I went home that night with a weariness that sank deep into my bones. It wasn't physical exhaustion but something existential. Motley's performance had been a huge success, yet the questions it left lingering in my mind felt heavier than all the gold coins in my pocket. I returned to my loft in my simple clothes, too tired to think about anything else. The person who had watched me from that balcony, that entity operating beyond the paths I knew and clearly part of The Consortium, would be a problem for tomorrow.
Click.
I stepped into the quiet loft, took off every piece of Motley's costume, and stored it away in the storage room. Each scrap of patchwork I removed felt like peeling off a small part of myself. After locking all the doors, I walked into my bedroom.
Fwoomp.
I collapsed onto the bed without a care in the world. The darkness swallowed me whole. For the first time in a long while, I fell asleep without a plan, without any calculations. Just sleep.
...…
The next morning, I woke up to the faint sound of laughter and the smell of something baking. I opened my eyes. The morning sunlight streamed through the large window, filling the room with warmth. I felt… different. Lighter.
I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. Ten in the morning. April second.
My birthday. I hadn't even remembered.
"Time to make lunch," I muttered to myself, a strange routine on a day that felt anything but ordinary.
I got out of bed, put on a simple silk robe, and opened my bedroom door.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WELT!"
My usually silent and sterile living room was now packed with dozens of people. Irene, Finnian, Finch, Percy, a few former classmates from the academy, Silas Nolhome who looked healthier, and even some staff from Doyle Acquisition. They were all there, blowing paper horns and throwing confetti.
I froze. Completely froze. My mind, which usually worked at lightning speed, able to process thousands of variables in a split second, was suddenly completely blank.
"Yeah… thank you, everyone…" I said awkwardly, my voice coming out nervous and raw. It was the most genuine reaction I could muster. This was the most unpredictable thing that had ever happened to me in this world.
"Come on, sit down, Welt!" Finnian called out, grabbing my hand with his usual enthusiasm and pulling me to the center of the room. On the coffee table sat a large birthday cake decorated with fresh fruit and tiny lit candles.
I sat down on the sofa, still a bit bewildered. How did they all get in? How had they arranged all this without me noticing?
"Surprise!" Irene said, her smile wide. Her smile today seemed genuine, free of the usual layers of analysis or intellectual challenge. "Did you really think we'd forget your birthday?"
"I… I forgot myself," I admitted.
"Of course you did," Finch, the lawyer, said, raising his glass. "People busy building empires often forget small things like aging. Happy birthday, Mister Rothes."
Percy, my overly cheerful assistant, handed me a big slice of cake. "I picked this cake for you, Mister Rothes! Carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. Based on my analysis of your food preferences over the last three months, this has the highest probability of being your favorite!"
I looked at the cake, then at him. Even in a moment like this, he was still doing statistical analysis. I let out a small laugh. "Thank you, Percy. Your analysis is spot on."
Silas came closer, his movements still a bit slow, but his eyes warm and sincere. "Happy birthday, son," he said softly. "May you always find the right path."
I could only nod, my throat tight.
The party went on.
I wasn't used to this. Not because I was antisocial but because I had never really or even rarely socialized with neighbors. Being the center of attention, receiving genuine well-wishes, felt strange.
I tried to analyze the situation, searching for hidden motives. Was this a Consortium trap? Was this Fravikveidimadr's way of making me drop my guard?
But when I saw Finnian awkwardly trying to ask one of our former classmates to dance, when I saw Finch seriously debating contract law with one of his staff, when I saw Irene laughing freely as Percy told a terrible joke, I found no hidden agenda. I only found people. People who, somehow, had become part of my new world.
A world I didn't fully know, yet I was grateful that I still had "friends". At the very least, it helped me survive on this precarious stack of turtles.
"You look uncomfortable," Irene said, suddenly sitting next to me.
"I'm not used to, well, noise," I replied.
"You'll have to get used to it," she said. "These people care about you, Welt. Each in their own way. Finnian sees you as a hero. Finch respects your intelligence. Percy… well, Percy probably just wants a bonus. But the point is, you're not alone."
"Being alone is more efficient," I said.
"Maybe," she replied. "But it's also so boring."
She looked at me, her green eyes clearer than usual, not as sharp. "I know you have many secrets. I know you play a game we don't understand. But today, can you try not to be a strategist? Can you try to just be a young man on his birthday?"
I looked at her. Then I looked around the room, at the faces of people I had once counted as pieces on my board. Was today the day? The day I got to be just a person? Like the wish I made last night? If so, I was grateful. I was so tired of that damned mask.
"All right," I said. "I'll try."
And I truly did try.
I chatted with Finnian about his plans to expand the logistics division. I listened to Finch complain about loopholes in the royal tax code. I even let Percy explain his theory about the correlation between wheat prices and petty crime rates in the Old District.
Just for now, for this special day, I didn't intend to read anyone. Not even a bit. My job now was to be a good listener to these people, maybe even improve my reputation with my old classmates.
Then Irene had an idea. "Welt, you said you can cook. Why don't you teach us how to make that soup from the southern continent?"
Everyone immediately agreed with excitement.
I hesitated for a moment. Making that soup was my private ritual, my connection to the world I'd lost. Sharing it with others felt like exposing a part of myself.
But then I looked at their hopeful faces. And for the first time, I thought maybe sharing didn't always mean showing weakness.
"All right," I said. "But the kitchen is my domain. You'll all be my assistants."
The atmosphere turned into cheerful chaos. I assigned tasks. Finnian, with his clumsiness, was put in charge of washing vegetables, and somehow managed to spill water everywhere. Irene, with her precision, was given the job of cutting onions perfectly. Finch and Percy argued over the best way to peel potatoes. Silas just sat in the corner as usual, smiling and watching everything.
I showed them how to sauté the mirepoix properly. I explained why it was important to add the meat at just the right temperature. I let them smell spices they had never encountered before.
My kitchen, normally silent and sterile, was now filled with laughter, conversation, and the aroma of home cooking. It felt so alive.
When the soup was finally ready, we all sat together around the big dining table. We ate together, shared stories, and laughed. There was no hidden scheme. I wasn't trying to manipulate anyone. We were simply eating together.
In the middle of it all, I felt something I hadn't felt in so long. The feeling of belonging to something. The feeling of having a family — a strange family I had built for myself from people who were broken and lost, just like me.
After the meal, as the afternoon settled in, it was time for gifts.
"We know you don't like flashy things," Irene said, acting as their spokesperson. "So we all pitched in for one gift."
She placed a simple wooden box on the table in front of me. It wasn't large but felt heavy. There was no ribbon or decoration. It was just a plain wooden box.
I looked at the box, then at the faces around me. Finnian beamed. Finch looked curious. Percy could barely contain his excitement. Silas watched me with the warmth of a father. And Irene looked at me with an expression that mixed hope and challenge.
I reached out, my hand trembling slightly, and rested it on the lid of the box. I didn't open it yet — I just wanted to savor this moment. A moment when I wasn't 'W' the ghost, nor Welt the Archon, nor Cheon Donghwan the terrorist.
A moment when I was just a young man surrounded by people who, for some reason, chose to care for him.
I looked at each of them, one by one. And for the first time since arriving in this world, I smiled. A genuine smile from a place inside me I didn't know still existed.
The game would continue tomorrow. The intrigue, the danger, and my grand plans would still be waiting.
But tonight, I would simply be Welt. And for now, that was more than enough.