The Bloodline System Chapter 1684: Funeral Procession

Standing next to them was Phil, who had grown taller, yet his eyes remained as soft and boyish as ever.

He embraced his parents with care, struggling to keep his composure.

Yet as his gaze fell upon the statue—

upon those horns,

upon the tender smile,

upon the pose that had always brought laughter in his childhood—

his heart shattered.

Memories flooded back of her rousing him for school.

Of her snatching his treats, claiming that "grown girls require energy."

Of her pursuing him through the garden.

Of her firm reprimands when he missed lessons.

He recalled it all.

His breathing grew shaky.

His hands balled into fists.

And without warning...

Tears streamed down his face too.

Yet no bitterness filled him.

No grudge lingered.

For deep within his core, he understood—

his sister would never wish for him to fault Gustav.

She perished for the one she cherished.

She sacrificed herself for a greater cause.

She gave her life so the cosmos might endure.

Phil murmured to himself, "I hope you’re smiling, sis..."

After that, he brushed away his tears and straightened his posture.

The press descended upon them once the ceremony concluded.

"Mr. Vilandrobadia, do you have any comments?"

"Mrs. Vilandrobadia, what was Angy like as a little girl?"

"Phil, how would you describe her?"

"Any message for Gustav?"

"Do you blame him for—?"

Guards swiftly silenced that journalist.

And walking alongside Angy’s kin were Gustav’s companions.

Endric.

E.E.

Aildris.

Elevora.

Falco.

Ria.

Sersi.

Xanatus.

Along with scores of others who had battled by her side or shared moments at their MBO academy.

Clad in dark attire, badges affixed to their chests, their faces etched with sorrow.

The reporters encircled them at once.

"Endric, as Gustav’s sibling, how is he coping?"

Endric’s mouth tightened. He offered no reply.

"Aildris, anything to say to the audience?"

"Elevora, what should everyone remember about Angy?"

"E.E., have you seen Gustav?"

"Will he join the burial—?"

Still, they pressed forward without a word, their feelings too fresh for the spotlight.

E.E.’s eyes burned red.

Sersi appeared as if sobbing had wracked her body.

Falco massaged his temples repeatedly, fighting to remain firm.

Aildris laid blossoms at the foot of Angy’s monument.

Elevora murmured invocations.

Even the resolute Endric discreetly cleared his features when unobserved.

Everyone sensed it.

Everyone grasped it.

She had departed.

And the individual who ought to have been present above all...

Remained missing.

---

Throughout the memorial’s start

To the final wreath being placed

To revealing her sculpture

To the cosmic tributes

To when her emblematic casket descended into the earth—

Gustav failed to show.

No sight of him.

No trace of his presence.

Not even a silhouette.

The cosmos anticipated.

Global authorities awaited.

Her folks lingered in hope...

Her comrades held out...

But Gustav stayed away.

Strangers to him might label it rude.

Those familiar, though...

They comprehended.

The savior of the cosmos

had forfeited his personal world.

How could he face the masses and feign completeness?

---

As the event wrapped up, the Vilandrobadia household issued a summons.

An age-old custom.

A cherished ritual.

A last assembly to commemorate the lost one.

All who held Angy dear were invited to dine with the family.

Thus, they proceeded—

Endric,

E.E.,

Aildris,

Elevora,

Falco,

Ria,

Sersi,

Xanatus, and more—

back to the Vilandrobadia residence.

The home radiated cozy warmth, adorned with snapshots of young and adolescent Angy.

Her bangles dangled from a hook.

Her track competition awards from school filled a shelf.

Her worn practice sneakers sat near the entrance.

The nostalgia stung.

The aroma pierced.

Her preferred foods were made—mild broths, seasoned grains, sweets filled with fruits.

While preparing the meal, her mom stayed mute.

Her dad repeatedly polished his spectacles without need.

Phil poured beverages wordlessly, choking back the lump in his neck.

The atmosphere weighed oppressively.

Falco breathed, "This... doesn’t feel real."

E.E. gazed at his uneaten serving. "She’d be devouring it all now... teasing me for dawdling over my food."

Elevora breathed out. "Cooking would’ve ruined it if she tried."

Endric reclined, pressing his brow. "My older brother used to rib her over that..."

Aildris agreed. "Her spirit was kind. No matter the hardship, she sought out joy."

Sersi stifled a sob. "Particularly with Gustav nearby..."

That mention froze the space.

Angy’s dad halted too.

Phil gulped deeply.

He uttered, scarcely heard:

"Anyone aware of his whereabouts?"

The quiet lingered until E.E. parted his lips.

Then shut them again, voiceless.

Endric sighed at last and spoke gently:

"No.

We have no idea where my brother went.

He disappeared right after the revival."

Aildris continued, "...He requires space. More than we do."

Angy’s mother hid her visage once more, quivering.

Her father gritted his teeth.

"I... I pray that wherever he hides... he realizes we harbor no fault toward him."

Phil bobbed his head fiercely, tears resurfacing. "Angy would never desire that."

E.E. murmured, "He understands... he simply can’t confront us yet."

Falco added softly, "Would you fault him?"

None responded.

The eating went on, yet it lacked lively talk or mirth.

It served as a tribute feast.

A shared repast among the survivors.

A hushed vow that Angy’s memory would endure.

... ... (( Two Years Later ))

A serene avenue on Earth glowed under the warm golden hues of the waning sun. Many folks stayed inside, viewing tributes after the rites or recounting tales of the heroine revered across the stars. This marked the anniversary of her passing, two years since the cosmos’ salvation.

A handful of youngsters frolicked outdoors, booting a worn football, pursuing one another, giggling with the pure delight kids alone could summon post the terrors endured by all.

The sphere halted as a figure entered the roadway.

He glided like a hushed murmur, his demeanor falsely serene. A lengthy crimson coat draped him, its edge swaying lightly per stride. Beneath lay a dark shirt, several fasteners loose as if he’d not cared to adjust them.