SHAMAN PROTOCOL
Chapter 73: Farewell

Chapter 73: Farewell

"It’s done... for real, this time."

Mikel didn’t even check Doom’s message when he heard soft chuckles to his side.

"It’s finally done," the old ghost engineer said, walking up beside him with a proud smile. He looked toward the house, nodding with satisfaction swelling in his ghostly chest. "Months of work... and it was all worth it."

Mikel glanced at the engineer, only to notice the rest of the ghosts standing not far away. Just like him, they were staring at the house with awe and pride.

"I helped build that," Bob beamed, having chosen to stay behind. "Haha! I know we built it, but it’s the first time I’ve seen it in the morning!"

Gregory, the Union Representative, adjusted his crooked eyeglasses. "It’s an honor to have built something I never thought I would."

"Big Brother’s home is so pretty!" Arthur’s daughter cheered, running up to Mikel and hugging his leg. Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him, grinning from ear to ear. "Big Brother is happy—so I’m happy too!"

Mikel smiled and reached down to ruffle her hair. When he looked up again, all the ghosts were gazing at him in silence.

"Heh." He let out a breath. "I guess... it’s time to send you all off, huh?"

They only smiled back at him quietly.

His brows lifted slightly as he noticed the edges of their forms begin to fade, dissolving into white mist.

"Hey," he called out, his smile falling into confusion. "I haven’t even helped you cross over yet. Why are you—"

"While working with you, we came to a realization," the ghost engineer said, stepping back to join the group once more. "Our regret wasn’t about some unfinished task. It was about never saying goodbye... never doing what mattered while we were alive."

"We lingered because of those regrets," Gregory continued, still fiddling with his glasses. "But rebuilding this home gave us something we didn’t know we needed."

"Purpose," the auntie ghost chimed in. She smiled fondly. "But don’t get cocky! Just don’t forget who rebuilt your home—pray for us once we reach Paradise!"

"Haha!" Bob crossed his bulky arms, puffing out his ghostly chest. "Mikel, rebuilding your home gave us more than closure. It gave us friendship."

"And finishing it... that became our final goal," another ghost added.

"So even when others moved on, we stayed. We wanted to see it through," someone else said. "And we promised them we will."

"We don’t need a ritual to pass on anymore," the old ghost engineer nodded at Mikel. "Completing your home gave us peace."

His eyes softened as he added, "Your grandmother’s going to be proud."

Mikel stood frozen, his surprise evident. Their words carried no requests this time—only gratitude and contentment.

"You guys..."

The ghosts chuckled, taking in the rare, softened expression on his face.

Mikel didn’t cry—not even a single tear. But the look on his face was enough as the last image they would remember him.

"Thank you, Mikel," they said, from the bottom of their hearts. "Thank you for giving us a chance to live... even after death."

For the chance to make friends they never had. For the courage to be ridiculous. For the meals they shared. For the warmth of family.

For the simple, precious joy of living like children, without worries, pressure, or fear.

They hadn’t just rebuilt a home.

They built memories.

They lived again—and they were grateful for it.

"No..." Mikel whispered, watching as their forms faded completely into white mist.

He smiled faintly, eyes tracing the mist as it carried on in the air.

"Thank you."

His gaze softened, heart teetering between heaviness and lightness. A second later, his brows lifted as he turned to where Arthur and his daughter stood.

Arthur offered him a kind smile. "Thank you, Mikel. I know we made a request, but... it’s also time for us to go."

"Big Brother! Let’s meet again in the next life, okay?" the girl squealed with joy.

Both father and daughter had begun to fade, offering Mikel one last grateful look.

But then—

"Don’t go yet." Mikel stepped forward and grabbed their arms, stopping them from disappearing. "Not yet."

Arthur furrowed his brow while his daughter tilted her head. They stared at Mikel curiously as he sighed.

"I spent days preparing a parting gift," Mikel said. "Everyone else is gone, but... let me fulfill your request at least."

He looked Arthur in the eye.

"I don’t think you should leave without saying goodbye to her."

---

Arthur had long accepted that he would never see his wife and sons again. He asked about the survivors of South Block often from the other ghosts, but the answer was always the same: no one had returned.

