This was madness; it had to be some kind of stupid madness.

There was no better explanation.

The impact had been stronger than I had thought; I had downplayed it, almost saying it was nothing.

So how could I wake up in an unknown place, which turned out to be a library, only to be taken by a girl I didn't know to some sort of shelter while everything shakes and trembles, and then, in the end, she tells me that I am or calls me... dad?

Dad? Am I your father? What nonsense.

It has to be.

"Father, I'm leaving," she exclaimed, adjusting her suit.

I watched her, feeling a twitch in my eye and incredible discomfort. Is this a joke, right?

On the other side of the room, she had put on a suit.

I don't know when or how, but she, who had gone to the other side of the room into a dark corner, had put on a one-piece suit, predominantly white, gold, and silver.

Being tight-fitting, it had golden details on the chest and shoulders, giving it a regal look.

The dark pants with a diamond pattern in gold on the sides added a touch of elegance, and the gold belt cinched at the waist highlighted her figure.

The dark brown cloak with a white lining extended from her shoulders to the floor, adding movement and drama.

The white and gold mask covered the upper part of her face, leaving her mouth uncovered, adding an air of mystery.

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The black gloves and matching white boots completed the outfit with a touch of elegance.

The girl's appearance was, to me and most, good.

"Ah, yes, goodbye," I decided to go along with it. It hadn't been of any use.

I had tried to hide my nervousness, but she seemed to detect my strange reaction, muttering something about a concussion or something similar.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm going to see what's happening, I'm in the hero training program."

"It's my duty," she insisted, with a determined look as she adjusted the cloak over her shoulders.

"Heroes what?" I asked, frowning, trying to find a different meaning or logical explanation for this surreal situation.

"Wait, I..." I tried to articulate something, but my mind seemed to be in a whirlwind of confusion.

"Hey, listen, dad," she said, stopping for a moment to look at me with annoyance, leaning her body to my height and removing her mask to look at me fixedly with her yellow eyes.

"I know you don't like them. That you distrust them and have never seen them in a good light, but..." Her voice softened as if she were trying to find the right words.

"This hero thing. Protecting and helping has always been what I wanted."

"Yes, I know I lied to you about wanting to be an administrator of the GHG, but I knew that if I didn't lie, I could never get to the recruitment headquarters."

I watched her incredulously, trying to find some sign that this was a bad joke. But her expression was serious, and that only increased my bewilderment and confusion.

Could I say that I didn't understand anything she was saying? I wondered as I watched her rant, pouring out all her complaints about me, her thoughts, and aspirations.

What the hell was going on?

"Ever since I was young, discovering my powers..."

"No, it can't be," I murmured, shaking my head in an attempt to deny the obvious. "You're not my daughter; it can't be true."

She sighed, visibly frustrated by my refusal.

"Dad, I understand. I know this is hard to accept, but it's the truth. I'm your daughter, and I'm determined to become a heroine."

My thoughts churned in a sea of confusion and doubt. How could this young woman, who seemed to be my age or perhaps older, be my daughter? And more importantly, what was this about being a hero?

"This is madness," not knowing if I thought it or said it, I looked at the blonde dressed in a hero cosplay.

Of course, it should be cosplay from the moment she called me father. No, from the moment she spoke to me so casually, something was strange.

"Ha," I said as I saw the girl's look.

She looked at me with sadness, but also with determination.

"I'm sorry, dad. But this is my choice and my path to follow. I hope you can understand it someday."

"You just stay here."

With one last resigned sigh, I watched her walk away, disappearing beyond the door. I stayed alone, confused.

I decided to remain silent, letting the darkness of the bunker absorb my thoughts. The thundering continued to resonate around me, reminding me of the fragility of my reality. The girl might believe that my confusion could be due to the effects of concussions caused by the falling shelves combined with the fact that her real father seemed to abhor the idea of being a hero.

But in reality, it was simply my inability to accept what she claimed.

I mean, there were no heroes, at most cosplayers playing role-playing games; on the other hand, having a daughter the same age or even older without knowing it and with very different features was something crazy.