We transported Sora as discreetly as possible to a government complex, a special facility built after the invasion. This place, designed with extraordinary security measures, was created with the idea that, one day, individuals even more dangerous than Sora might emerge. We didn’t want to take unnecessary risks, not after everything we’d lost.

However, these concerns seemed to have faded into the background following an unexpected event that occurred about half a year ago. That incident marked a turning point in our perception of danger, of allies, and of enemies. As cities began to rise from ashes and rubble, and governments worked to unite nations under a single banner, something peculiar happened.

A group of individuals arrived unexpectedly. They were people dressed in striking outfits, uniforms reminiscent of darker times. Their attire, exceedingly refined, brought to mind the suits worn in Germany during the 1940s. The most unsettling detail for those who saw them was the red armband they wore. On it, the symbol of the black sun stood out, powerful and menacing. It was impossible to ignore, impossible not to wonder what it could mean.

Within minutes, armed troops intercepted them. Yet, to everyone’s surprise, they carried no weapons. These strangers came as ambassadors, or so they claimed. Their demeanor was solemn, almost arrogant, and their numbers far exceeded what any reasonable escort would require. Dozens of wary eyes followed them as they approached the government doors, demanding to be heard. They sought to establish an embassy to "improve relations." That was when tensions, already on the verge of breaking, reached a critical point.

I remember the start of those negotiations vividly because I was present for each one. My role was to observe, ensure safety, and be ready in case something went wrong. And honestly, everything seemed destined to go wrong.

—Our nation will not take your actions as provocation to start a war. However... — one of the ambassadors said in a calculated tone, carefully observing everyone present.

—Our actions!? — someone on the committee interrupted, barely containing their fury. —You were the ones who killed thousands and left wounds that will never heal for so many more! —

The discussions were not just tense; they were unbearable. Words flew through the air like bullets, filled with pain, resentment, and fear. Outside, the streets were filled with protesters. Thousands of people shouted, demanding that these "ambassadors" be immediately expelled from the planet. They called them a threat, an insult, an open wound that would never heal. And, in a sense, they were right.

Nevertheless, after endless days of talks, veiled threats, and pleas disguised as diplomacy, an agreement was reached. A fragile balance. The peace talks found a middle ground, a place where both sides could breathe, though with distrust. That facility, which now served as a prison, originally designed to contain beings of incalculable power, had ended up as the home of captured soldiers and "war criminals" who had survived the invasion.

Now it was Sora's turn. We took him to that place, but he wasn’t alone. The girl was with him, like an inseparable shadow. We tried everything to keep her away from Sora. It was Naoko who first tried to persuade her with kind words, telling her that everything would be fine, that it was only temporary. Kiomi, on the other hand, was more direct; she tried to physically separate them, but the girl clung to Sora with a determination that seemed almost superhuman. It seemed impossible to detach her from him. At first, we thought Sora had some kind of control over her, some mental or emotional bond that forced her to stay by his side. But no.

It was her. Only her.

When we finally left them in the cell, what we saw was something none of us expected. The girl, who had fought tooth and nail to stay by Sora, settled on his lap. She closed her eyes and, within seconds, fell asleep. It was a strange scene, filled with a tenderness that shouldn’t have had a place in that place.

Sora didn’t say anything. Not a word. He just sat there in the darkest corner of the cell, holding her with a tenderness that seemed out of place for someone like him. However, his gaze spoke.

—What’s her name? — I asked, trying to sound indifferent, though the coldness in my voice was evident.

—Nanao, — Sora replied, his tone surprisingly calm. —At least, that’s what she told me when I asked her. —

—Does she have parents? — I continued, not giving an inch in my stance.

—I don’t know, — he said, lowering his gaze for a moment, as if it weighed more on him than he wanted to admit. —When I found her, she was alone, in that building... completely alone. —

There were no excuses in his words, nor unnecessary explanations. Just bare facts, delivered with a calmness I didn’t expect from someone like him. Still, I couldn’t ignore the part of me that wanted to doubt, that wanted to believe Sora was hiding something.

We decided to leave them alone for a while. It wasn’t out of mercy, but to observe from a distance, to try to decipher the bond between them. During that time, I couldn’t shake the image of the girl sleeping in Sora’s lap, as if it were the only safe place in the world. It bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

I spent the rest of the day insisting, pressing to be allowed to take Sora out of the cell, at least for a while. I needed answers, and I knew locking him up wouldn’t give me any. If I wanted to understand him, if I wanted to pull the truth from him, I had to talk to him in a less oppressive space. In the end, after much effort, I managed to convince my superiors.

