The old wooden door creaked to welcome the group after Irina knocked on it. It was Shaun who opened the door for them, tired face and red eyes. He wasn't crying, but it was obvious that tears had flowed moments before. The pain was written on his broken face and his tense body, but he held his head high and greeted them, trying to remain as impassive and dignified as possible. However, he didn't offer them any smiles as he opened the door for them, he simply invited them to enter the living room.
The house looked like a small apartment with the main room that served as a kitchen and dining room. To their left, two doorless openings led to two small bedrooms with mattresses on the floor. At the far end, next to the modest kitchen, a thick curtain covered another opening that seemed to lead outside. There were no other doors, so Mia assumed the bathroom was outside. All the rooms were relatively cluttered due to a lack of space and storage. It was not luxury, but their home undeniably reflected a warm and lively image, despite the disorder.

"Our deepest condolences, Agatha," Irina exclaimed sadly, addressing Shaun's grandmother.

She was an elderly lady with gray hair and a wrinkled face. Her back was bent as if crushed by the weight of all the misfortunes in the world and her fingers were shaking as they took the bouquet from the human's hands. Shaun had meanwhile sat on the cushions on the floor in the center of the room, his elbows on the small table and his head buried in his hands. It was hard to see him so quiet, even though the blonde barely knew him.

"Thank you for coming to pay your respects," Agatha replied in a slow, broken voice. "It means a lot to us. Georgia and Mark would have been happy for you to worry about us. Please sit down."

The two couples chose their cushion, Mia standing to the right of Shaun who was still paying them no attention. Ethan went with the flow but was obviously uncomfortable stepping into the privacy of an unknown family when he was a stranger. Mia was not necessarily more comfortable, but she quickly forgot her embarrassment when she was confronted with the suffering of the teenager who had completely withdrawn into himself.

"Where's Jodas?" Adam asked, turning his head.

"He ended up falling asleep... The news was extremely hard for him to take, he's still very young," explained the grandmother.

Silence fell in the room as Agatha busied herself with heating a kettle on a hot plate – probably magical – and placing enough cups on the table for all the guests. The atmosphere was heavy, everyone with their heads down except Shaun who still had his face buried in his palms, but made no other movement.

"How are you?" Mia whispered hesitantly, putting a hand on the teen's shoulder.

He did not react at first until his body started shaking and his shoulders jerked. His face was still hidden, but there was no doubt that he was crying. Not knowing what to do to console him, Mia let her hand touch his skin, firming her grip on his shoulder in support. It might not be much, but it was all she could offer him.

"I'm really sorry for what my mother is doing to you," Adam apologized sincerely, his fist clenched.

The sound of steam from the kettle rang out and Agatha grabbed the object to pour the hot water into the cups she had prepared earlier. After returning it to its original position on the plate, the grandmother finally sat down, putting her hands on the table and interlacing her fingers.

"It's not your fault," she finally said, looking at the two Vilas. "Children should not bear the sins of their parents."

Ethan's face was still cast downward, his eyes staring at his hands, but his embarrassment had given way to shame. It couldn't be easy being in the same room with people who had lost loved ones to his own mother. The Vila had a good heart, Mia was convinced that he now felt guilty by witnessing firsthand the consequences of Impervia's actions. It wasn't his fault, but his existence was intrinsically linked to his mother's, and he couldn't erase that fact.

"She'll pay, sooner or later," Shaun promised, looking up, his watery eyes shining with pure hatred. "I'm going to join the Sentinels."

"Shaun," the old lady protested, outraged. "Do you really want Jodas to be on his own? I won't live forever, what will happen to him if you don't come back?"

"They killed our parents! Your daughter, Georgia!" he roared, banging his fist against the table. "I must avenge them!"

"Do you really think they would have wanted you to risk your life to avenge them?" she asked, clutching her hands around her hot cup of tea.

"What do you know about that? They fought all their life, they would have understood why I want to fight too!"

"They fought for your future and your safety, not for you to join them in the grave!"

Mia could almost hear Shaun's jaw creak from the tenseness of it, and his fist was still clenched tight against the table. His eyes burned with a determined gleam and his features reflected all the hatred he bore toward those who had killed his parents.

"Exactly, they're not here anymore," Shaun replied curtly. "If no one is going to fight... if everyone is hiding like wimps, who is going to ensure the future of Jodas and the other kids whose parents will also die in the war? Someone has to–"

"Shaun?" came a small, sleepy voice. "Why are you screaming?"

The teenager turned to his little brother posted at the entrance of the living room who was rubbing his eyes still misty from sleep. His rage immediately disappeared when his gaze focused on the boyish face of the child, replaced by guilt for having disturbed his sleep.

"Nothing, Jodas," he lied, inviting his brother to come and sit on his lap. "Sorry if I woke you up."