Tora paced nervously in front of the operating room. The red light above the door remained on. Every time he heard the sound of nurses' footsteps in the corridor, his heart jumped. His hope was pinned on that door—on the doctors behind it who were fighting to save his father's life.
His mind drifted back to his childhood. He remembered how his father taught him to fight, to wield a sword, and also how he looked at his mother with such love. All of it now felt like fragile memories that could vanish at any moment.
"Marco is strong... He'll make it," Tora whispered to himself, as if trying to reassure himself.
Not long after, the operating room door opened. A doctor came out, his face serious. "We've stabilized the patient. But his condition is still critical. He lost a lot of blood, and one of the wounds near the heart was nearly fatal. Now, we need time for his body to respond."
Tora nodded slowly, but he felt far from calm inside.
"Can I see him, even just for a moment?" Tora asked softly.
The doctor hesitated but eventually nodded. "Only for a few minutes. Don't let him talk too much."
Inside the ICU room, Marco looked pale. They inserted an IV needle into his arm and covered his nose and mouth with a breathing apparatus. The heart monitor beeped slowly, each 'beep' like a ticking clock counting his remaining time.
Tora sat by the bedside, holding his father's cold hand.
"Dad… I brought you here. You're going to be okay, I promise," Tora whispered.
Marco's eyelids fluttered. It took a moment, but slowly, he opened his eyes.
"Tora..." he whispered faintly, his voice barely audible.
Tora leaned in closer. "I'm here, Dad. Please… hang on."
"Yamile! Where is she? Bring her here," Marco said in a faint whisper.
---
Meanwhile, deep in the forest, the truck carrying the children rumbled slowly down the slope toward the city. Yamile sat with them in the back, cradling a few sleeping children in her lap. Maya clutched her hand tightly, as if unwilling to let go.
"Are we… really going to be safe?" Maya asked softly.
Yamile nodded. "Yes. Soon you'll be reunited with your parents. Everything will be alright."
Their destination was the town hall, to bring the children there to meet their parents. Zhao continued driving the truck through the empty roads until they reached the city center. It was clear that the eastern city remained eerily quiet—fear lingered, and peace had yet to return.
The twilight sky darkened as Zhao's truck finally stopped in front of the eastern city's town hall. The old building still stood firm, though the scars of battle and chaos remained on its walls—bullet holes, shattered windows yet to be replaced, and a name plaque hanging askew. Yet, on this day, the place bore witness to a new hope.
Yamile was the first to jump off the truck, opening the rear doors and helping the children down one by one. Some of them were still asleep, exhausted from the long journey and trauma they had endured. Others looked around in confusion and anxiety, unsure whether their nightmare had truly ended.
The commotion of their arrival drew the townspeople from the shelter. They poured out of the bunkers to meet the arriving children.
"Mama, Papa!" Maya shouted when she saw her parents emerging from the town hall. The little girl with pigtails ran to embrace them. It was a truly heartwarming moment.
Other children followed suit, running to their parents with joy. But some children didn't find their parents—either because their parents had died or were still taking refuge elsewhere. Still, the townspeople at the hall quickly stepped in to care for those children.
At last, Yamile and Zhao felt a sense of relief, a burden lifted from their shoulders. Smiles broke across their faces, filled with joy seeing the children find happiness again.
"Zhao, there's still something we need to take care of," Yamile said as she patted her brother's shoulder.
"Where's Tora? Let's go find him."
Zhao nodded and showed her a message from Tora. Now, Tora and Uncle Marco were at the eastern city hospital.
Without delay, Yamile and Zhao left the town hall. They left a message with the hall leader to care for the children who had yet to reunite with their families and asked the remaining medical staff in the city to help care for them. The truck roared to life once again, this time heading toward the city hospital.
During the ride, Yamile remained mostly silent. Her face was serious, her thoughts racing in all directions.
"Only Uncle Marco can answer all my questions," she murmured, staring at the darkening road ahead.
"Don't trust others so easily, especially your enemies," Zhao replied, gripping the steering wheel firmly.
Eventually, Yamile and Zhao arrived at the hospital. The lights were dim, the corridors quiet and tense. The only sounds were the heartbeat monitors, nurses' footsteps, and hushed conversations.
They made their way to the ICU. From a distance, they saw Tora sitting with his head down.
"Tora!" Yamile called softly as she approached him.
Tora looked up quickly, then stood. His face looked a bit more at ease, though his eyes were still red. "You're here…"
"How's Uncle Marco?" Zhao asked.
"Still critical. His body's full of wounds," Tora answered quietly.
"I want to go in!" Yamile declared firmly and walked straight to the ICU door.
The three of them entered the ICU room. Marco still lay weakly on the bed, an oxygen tube in his nose.
"Is he conscious?" Yamile asked softly.
"You came, Yamile," Marco said faintly as he slowly opened his eyes. Just speaking those few words made him breathe heavily—it was exhausting.
"You must want to know the truth, don't you?"
After saying that, Marco began to cough violently, blood spewing from his mouth. Tora, Yamile, and Zhao panicked. But Marco stopped them from calling the doctor. He only asked for one thing—a paper and a pen. Marco wanted to tell the truth in writing.
Once he had what he needed, Marco began to write the truth about the death of Yamile and Zhao's parents. His message was long, and the three waited patiently. After finishing, Marco handed the paper to Yamile.
Yamile took it and read it together with Tora and Zhao.
"This disaster happened because of Mugan. He was my superior in the intelligence agency.
Yamile, you were probably told by Sora. Your mother did sacrifice herself so that your father could gain demonic power. However, your mother's sacrifice was voluntary and not coerced. She chose to die with purpose rather than waste away.
In fact, your mother had already been poisoned and was only waiting for death. But before that came, she chose to end her life by drowning in the sea.
And who poisoned your mother? It was Mugan!"
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