Inside Oliver's bedroom, Oliver, lying on his warm bed, faces everyone, including Victoria, Elizabeth, their husbands, Josephine, Gregory, and the lord of the mansion, Frederick. Amidst the silence, a creaking noise interrupts, and everyone's ears perk up. Clad in solemn dresses, Victoria and Elizabeth turn to face the doorway, and a sense of longing washes over them as they spot their brothers, Jean, Bertie, and George, entering.

With his brothers, Jean entered the bedroom, his eyes locked on his sisters. "Victoria... Elizabeth..." he whispered.

"Jean," Victoria murmured, her face etched with worry.

     As dark as the starless space, Victoria's hair cascades into curls while the rest is pulled into a low bun. Her skin glistens under the setting sun streaming through the windows, burning like the snow on a mountain's peak. Her eyes, magnetic and alluring, sparkle upon seeing her brothers, reminiscent of rusting iron.

     Burning like the embers of a bonfire, Elizabeth's hair gleams, styled into a sleek bun. Her skin shines, rivalling the hue of a glass of milk. Like her sister, her eyes possess the deep colour of bronze, gleaming like crystals.

     Meanwhile, the lord of the mansion, also the adoptive father of the Remaining Podeshire, Frederick, possesses a silken crown of pearl on his head, his hair thinning. Akin to a massive field of mature grains under the smouldering sunlight, Frederick's skin gleams and emits a faint glow. His deep brown eyes glimmer with memories from the past, and wrinkles crawl across his skin. Clad in a white shirt under a navy waistcoat, Frederick's back sinks into a chair as he holds onto a black wooden cane.

     Jean's gaze drifts towards Oliver lying on the bed, and a profound sense of genuine sorrow floods over his being. Swiftly, he hastens to Oliver's side and stands beside his shoulder. Kneeling on one knee, Jean grasps Oliver's hand and presses his forehead against his skin. As Jean pulls back, Bertie and George step forward and do the same.

"Dad..." Jean whispered. "How're you feeling? Please... please tell me you'll be alright..."

A small, weak smile crept on Oliver's lips. "My dear one, don't let yourself succumb to fear. As you all are here now, I feel slightly stronger. Because of you, my dear family, I can hold on a little longer..." he mumbled, his voice raspy and faint. "But... I'm afraid to say the end is near for me..."

     Sniffling, Jean's brows furrow with worry for his adoptive father, Oliver. Jean cannot bear the painful thought of losing him, causing tears to glisten in his eyes. His heart flutters, ravaged by a searing wildfire as it tries to jump out of his chest in a desperate escape.

     Jean's mind wanders to the moment he is adopted. Despite being wholesome, the memory briefly gives him a chilling sensation. The thought crystallizes like an iceberg, cold and poignant as he knows the present has his father troubled by pain. Jean's jaw and lips quiver with emotions as he battles his apprehension, his eyes heavy with tears.

     Like a flash of light, cherished recollections from the past appear before Jean's eyes. He can remember the memorable times he gradually grew into the strong person he is now, raised with incomparable affection, showered with love, and nurtured by Oliver as if he were moulded from his seed. His love for his adoptive father surpasses the height of the heavens, and he refuses to see him suffering. Jean's heart feels like breaking apart from seeing Oliver fragile on his bed, like a broken porcelain cup.

Slowly succumbing to fear, Jean's knees trembled and buckled, and he wrapped his arms around Oliver on the bed, embracing him tightly. "Dad..." he cried quietly. "I've had a lot of visions about you already, and you will reach the next century. I assure you... the end is still far away," Jean whispered, his voice choked with sorrow. "Don't think it's time. Don't," he asserted. "All you need to do is endure the pain... b-but... we still need to find a way to cure you from your illness... otherwise, my vision will change, which I fear, Dad..."

     Oliver's heart aches with emotions, and his skin feels like paper. Choosing not to speak and keeping the tranquillity in the room, Oliver maintains silence, his breath turning slower and unsteady. Slowly, tears shine in Oliver's golden eyes, and his jaw twitches uncontrollably. Blowing a deep sigh through his mouth, Oliver closes his eyes and hugs Jean tightly, returning the embrace.