The Operator Between Worlds [ONGOING]

Chapter 56: A Quiet Life, Gently Stirred

The scent of warm tea and garden blossoms drifted lazily through the corridor as Mason wiped a thin sheen of sweat from his brow. His shirt clung slightly from the early morning workout, but the quietude of the Emerald Palace made it feel like the world had finally slowed down. For once, there was no gunfire, no battle cries.

The quiet hush of dawn clung to the halls of the Emerald Palace, broken only by the distant cries of gulls echoing beyond the seaside cliffs. Mason, freshly returned from his morning run, wiped the sweat from his brow as he stepped inside their private wing. The moment he opened the door to the nursery suite, the scent of warmth and milk filled the air.

Inside, bathed in the gentle morning light, sat Masami—glowing with maternal grace—cradling their newborn daughters against her chest. One suckled quietly, dark tufts of jet black hair barely brushing Masami's arm. The other hesitated, her tiny hands curled against Masami's chest, her silver-platinum fuzz catching the light like starlight.

Masami looked up with a drowsy smile, her ears twitching softly. "Welcome back," she whispered, her voice as warm as the sunlit room.

She sat gracefully in a lounge chair near the open windows, bathed in the soft gold light of morning. Her silver hair fell loosely down her back, slightly tangled from the early hour. A soft robe hung over her shoulders, barely concealing the sight of both Luna and Lena nestled against her chest, their tiny mouths latched as they suckled contentedly.

Three attendants stood nearby, respectfully averting their eyes but ready with clean cloths, spare linens, and support if needed. Yet it was clear Masami barely needed them.

She cradled the twins with such natural ease it almost startled Mason. The sight of her—the legendary fox beastkin who had once made demons tremble—now cooing softly to her daughters, was enough to make his breath catch in his throat.

"Morning," he said, voice low and careful not to disturb the moment.

Masami's ears perked first, then her eyes met his. "I see that you've been busy," she said softly, her voice like silk in the still room.

"Not really. Compared to what we did over a month ago, this is nothing." He crossed the room slowly, taking in the scene like it was sacred. "You look... radiant," he added, kneeling beside her chair.

Her smile was tired but real. "I'm a mess."

"You're perfect," he murmured.

Just as he reached to brush a stray lock of hair from her cheek, Lena squirmed slightly, unlatching with an annoyed squeak before turning her crimson eyes up at Mason. There was something startlingly calm and curious in her gaze—as if she saw more than any infant should.

"Lena again?" Masami chuckled gently. "She's so picky sometimes. Barely drink unless it's the perfect temperature. I might need the bottle again."

Mason stood and moved to the nearby table, where a bottle warmed in a rune-lit cradle. It was your standard modern baby feeding bottle, which was an item this world never had to begin with. He handed it over, and Masami offered it to the tiny girl, who took it without complaint, her small hands wrapping firmly around the bottle's base.

"Smart little thing," Mason muttered. "Too smart."

Masami tilted her head slightly. "You've noticed it too?"

"Of course. Very subtle though. Only when you pointed it out did I start thinking about it."

He gave a quiet nod but said nothing more, deciding not to chase the thought. Not yet. Instead, he let the warmth of the scene settle in his chest. And with that quiet contentment, his mind drifted back—to the night it all began.