finally sighing its last breath before handing the world to fall. It carried the scent of dew-washed grass and freshly trimmed hedges, that peculiar mix of nostalgia and new beginnings that always seemed to linger when school resumed after summer break.
Outside, the neighborhood was alive in the most ordinary, peaceful way. A woman jogged by with earphones tucked in, humming to her own rhythm, her ponytail swaying. Across the street, a man in his yard trimmed the hedge, pausing occasionally to wave at a neighbor walking his dog.
A kid biked past, backpack bouncing like a drumbeat of excitement, while an elderly couple stood by their porch, sipping coffee and gossiping like clockwork.
Everything was serene. Normal. Too normal.
And then his eyes caught Darren, already dressed for school, backpack slung over his shoulder, he was locking his car door.
"Shit!" Dax barked, springing into action.
He darted out of the room, bolting down the stairs like a hurricane in sneakers. When he reached the sitting room, his eyes swept across the place, it was perfectly fine. Not a scratch, not a splinter, nothing like the last time it had been ripped apart by a beast.
"Well," he muttered, smirking, "looks like the devil keeps his promises after all."
"What did you say?"
Dax jumped. He turned to see his sister, Lucy, standing by the kitchen doorway. Her dark brown eyes gleamed with playful suspicion. That voice, sweet but sharp enough to stab a thought. He turned.
And damn, she had glowed up. Her long black hair shimmered like silk in the sunlight. Her eyes were warm brown, but carried the same commanding sparkle as always. She wore fitted black trousers that hugged her hips with sinful precision, paired with a red top knotted at the hem. Her curves did the rest of the work.
"Hey, Lucy," Dax said casually. "You look good."
"Uh-uh," she grinned, flicking her hair. "Say it right, baby brother. I look beautiful."She gestured dramatically, flipping her hair as if to prove a point.
Her tone dripped with mock pride, her hand gesturing dramatically as she spoke. "And I heard you say something..."
Dax raised a brow, trying to act clueless, though he vaguely remembered muttering something about trusting the devil.
"Say what?" he asked innocently.
"Oh, don’t play dumb," Lucy replied, poking his chest with her finger. "You said you trust the devil, baby brother."
Dax winced at the nickname. Baby brother. The title burned. He tried to deny it, but for some reason, the words got stuck in his throat, his mind froze. He tried again, to deny it, to shake his head and say no, but his lips refused to form the lie. His throat locked as if some unseen force sealed his words.
Lucy’s expression shifted from amused to puzzled. "You’re weird," she said finally, shaking her head.
"Yeah, well, I’m going to get ready for school," Dax mumbled, fleeing toward the bathroom.
Inside, he stared at himself in the mirror, sighing.
"What the hell is wrong with me?"
As he stood under the shower, his thoughts spiraled more. No. Seriously?... What’s wrong with me? he wondered. The water cascaded over him, cold and cleansing, like it was washing away the residue of two worlds colliding.
Minutes later, he stepped out, toweling his hair.
He dressed up, fast, unlike Lucy, who took forever.
He pulled on a black-and-red jacket layered over a fitted vest, paired with dark jeans and sneakers that gave him that effortless, rebel-hot look. His dark hair, messy yet styled by nature, framed his face with careless perfection. A silver chain hung at his neck, glinting just enough to make him look dangerously attractive.
"Damn, I look good," he muttered to himself. "I’d ask me out."
He descended the stairs and moved into the dining room, where breakfast awaited, a table set neatly with scrambled eggs, toast, and a jug of orange juice.
"Hurry up, kids! It’s almost time!" his mom called from the kitchen.
"Hell yeah, it is," Dax whispered under his breath, plopping down into a chair, still trying to process everything and secretly hoping that his powers and everything he’d been through, weren’t just a dream. ’If this is real, great. If not... I hope I wake up before I start liking it.’
He reached for a slice of toast when...
"HAS ANYONE SEEN MY NECKLACE?"
Lucy’s voice thundered through the house, rattling the walls and possibly half the neighborhood.
"Oh, for Lucifer’s sake..." Dax just smirked, shoving a bite of toast into his mouth. "Here we go again."
Lucy stormed down the stairs like a hurricane in heels. "MOM!"
"Yes, honey?"
"Has anyone seen my necklace?"
"No, sweetheart. Ask your brother!"
Dax froze mid-bite. "Oh, great." He murmured, his smirk widening. He could almost feel her glare from across the house.
She stormed into the dinning. "Dax!"
He barely looked up. "What?"
"Have you seen my necklace?" she demanded.
"Should I?" Dax replied coolly, his tone calm but laced with mischief. As smooth as honey and twice as irritating.
"I’m being serious! That necklace is special!"
"Well," Dax said, finally meeting her glare, "you should’ve known that before your careless ass misplaced it."
Lucy’s eyes widened as she groaned, her anger sizzling like a pan of hot oil.
"Urghhh! I can’t stand you!" she cried, throwing up her hands and storming off.
"Oh, I’ll survive," Dax called after her with a devilish grin. "Just don’t lose your bra next time."
"Fuck you!" she screamed back from the stairs.
Dax only chuckled, finishing his toast. Moments later, Lucy returned to the dining room, visibly calmer. She sat opposite him, cutting into her eggs.
"Found it yet?" Dax teased, a wicked grin tugging at his lips.
"No," she muttered, not meeting his eyes. "Not like you care."
Dax shrugged. "Hey, I care. Deeply. Especially when your whining’s louder than the alarm."
Before she could reply...
Pooooooooo!
The blare of a car horn tore through the house.
"Fuck," Lucy muttered. "Darren’s here!" She dropped her cutlery, straightening her top and smoothing her hair before going for the door.
"Lucy, your boyfriend’s here!" their mom yelled from the kitchen.
"I know, Mom!" she hollered back.
Dax perked up. "Hey, sis... I’m riding with you guys!"
Lucy’s expression twisted. Every muscle in her face screamed ’hell no,’ but her lips... perhaps out of pity or exhaustion said, "Fine."
She stepped outside to meet Darren, who sat in a shiny red convertible Mazda MX-5, the kind of car that screamed, "student with rich parents and bad decisions."
Darren sat behind the wheel, one hand draped over the door, the other spinning his keys.
"Babe," Lucy greeted, smiling sweetly as she stepped out.
"Hey," Darren replied, his grin polite but strained.
"You mind if my brother rides with us?" she asked.
Darren’s smile flickered. After Dax had blackmailed him once and stolen his favorite suit, the guy had every reason to despise him, but he played nice for Lucy’s sake.
"Sure," he said, jaw tight.
Upstairs, Dax grinned as he zipped up his backpack. He’d overheard the conversation perfectly. "That’s my ticket," he murmured with smug satisfaction.
But as he turned to leave, his gaze landed on something, something he hadn’t noticed until now.
Hanging by his closet door was the suit.
Darren’s suit.
His jaw dropped. The luxurious black material shimmered faintly in the morning light, perfectly ironed and untouched. Its silk collar and sleek design practically screamed expensive.
"What the fuck..." he whispered.