The morning light in Silvercity filtered through George's bedroom window, casting a golden hue over the walls. Sitting at his desk, he reread Mariana's last message, eyes lingering on the words: "It may take a little longer. But I will return."
He knew she was far away—travelling the small worlds the system had spoken of—but somehow, their connection remained strong. Through the system's channel, she could still send short messages, fragments of encouragement, guidance, and sometimes, a soft memory of the past.
That day, George sat alone in the Green family garden. His grandparents watched from the kitchen window, pride etched in their eyes. George had grown taller, more composed. The boy who once cried silently at his mother's grave was now a young man driven by her memory.
"She's doing something great," he whispered to himself. "And so will I."
Lucia joined him outside, handing him a cup of tea. "You look more and more like your mother each day," she said, gently brushing his cheek.
"She's still guiding me," he replied with a faint smile.
Meanwhile, on the other side of dimensions, Mariana stood atop a hill in a vibrant small world, the wind catching her long dark hair. The system flickered beside her with a soft glow. Message delivered. Connection stable. She smiled, placing her hand over her heart.
"Just a little longer, George," she murmured. "I'll come back stronger."
Back in Silvercity, George returned to his studies and his foundation work. He launched new initiatives in memory of Mary Green, programs that supported orphans and young talents. He was building an empire—not of wealth, but of purpose.
Even though her presence was distant, Mariana's faith in him remained the fire in his chest.