"You can relax. He's surrounded by good friends in his class," I replied in a reassuring tone. It was a lie, of course. Maximus was surrounded by bastards like himself. But Sonya didn't need to know that right now.

Sonya let out a breath, her expression brightening a little. "If that's the case, I can feel a bit more at ease. Thank you."

A comfortable silence fell between us again. The night breeze blew gently. In the midst of that quiet, a question that had been lurking in my mind, triggered by Pablo's story earlier, finally surfaced.

"What do you think," I began slowly, "should a man like Pablo have done? So he wouldn't have ended up like that. Was his revenge... wrong?"

Sonya turned to look at me, her blue eyes serious under the park lights. She was quiet for a moment, thoughtful.

"I... don't know," she finally answered honestly. "I've never been in his position. I haven't felt the torture he endured daily. So I can't just casually say he was wrong."

She looked down at her own hands, folded in her lap. "And... the people he killed were evil, right? They tortured children. Maybe... if I were him, I'd have done the same thing. But..."

She shrugged, "but look at the result. He's still shattered. So, I don't know. Maybe revenge isn't the answer. Or maybe there's no answer that can truly heal a wound that deep."

Her words made me think. But then, for some reason, there was a strange urge to open up a little. Maybe because of the mood, or because of Sonya's sincere expression.

"You know," I said, my voice lower than usual, "I often have nightmares. The same one, over and over. Sometimes different ones, just as bad. And even though now... I have the power to destroy the source of those nightmares, the dreams still come. They still haunt me. It makes me sick of myself. Like... I can't escape, even after getting revenge."

Sonya looked at me with a changed gaze—from a casual conversation partner to something deeper, more attentive. She saw my serious expression and perhaps read something in my eyes.

"So... what do you do?" she asked gently, without judgment.

"I can only keep facing them," I answered.

Sonya smiled, a soft, understanding smile.

"Then don't hate yourself, Adam," she said. "You're doing the right thing. Things like that... they take time. The process is slow. But you're trying to face it. That alone makes you pretty great."

For a moment, my eyes widened and gleamed upon hearing her words. Great? Me? The man who just tortured and destroyed a family, who is planning the ruin of more people? But her tone was sincere. She doesn't know what I've actually done.

Inwardly, I thought, 'If only you knew the way I face those nightmares.'

Yet, strangely, even though I knew the praise was based on ignorance, it still felt... warm. Receiving genuine acknowledgment, even if misplaced, from a woman who is actually the sister of one of my targets of hatred, gave me a strange, small sense of strength. The irony wasn't lost on me.

My thoughts drifted to my revenge plan against Maximus. Initially, the idea of raping Sonya in front of him felt satisfying. But now... it felt boring. Commonplace. And, I had to admit, there was a strange fondness. Destroying a woman who was beautiful, strong, and had a good side like Sonya... felt like ruining a beautiful painting just to hurt the gallery owner. It seemed a bit of a waste.

I should destroy Sonya in a much subtler way, while delivering a hard blow to Maximus.

Sonya, noticing me lost in thought, suddenly moved. She stood up and her warm hand grabbed mine. She pulled me up from the bench.

"Sitting too long, it's cold," she said with a light smile on her lips. "I've rested enough, and my stomach is seriously growling. Come on, let's get dinner. And, as an apology for making you wait so long..."

She winked, "...my treat."

I finally stood up, slightly pulled along by her enthusiastic tug.

"You know," I said, matching her pace, "when I first saw you, I thought you were a shy, closed-off girl."

Sonya looked back at me while still holding my hand, her smile widening.

"Oh, really? So what kind of girl do you think I am now?"

"A girl brave enough... to be with me," I answered.

She laughed lightly, her voice like the tinkling of ice in a glass.

"Me too. When I first saw you fighting that thug, and when you appeared at my window like a perverted ghost, I thought you were a terrifying and very experienced sexual predator. But who would have thought..."

She leaned her face closer, whispering in a teasing tone, "Turns out you're quite awkward and clueless about women and dating."

Inwardly, I thought, 'The part about being an experienced sexual predator is correct.'

But I just shrugged.

"I told you, you're the first."

Sonya nodded, her expression suddenly serious, but her eyes still twinkling.

"Right. In that case, as the first, I feel I have a moral responsibility."