The next day, I personally went to fetch them. To my surprise, Nanao had settled in the cell as if it were her home. She didn’t want to leave. That cold, gray place was all she had known since Sora found her. To make her more comfortable, they had brought her clothes, sheets, pillows, toys, and even hot food. It was an attempt to soften her reality, though I couldn’t help but think that they were just band-aids for a much deeper problem.

When I took them out of the cell, I took precautions. I used a bit of my mana to alter Sora’s appearance, making him look like an ordinary human. It wasn’t his true self, but an illusion created to avoid suspicion. However, when Nanao saw him, she froze. Her eyes filled with concern, as if she feared that I had made the person so important to her disappear.

—Don’t worry, little one, — Sora said with a smile I had never seen on his face. There was something warm and genuine in that expression, something that disarmed any attempt to see him as a monster. —I’m still me. —

From his hand, a flower bloomed. It wasn’t just any flower; it was perfect, as if it had been created for a unique purpose. He offered it to Nanao, who took it gently, as if it were a treasure.

—You’ve softened, — I commented, more as a provocation than a casual remark.

—Maybe I have, — he replied with a slight shrug, not denying anything.

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We began walking through the plaza, a busy and lively place. People passed by us, unaware of who we were and the stranger walking handcuffed beside me. To avoid unnecessary stares, I used a bit more mana to make the handcuffs invisible. It was a temporary solution, but enough to maintain appearances.

After a moment of silence, I decided to break it.

—What happened after that day? — I asked, keeping my gaze straight ahead.

Sora took a moment to respond, as if organizing his thoughts. Finally, he began to speak, his voice soft but carrying a weight that I couldn’t ignore.

—When I managed to materialize again, I found myself in the middle of chaos. Their search teams were relentless, and I couldn’t risk getting caught. So, I hid. I found that building... somewhat abandoned, neglected. I thought it would be a good place to recover, at least enough to get off the planet. —

He paused, as if recalling something he’d rather forget.

—It took me a whole month to fully recover my body. During that time, people started returning to their homes. I tried not to cross paths with anyone, but…—

He suddenly stopped. His gaze drifted toward Nanao, who was walking a few steps ahead of us, delicately holding the flower. A soft smile formed on his lips, one that I couldn’t help but notice. It was different from any other expression I had seen on him before.

—But then I found her, — he continued, his tone almost nostalgic. —Alone, scared, lost.—

—That’s when she appeared,” Sora continued, his voice taking on a melancholic note. He paused for a moment, staring into the horizon as if reliving every detail. “She came in through the door, curious, as if she had sensed something unusual was there. I was sitting, exhausted from trying to maintain my physical form. As soon as I saw her, I noticed her fragility, but at the same time, there was something in her eyes... something I hadn’t seen in a long time. However, when she noticed me, she got scared and ran off. —

Sora paused, looked up at the sky, and exhaled with a slight tremor in his voice.

—Always... it’s always been like this. Since my brother and I were rescued by the Overlord, the leader of the nation, my life has been one constant comparison. Since then, I’ve been seen as a phenomenon. Compared to him, I’m nothing. I’m not strong, I’m not attractive, I’m not... anything. I’ve always been feared because of my appearance, always. —

I noticed how his words faltered, as if each confession tore a piece of his emotional armor. His gaze hardened as he looked down at the ground.

—I decided to change my face, make it more... acceptable, more beautiful. I thought maybe, just maybe, that way they’d stop seeing me as a monster. But it didn’t turn out the way I expected. —

Sora laughed without joy, with bitterness, and continued:

—One day, while I was looking out the window, I saw an ad. They were selling rabbit masks. I thought to myself: ‘Maybe, with something like this, they won’t see me as a monster.’ —

Before I could respond, Nanao’s sweet voice interrupted the moment.

—But you look good, brother, — she said with a beaming smile, casually playing with a small bouquet of flowers.

Sora couldn’t help but smile slightly, as if those words had touched a forgotten chord in his heart.

—Thank you, little one, — he replied, gently stroking her hair. —It was then that I designed that mask, hoping the little creature I had seen would have the courage to return. And she did. —

He raised his head, remembering.

—She came back, trembling, but with a courage I couldn’t ignore. She was armed with whatever she found on the way, though I knew she couldn’t hurt me. It made me laugh and feel tenderness at the same time. Since then, she started coming every day. —

Nanao interrupted again, this time with boundless energy.

—We played a lot! You always won, but it was so much fun. —

Sora looked at her with an expression that could only be described as pure love, a feeling I hadn’t expected to see in someone who had sworn to be my enemy.

