Chapter 63: Companionship

Like a wild beast he charged about wildly. The veins on his neck stood out starkly; the muscles beneath his combat uniform had tightened to a terrifying degree.

The last shred of his remaining reason reminded him not to harm Bunny, so he could only suppress the outburst through self-harm.

She watched in terror as Tyr repeatedly smashed his head against the wall.

"Tyr, calm down!"

But the man could no longer hear her words. Like a demonic beast he continued his rampage of destruction.

With the fearlessness of a newborn calf that does not know the tiger, she rushed forward and attempted to restrain him.

His entire body trembled uncontrollably. That tall frame curled inward from the intense pain, like a fish that had left the seawater—struggling in suffocation and futility.

It was a concrete, tangible fear of facing one’s inner demons.

She released every single mental thread she possessed, wrapping them around Tyr in the shape of flower petals.

Page 267 of The Guide Handbook clearly stated that when a sentinel lost emotional control and erupted, dual suppression—both mental and physical—was required.

Using a full bear-hug posture, she locked the man inside her arms and stroked his arched back again and again without the slightest impatience, softly comforting him:

"It’s all right... it’s all right... everything’s fine now..."

Their mental threads clashed and suppressed each other frantically in the air—like a tornado destroying a plot.

Sweat slid down her cheeks. She could feel her mental power being drained and exhausted at an unimaginable speed.

He was like a bottomless abyss, greedily and unrestrainedly drawing out the comfort and tenderness that belonged to her.

In the depths of the swamp lay an even more frenzied craving—a craving for the antidote.

Just as she was about to collapse from exhaustion, her mental threads finally suppressed Tyr’s outburst.

The man’s mental threads slowly retreated back into his consciousness sea. His rapid breathing gradually steadied. The power he had drawn from her now flowed warm and calm inside his body.

Those ghostly whispers, shadows, and screams that had tormented him to the brink of madness for so many years finally quieted for a short while.

Inside his mind there was only the emptiness and pleasure that followed soothing. Their heavy, disordered breaths tangled together in the air.

She still maintained the bear-hug posture, like a mother beast desperately protecting her cub.

She did not notice that the man’s tense muscles were relaxing inch by inch—like a ship that had finally found its lighthouse, riding the wind and waves into the harbor that belonged to her.

Everything grew quiet.

An indescribable atmosphere—ambiguous and dangerous—filled the guidance room.

In the silent flow of time, the only sounds were their intertwined breathing and the rapid, drum-like beating of their hearts.

Just as she was about to release him, Tyr suddenly gripped her sleeve tightly.

The pink-haired man lifted his head from her arms. Lashes still damp with tears trembled lightly. Just like that falcon earlier, he stared at her without moving.

It was a precise form of locking on—as though only she was the anchor point of the entire world.

He curled obediently inside her embrace, carrying an inescapable sense of closeness and dependence.

Although Tyr did not speak, she still understood what he meant.

He still wanted to be held.

Bunny realized that such an intimate posture should not exist between the two of them.

Sentinels actively embracing her and actively asking to be held by her were two completely different concepts.

The former was affection. The latter was dependence.

She was about to say that the guidance session had already ended and push Tyr away when the pink-haired man performed an action she had not expected at all.

He actively buried his face even deeper into the hollow of her neck. Warm breath spilled across the sensitive skin there, like a fragile cub seeking safety and shelter.

His slightly hoarse voice carried a faint note of post-satisfaction enticement:

"Please... just hold me for a little while longer... All right?"

Her arms froze in mid-air. From her angle, she could only see the man’s almost ethereal lashes and the high bridge of his nose.

His features were handsome and refined—clear, cold, and elegant. Yet those noble, cool features were topped with a head of pink hair that created an extreme contrast.

Tyr also never wore ear or lip piercings. Apart from the necklace left by his younger brother around his neck, he wore no decorations at all.

He was actually quite good-looking; he simply never had the heart to dress himself up.

The man’s plea seemed to take effect. The two of them remained quietly embraced like that—neither making any other movements nor speaking any further words.

There was only silent companionship.

She guessed that Tyr’s severe post-traumatic stress disorder was related to his younger brother, but the man’s reaction had been far too intense. For the time being, she did not dare bring up any related topics.

Tch. Why did every single one of these sentinels have issues? She was a guide, not a shrink.

Tyr continued lying quietly in her arms, his lips moving slowly over her neck, as if that skin-to-skin contact was all he needed to quench his thirst for affection.

The tip of his nose was filled with the clear, sweet gardenia scent of her guide pheromones, along with a faint body fragrance unique to her that had been softened by a woman’s body heat.

It smelled wonderful. A wonderful scent he had never encountered before—one that was addictive.

"I’m sorry. I accidentally entered your spiritual landscape by mistake."

Rashly entering a sentinel’s spiritual landscape easily triggered resistance and outbursts. Yet she still did not understand why Tyr’s spirit form had actively led her there.

Even though only the tip of the iceberg of the secrets deep in Tyr’s heart had been revealed, it already left her feeling incomparably stifled and despairing.

She did not know that Tyr had already suffered from severe depression for several years.

What he was still holding on for remained unknown. Perhaps one day he would choose, like those sentinels who had taken their own lives, to end everything with a gun.

People trapped deep in the mire desperately hoped someone would pull them out.

Perhaps he still did not want to die.

His spirit form was still attempting to save itself.

Looking at the obedient man in her arms, she finally could not harden her heart. She gently patted his shoulder:

"If you’re unhappy in the future, you can come find me."

Tyr seemed to react a little. Blinking those amber eyes, he asked seriously:

"If I come find you in the future... will you still touch me?"

Huh?

She met the man’s bright, sparkling eyes. It looked as though if he did not receive her affirmative answer, the light that had just risen in them would immediately dim again.

She nodded then. "All right."

From what she could see so far, Tyr was very well-behaved. Apart from hugs there were no other actions, and she could sense that his embraces were purely a request for a sense of security.

Tyr fell silent again, yet the strong, powerful beating of his heart expressed every emotion he felt.

After leaving the guidance room, Tyr stared blankly for a while at the small rabbit hair tie in his palm—the one Bunny had given him.

He slipped the hair tie into his pocket and did not choose to wear it.

When he turned the corner of the corridor, he was startled by Xander, who suddenly appeared.

Xander stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall edge, as though he had been specifically waiting for him.

"Xander, what are you doing here?"

Xander did not miss the flash of panic that crossed Tyr’s face, even though he quickly recovered his composure.

Tyr had stayed inside Bunny’s guidance room for a full two hours.