She paused, then flashed a wide, mischievous smile. "So, this kind-hearted big sister is going to teach you a lot of things, Adam. Be prepared."

.

.

.

Just like my two previous dates with her, I let Sonya take the lead, occasionally suggesting places. Because in this realm of normal dating, I was completely blind. I didn't know which restaurants were suitable, which movies were good, or what activities normal couples did.

And strangely, I was enjoying it.

Not in the burning, passionate sense like when I was with Delilah or destroying Alex. This was different. It was like... breathing fresh air after being confined in a stuffy room for so long. There was a simplicity, a peacefulness, and even a refreshing bit of foolishness to it.

As I walked beside her, listening to her chatter about restaurant menus, or watching her eyes light up in front of the cinema screen, I felt something rare: a normal human interaction not based on fear, hatred, or sexual obsession.

And with my powers, the fact that I could have any woman I wanted by force made this experience of gaining Sonya's attention in this way feel... weird.

We went to a small, cozy family restaurant. Sonya's pick.

"This place is good and the portions are huge," she whispered.

She confidently ordered for both of us—steak with mashed potatoes and salad for me, seafood pasta for herself. We ate while chatting lightly about her work, or about the academy.

After dinner, we headed to the movies. Sonya picked the film again. "This is an older movie, but it's really good. You definitely haven't seen it," she said, pulling me into the ticket line.

It was a survival film about a young man stranded in the vast ocean with a wild beast, with just a small lifeboat, facing storms and starvation.

I sat in the dark seat, occasionally stealing glances at Sonya, who watched the film intently. For me, the film was... engaging enough to follow. Not boring.

After the movie, we moved to a quiet bar with dim lighting and soft jazz music. Sonya ordered a fruit cocktail, I ordered whiskey. Sitting across from each other, she then looked at me, her eyes full of questions.

"So, what did you think of the movie earlier?" she asked, taking a sip of her drink.

"I thought it was a pretty good film," I answered, honest but simple.

Sonya narrowed her eyes. "Pretty good? What part was good?"

"The story. Easy to follow. And... not boring," I said, trying to remember what else I could comment on.

Sonya gave a small snort, but her smile remained. "Wow, a very... generic and boring answer, Adam Socheron."

Yeah, I thought. I'm really not a film buff. My capacity to judge films was limited to: whether it kept me awake and entertained. A very basic criterion. But I didn't tell her that. Instead, I turned the question back.

"What about you? Why do you think it's good? You seemed to really like it."

Sonya's expression instantly came alive. Her eyes sparkled like a child asked about their favorite toy.

"Okay, listen up," she said, leaning forward. "First, from the technical side, the cinematography was amazing. How they captured the vastness of the ocean to make it feel both lonely and terrifying, yet also beautiful. The use of the color palette, deep blues, grays, dark greens, the director really succeeded in building an atmosphere of isolation and despair."

I nodded, though I only understood about half of it. But the way she explained it was interesting.

"Then..." Sonya went on at length about the film, discussing the actors' performances, the pacing, and more.

I listened, somewhat captivated. But not by the film analysis—most of which went over my head—but by her passion. By the way she spoke, her shining eyes, and how she connected things I thought were ordinary into something meaningful. I don't get how she got to discussing God and faith from a film about a guy almost eaten by a shark, but... listening to her is interesting.

Meanwhile, far from the warm atmosphere of the bar...

Maximus Treybern stared at his phone anxiously. The clock showed 11:47 PM, and Sonya wasn't home yet. He'd tried calling three times, but no answer. His text messages also went unread.

"What's going on, Sis?" he muttered. The worry of a loving, caring younger brother gnawed at him.

Then, his sharp eyes gleamed. He opened his phone, accessing a specific application not visible on the main screen—a tracking app.

This app was linked to Sonya's phone—without her consent, of course. A few months earlier, when she wasn't paying attention, Maximus had secretly installed the tracking software on his sister's device. He told himself it was for her safety, just in case anything happened.

He had also installed software to read her chats, but it seemed that had been discovered and removed.

He opened the app. A digital map appeared on the screen, and on it, a blinking red dot showed Sonya's location. The dot wasn't moving, located somewhere in the city center. Maximus zoomed in on the map, trying to read the name of the place.

And then he immediately rushed to head there.

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