The Extra is a Genius!? Chapter 623: Home

Two weeks elapsed since the clash in Thorne Territory.

The world hadn't truly mended during that span, yet it started drawing breath anew. The academy along with other key establishments halted operations temporarily, allowing folks time to mend from the ordeal. Throughout Vaelterra, proclamations rang out from Alveron, Balthor, and those influential voices potent enough to soothe a rattled realm. The assaults that marred the lands were proclaimed the deed of a massive rogue syndicate, now utterly wiped out.

For the first time in ages, tranquility returned.

And within one serene chamber, Noel slumbered through the entirety.

His eyes fluttered open gradually at last. Not the abrupt jolt of a warrior snapping alert to peril, but the ponderous resurgence of one whose frame had seized the repose it demanded and wouldn't let go until satisfied. The overhead ceiling rang familiar. The atmosphere felt pure. The bedding cradling him proved plush, cozy, worlds away from gore-drenched earth.

His frame ached with soreness. Weighted down as well. Each sinew bore the muted throb of extreme exertion. Yet he remained intact. No longer shattered.

Next, he sensed the presence nestled nearby.

Noir lay tucked against him upon the mattress, dozing in her compact wolf shape, ebony pelt undulating gently per breath. She'd snuggled so tight it was clear she meant to erase any gap between them. Even in slumber, proximity defined her.

Noel regarded her briefly, a tenderness blooming in his core. He lifted a hand deliberately slow and placed it atop her crown, digits threading softly through her coat. Noir roused nearly instantly. Half-dreaming still, she pressed nearer to his palm's heat before violet orbs snapped wide to lock with his.

One instant passed in silent gaze.

Then her shape shifted. Silky hide and raven locks supplanted dark fleece in a swift haze, and suddenly Noel endured Noir's fierce embrace, jarring his tender form. "Thank goodness..." Her tone quivered even as she fought to steady it. "I’m glad you’re okay."

Noel exhaled softly and encircled her with an arm, palm settling on her spine. "It’s okay," he whispered. "Everything is okay now, Noir. It’s finally over."

She lingered thus awhile, and he permitted it.

Upon parting at length, Noel probed his physique and rose cautiously. The tenderness persisted, yet mending outpaced all expectation. That much registered vividly. A Manacode frame restored uniquely.

And he stood as the sole survivor worldwide.

Noel pivoted his legs off the bed's edge and gained his feet steadily. The flooring chilled his soles, bodily throbs lingered yet proved bearable. Post his ordeals, ruin should've claimed him worse. Contrariwise, renewal accelerated beyond reason. Such defined Manacode essence presently—his form reconstructed with eerie efficiency.

Noir observed intently, as though fearing he'd dissolve should she avert her sight.

Noel eyed her. "Do you know where your younger siblings are?"

A beat, Noir merely stared. The query startled her unduly. Younger siblings. The phrase sank in gently, warming her features. Noel voiced it sans qualm or jest. Straightforward. Instinctual. Noir had claimed first-daughter status eons prior to the rest.

"In their room," she replied after pause. "The girls went out earlier. They should return later."

Noel inclined his head and strode from the chamber. Noir trailed immediately.

The estate lay hushed. Eerily so versus battlefield echoes haunting his thoughts. Staff and handmaids encountering him halted momentarily prior to swift obeisance or yielding passage mutely. Astonishment gleamed in their stares. All within knew his feats. They grasped he'd clawed back from oblivion then slumbered two full weeks unbroken.

None impeded him. None risked intrusion.

Arriving at the nursery, Noel swung the portal wide and entered.

The scene halted him briefly. Gentle glow. Pristine linens. Plush coverlets. Faint coos exclusive to infants. No frenzy. No ruin. No inferno. Nicolas gurgled alert, gnawing a plaything with infant solemnity. Elyria reclined adjacent, serene and drowsy-ish, as Cloe fidgeted beneath her quilt in minuscule fidgets more endearing than irksome.

Utterly mundane. Serene. Heart-wrenchingly routine after chaos.

Noel advanced deliberately and settled among them. His eyes dwelt long upon the trio.

Then Roberto's parting echoed. Live a good life.

Noel dropped his gaze momentarily and sighed faintly. "I will," he breathed.

He scooped one tenderly, soon another, lingering sans haste, merely present. Observing Nicolas chomp his trinket. Straightening Elyria's cover. Permitting Cloe to clasp his digit with her minuscule grip. Hours drifted thus, tender and trivial in finest fashion.

When the entrance creaked open that eve, twilight bathed the home.

The girls filed in sequentially, bearing subdued weariness from unwelcome yet embraced obligations. War ended, yet casualties demanded tending, souls reassurance, queries response, and the ponderous labor of affirming survival to a reeling world. Their footfalls hushed upon entry.

Elena first peeked toward Noel's quarters, brow furrowing at the vacant pallet. "Where is he?"

Selene tensed sharply, yet ere suspicion sharpened, Noir materialized corridor's end, nodding toward the nursery.

Sufficient cue.

They clustered at threshold, rooted. Noel perched cribside in plain garb, one cuff dangling from incomplete mend, cradling Cloe gently while Nicolas perched close, toy clenched fiercely as life's pinnacle. Elyria nestled in his lap under arm's shelter, semi-alert and blissful, wee palm against his cloth. Noir sat floorward beside, human guise, reclining bedframe with eased visage of reclaimed breath.

Momentarily speechless, the vision transfixed them.

Post carnage, haze, cycle's close, Noel simply occupied the nursery, weary, wounded, vital, clasping their young as destiny's harbor.

Charlotte grinned foremost, gaze sparkling swift. "So this is where you disappeared to."

Elena huffed a sound blending chuckle and ease. "You woke up and came straight here?"

"He did," Selene affirmed, facial thaw undermining critique.

Elyra entered final, lagging. Noel's upward glance deepened the chamber's thaw. "You’re back."

Elena sidled near. Charlotte bent to admire Cloe. Selene loomed touch-close to shoulder. Elyra neared, fingers grazing his locks lightly. Noir held position, sated all beheld her prior vision.

Beneath that roof, young ones amid them, protracted strife past, the abode rang whole at last.