But today, the families who had survived the calamity gathered in front of the ruins for a memorial mass.

Thanks to Mikel’s talisman, Arthur could finally pass through the spiritual barrier that had kept him in place.

Near the entrance, photographs of the victims were displayed on a board. Offerings and flowers were laid beneath them. Dressed in black, family members wept quietly as a priest recited prayers.

"Darling..." Arthur whispered, his eyes finding a slender woman crouched down in tears.

She clutched their two sons to her chest, kneeling before the offerings, right where Arthur’s and his daughter’s photos were placed.

"Mama..." the little girl whimpered. "Mama!"

She sprinted toward her mother, sobbing as she hugged her tightly. Arthur didn’t follow immediately—he choked on his breath, frozen in place.

But then, he moved.

"Darling..." he said, dropping to his knees beside his wife and children. Despite being a ghost, he felt the warmth of tears streaking down his cheeks. "I’m sorry I left you."

He wrapped his arms around them from behind, as if he could hold them once more.

"I’m so sorry," he sobbed. "I’m sorry for leaving too soon."

His wife, still crying, felt something cold—and strangely warm—embrace her.

She turned, but no one was there.

Yet... she could feel it, and then a drop of what looked like tears appeared on her shoulder.

Her eyes fell on the photos of Arthur and their daughter.

More tears spilled as her expression crumpled.

"Arthur..." she whispered. "Don’t worry about the boys."

She hiccupped and pulled her sons in close. Her gaze remained on her husband’s photo.

"I’ll take care of them. So... take care of our princess, hmm?"

"Mhm," Arthur choked out. "I will."

"Mama, don’t cry anymore. Big Brothers... don’t cry anymore..." his daughter whispered, trying to soothe them all.

From a distance, Mikel stood in silence, watching. After a moment, he turned and walked away.

[System Notice: Tear detected.]

[Master, sentimentality is inefficient.]

Mikel let out a soft chuckle.

"Nah," he whispered. "But I wonder... was I the one who gave them purpose—or was it them who gave me a reason to move forward?"

Because maybe... sending them off wasn’t just closure for them.

Maybe it was closure for the goodbye he never got to say to his grandmother.

"Let’s go, Doom," he added. "It doesn’t feel right watching this while you’re probably rolling your eyes."

---

Once the families left, Arthur and his daughter went looking for Mikel. They didn’t need to look far—he was seated on a broken post nearby.

"Mikel," Arthur said, holding his daughter to his side gently. "Thank you."

"I’m sorry," Mikel replied. "I only got the talisman recently, so..."

Arthur shook his head with a smile. "No need to apologize. Even if you had it earlier, I don’t think I could’ve done more. If anything, I’d only regret more things."

He looked down at his daughter, who beamed at him before turning back to Mikel.

"We’re honored to have helped rebuild your home," Arthur said sincerely. "Thank you."

"Big Brother, goodbye~!"

As they faded, their eyes remained on Mikel.

"You’re a good kid," Arthur added. "And I’m glad everyone was wrong about you."

Mikel smiled softly as a folded lottery ticket slipped from between his fingers. A gust of wind carried it to Arthur’s feet.

Arthur glanced down, his brow furrowing.

It was a lottery ticket with that familiar combination. The same combination, the same ghost who’d gone missing during the renovation, requested.

As Mikel’s assistant, Arthur had memorized every request—and that one was never fulfilled.

Until now.

Mikel had claimed he didn’t know what happened to that ghost, but this...

"No," Mikel said, his voice low but firm. "Everyone’s right about me, Arthur."

Arthur’s half-faded head lifted. His mouth opened, but no words came. He simply closed it, exhaling a long sigh before offering a faint, unreadable smile.

Was it a look of disappointment? Acceptance? Resignation?

No one knew, and no one would ever know. But maybe that was for the best.

A breeze swept through them, and when it passed, Arthur and his daughter, who waved at him, were gone.

Mikel remained, staring at the place where they once stood.

His eyes gave nothing away.

The silence stretched wide until Doom’s system screen finally reappeared.

[Master, you’ll be late for school. Wake up.]

— END OF Volume I: Act II —