—She seemed lonely... like I once was. She never talked about her family, and I noticed she barely ate. I started looking for food, the best I could, so she’d have something decent every day. —

—And it was all so tasty! — Nanao said, raising her arms, celebrating as if those days had been the best of her life.

—She reminded me of me, — Sora continued, his voice softer, as if talking to himself. —The person I once was, weak, scared, waiting for someone to come save me. —

He looked at Nanao and smiled tenderly.

—She saved me, even though she never realized it. —

Nanao looked at him with bright eyes, as if understanding the magnitude of his words.

—You’re my hero too! — she said, stopping suddenly and turning to look at both of us. —You’re my brother! —

Sora couldn’t help but laugh, lifting her up effortlessly.

—Thank you, Nanao, — he whispered as he hugged her tightly.

We continued walking, and although I tried to stay distant, it was impossible not to be affected by what I was hearing.

—She made me feel like someone, — Sora suddenly said, breaking the silence. —For the first time in my life, someone made me feel like I was worth something. —

He turned his gaze to me.

—Just like you. No one had ever recognized my efforts, not even in that battle. But you did. Although I didn’t understand it at the time, that day you changed something in me.—

His confession caught me off guard. I didn’t know how to respond, so I opted to remain silent.

The rest of the day was spent talking. The more I listened to his story, the more I understood him. It didn’t justify his actions, but I could see the pain that had led him to this point.

Nanao, with her innocence and joy, filled every corner with contagious energy. I thought that, perhaps, she could get along with Lyra and Aiko.

We sat on an old wooden bench while the sunset painted the sky in warm tones. The air was calm, but heavy with a weight I couldn’t fully identify. Nanao slept deeply in Sora’s lap, her breathing steady, a contrast to the exhaustion reflected on his face. There was something in the way he looked at her, a paternal care that seemed to protect her even in her dreams.

After a while of silence, Sora broke the stillness with a low but firm tone.

—You should be careful, — he said, his eyes still fixed on the horizon.

—Careful with what? — I asked, already suspecting that what he was about to say wouldn’t be easy to hear.

Sora turned his gaze to me, as if evaluating whether or not he should continue.

—With the empire... well, as we call the EDI from the inside. —

—What’s going on with them? — I inquired, feeling a slight shiver run through me.

Sora exhaled slowly, as if each word he was about to say took effort.

—They’ve never sought peace. Never. As long as I can remember, all they’ve wanted is control. Although there are few nations left to conquer in the universe, the few that survive resist because the empire doesn’t forgive them. —

—Do you mean that...? — I left the sentence hanging, hoping he’d finish it.

Sora nodded gravely.

—Exactly. That embassy you’re talking about is nothing but a facade. In the entire history of the empire, they’ve never done anything like that. There’s no precedent for genuine diplomacy, and that only means one thing: something is brewing, something we can’t predict. —

His warning hit me like a ton of bricks. My mind struggled to process what it meant.

—Thanks for telling me, — I finally responded, though I knew those words couldn’t encompass the magnitude of what he had just revealed.

The sun finally set, leaving an orange glow in the sky. We decided it was time to return.

When we reached his cell, Sora did something unexpected.

—Take her with you, — he said, carefully adjusting Nanao to avoid waking her. —This is no place for a child to sleep. —

His tone was softer than usual, almost pleading. Without hesitation, I picked her up, surprised at how light she was.

—Thank you, — Sora murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

I returned to the café with Nanao in my arms. As we entered, Kio and Lyra greeted us with surprised but warm faces.

—Is it her? — Lyra asked, approaching cautiously.

—Yes, — I replied, as I settled Nanao onto an improvised couch.

When she woke up, the first thing she did was look for Sora desperately. Her eyes reflected fear and confusion, as if the distance between them was unbearable.

—I want to be with my brother! — she exclaimed, flailing her arms as we tried to calm her down.

It was Lyra who finally managed to get close enough to take her hands.

—It’s okay, Nanao. Sora is fine, and I promise you’ll see him soon. But now you need to rest a bit more, okay? — she said with such tenderness that it broke through the little one’s anxiety.

Kio also intervened, showing her a couple of improvised toys he had hidden in the café. Slowly, Nanao began to relax.

Within a few hours, she had integrated into the group as if she had always belonged. She quickly became friends with Aiko and Lyra, and together they filled the place with childish laughter, something I hadn’t heard in a long time.

As I watched them play, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way for this chaos to end without the most innocent people having to suffer any longer.