Henry knew that man.

Hall knew this person.

Normally, he didn't go down to the mine. When an accident occurred, he would appear at the survivors' homes, whenever he could find them, to return the belongings of the deceased to their families, and if the boss was in a good mood, he would also bring a modest amount of compensation.

For him to descend into the mine could mean only one thing, something Henry would rather die than find out.

The supervisor pointed to Henry without a shred of pity: “There, it’s him.”

The man in black began walking toward Henry.

Every step he took sounded, to Henry's ears, as heavy as bones falling to the earth.

“No... no... There must be some mistake...” Henry pleaded, almost kneeling.

The man in black was used to such scenes. He did not stop for even a moment, his steps steady as death itself. Having done this for more than a decade, he knew he didn’t make mistakes because death doesn’t make mistakes.

“Mr. Henry...”

The man’s voice was deep, carrying a sadness befitting his profession.

“It is with great regret that I inform you...”

"No, don’t say it, please!"

Henry almost screamed but couldn’t. His body was on the verge of collapse, unable to obey his mind’s commands. Every cell in his being was focused on what the man in black would say next—words Henry had already guessed—

"Your daughter has passed away."

“...your daughter has passed away.”

The man in black finished the sentence.

Henry fell to his knees, collapsing as if swallowed by the mine’s darkness. His lips trembled, but all he could mutter was, “Ah...”

Suddenly, he stood up, shoving the man in black and a guard who tried to stop him. The strength of his metallic limbs, made for hauling heavy stones, was astonishing. Other guards hesitated to intervene, while the supervisor shouted after him:

“Hey! You still have work to do! You’re fired!”

The supervisor’s voice soon faded into the tunnels. Some miners looked up to watch Henry leave, their expressions filled with genuine sorrow, more real than that of the man in black.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“What are you looking at? Do you want to get fired too?”

The supervisor snapped at them.

The miners lowered their heads again, offering Henry the small share of grief they could spare.

The man in black revealed an almost imperceptible smile.

The red moon emblem in his pocket began to warm, as if it had detected something in the ever-growing scent emanating from Henry.

The scent of the bones of the old gods, which had formed the throne of the Red Moon.

Henry ran non-stop until he reached the building where he lived.

It was a crooked, eight-story structure, resembling a haphazard stack of blocks piled by a child. Simple iron stairs climbed the walls, fragile and dangerous, as if ready to collapse at any moment.

Under the stairs, a few people were carrying a black bundle.

Henry rushed toward them, using his metallic limbs to push them aside with force. He tore the black fabric, revealing a familiar face at rest.

Jenny, his beloved daughter.

“Henry, we need to take... your daughter away. The body might cause contamination.”

It was Henry’s landlord speaking. He had started to say Jenny’s name but couldn’t remember it, so he corrected himself to “your daughter.”

“Jenny had tuberculosis! It’s not contagious!”

Henry, usually timid as a mouse, now roared like a lion. His bloodshot eyes and hoarse voice made it clear that he would not let anyone take his daughter’s body away.

“But...”

“Get out of here!”

The landlord tried to argue, but Henry shouted so forcefully that the man didn’t dare press the issue. Henry’s metallic limbs gleamed in the light, and no one wanted to test the strength of those prosthetics.

Henry carried his daughter’s body into his small apartment.

The space was tiny: a steel bunk bed, a table, and a few cardboard boxes filled almost the entire room.

Half of a cracked mirror was mounted on the wall, something Jenny had brought home. The kitchen was on the balcony, and the bathroom was shared downstairs.

Despite its size, the apartment was the cleanest in the entire building, because Jenny always kept it tidy.

He carefully laid Jenny on the bed. Her eyes were closed, and her expression was serene. Henry thought she still seemed to be breathing.

"Just three days ago, she had been well enough to walk a little. How could this have happened? Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe this was all a joke—a way for Jenny to tell him how much she missed him."

“Jenny? Jenny, Daddy’s back. You can stop pretending now.” Henry tried to speak in a cheerful tone, hoping his daughter would open her eyes and reply with the same joy: “I missed you so much!”

Jenny didn’t respond.

Henry tried to feel the pulse in her neck, but his metallic fingers, devoid of sensitivity, couldn’t detect anything.

He remembered that doctors had said that, in the dead, pupils become dilated. So he carefully opened his daughter’s eyelids.

Maybe the living also have pupils like this...

Henry ran to the mirror on the wall, pulling his own eyelids in various ways to compare. No matter what he did, his pupils never dilated like Jenny’s.

Jenny was truly dead.

Henry collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in his hands.

He needed to accept reality.

As he moved, something hard pressed against his back: a box of sugar candies.

"Ah, sugar. Jenny loved sugar."

Henry opened the box, took a candy, and tried to unwrap it. But his trembling fingers let the candy fall to the floor.

After searching everywhere, he found the dirty candy and placed it in his daughter’s mouth. It fell again. Henry picked it up once more and, this time, held Jenny’s jaw to keep it in place.

He had always worked hard, earning every possible cent to support his daughter. And in the end, all she had was a dust-covered candy.

“My condolences for your loss.”

A voice interrupted his thoughts.

A priest had silently entered the small apartment. His robe was old and patched, like a shadow worn thin by the light.

The priest held a sacred book and extended his hand to Henry.

“Rise, my brother. Do not grieve. Jenny now dwells in the glorious lands of the Red Moon, where she will find eternal joy.”