Unable to contain her grief, Cecilia sobbed harder.

“Waylen, will Rena never awaken again? Maybe you should not have deceived her... Oh, the sorrow she endures."

Juliette wiped away her tears in silence.

Though she and Korbyn were privy to Waylen's wild plan, they dared not cling to hope. After all, the odds stood at a mere five percent.

Now... They couldn't see the Little one either...

Waylen was being so resolute.

Upon hearing the anguished cries of his mother and sister, Waylen clasped Rena's hand, his gaze fixed upon her face as he softly uttered,

“I have no regrets."

Cecilia stood in stunned silence.

For four long days, Rena lay ensconced in a coma.

It was nighttime when she finally woke up.

Waylen lay prostrate on the edge of the bed, his weary face resting against her hand. The visage she had once admired now bore the marks of exhaustion and fatigue.

Rena observed him silently...

In an instant, Waylen roused from his slumber.

He glanced up at her in the subdued glow.

They were a couple, yet their relationship, battered by the trials they had endured, languished in a dire state. When they looked into each other's eyes at the moment, words eluded them.

With Alexis’ absence, a void had formed between them, leaving them with nothing to say.

Rena's eyes fluttered closed, and she whispered, "Please leave."

In a hoarse voice, Waylen tenderly replied, "Are you hungry? Let me fetch you something warm."

He rose to fill a bowl with soup.

Rena turned her head away, her tone icy.

"There's no need."