"Mom! Mom!"

"Stop it! She's not a monster—she's my mom!" Seeing the creature swallowed by holy flames and collapsing, Reed wailed with heart-wrenching sobs.

"Reed..." For Reed's safety, Fate held him tightly, refusing to let him interfere further with the knights' duty.

"No! Don't! My mom... she never hurt anyone! Why?! Why did you have to kill her?!" Reed struggled desperately to break free, failing, and pounded Fate's chest again and again.

"Kid, you okay?" After confirming the monster was truly dead, a knight approached. "What you just did was dangerously reckless—do you understand?!"

"Where are your parents? How could they let you do something like that?!"

"My parents..." Reed stared at the blackened corpse consumed by fire, pressing his trembling lips together. "My mom... that was my mom..."

"Mistaking a monster for his mother... is the kid sick?" The apprentice knight frowned, then turned to Fate.

"And you are?"

"Just passing by," Fate replied.

"Just passing by? Where'd you get that armor and sword?" The knight spotted the clergy insignia on Fate's arm.

"Oh—you're from the Dawn Temple?"

"Yes."

"Watch your kid. And you—this is the Inquisition Tribunal's business. Who gave you the right to step in?" the knight scolded.

"My apologies. I acted rashly."

The young knight said no more. The incident wasn't over—he still had casualties to tally and the scene to secure. No time for bystanders.

"Mom!" Reed lunged forward.

"Reed... you said that was your mother?" Only now did Fate recall why the monsters looked familiar. The strange illness... Reed's mother's face, half-transformed... it clicked.

"That's my mom!..." Reed stammered, stumbling toward the corpse before officers blocked him.

"Kid, don't obstruct official duty. The Inquisition Tribunal must transport this unprecedented specimen for study." Officers urged Fate to take Reed away, cordoning off the area and dispersing the crowd.

"You bad guys! Give me back my mom!" Overwhelmed, Reed charged at the officers.

"What's your problem, kid?!" The already tense security guard shoved him hard to the ground.

"Sir, was that necessary with a child?" Fate lifted Reed up, voice firm.

"You're his guardian, right? Keeping him safe is your job," the guard shot Fate a glance and turned away.

Fate fell silent. Neither guard nor knight was wrong. To them, monsters had attacked Bati City—killing civilians, destroying property. Mercy here meant endangering others.

"Reed, let's go home."

"Home?" Reed looked up, hollow-eyed. "Mr. Fate... where is my home now?"

"..."

"No one's waiting for me there anymore." Even led away, Reed's gaze never left the distant flames.

"..." They stood in silence for a long while.

"Mr. Fate... where's my dad?" Reed finally whispered, dazed.

Fate opened his mouth. Closed it.

He'd never known how to say it. Now—telling this child both parents were gone felt unbearably cruel.

"Dad... he can't come back either, can he?" Reed searched Fate's face, clinging to a last shred of hope.

"..." Silence shattered it.

"You... you promised you'd bring him back safely..." Reed's voice cracked, lips pale, trembling.

"... I'm sorry."

"You said..." Fate gently pulled Reed close, cradling the back of his head.

This child was bearing pain far beyond his years.

The agony of orphanhood.

Fate couldn't grasp it fully—he'd never had a father. His mother... he refused to remember.

No words could comfort this grief.

Time doesn't heal scars; it only teaches you to carry them. But when torn open again, the ache remains sharp.

Without a word, Fate sat with Reed on a park bench. All day. All night.

Reed wasn't sure if it was real—a soothing fragrance from Fate's embrace offered a tiny flicker of peace to his shattered heart.

Fate sat motionless beside him, without eating or drinking, like a rusted statue.

He couldn't fix the pain. But Reed wouldn't face it alone.

When Reed calmed slightly, Fate placed a heavy pouch of gold coins in his small hands.

"This was meant for your father," Fate said softly. "Now... it's yours."

Reed stared blankly at the pouch too large for his palms.

Once, his family needed this desperately. Now—what was it worth without a home?

"I'm sorry. Even I couldn't bring you two back together."

"..." Reed shook his head slowly. "You owed me nothing. Going to the Dawn Temple... that was my selfishness. I knew it was a church..."

"Mr. Fate... thank you for trying," Reed stammered through tears.

In that moment, Fate felt the boy had aged years in hours.

"And... you're just a gatekeeper, not even a knight. You did what you could."

True.

Fate gazed upward.

He was no longer a knight. No authority. No right. This was for true knights. Why had he stepped in?

Reed's hollow eyes held no tears—only numbness. In deep grief, crying becomes impossible.

Only he could walk through this. No one could carry him.

All Fate could do now was alert Nia to investigate the suspected cultist conspiracy behind the Bati City attack.

That—and sit beside him.

Silent. Present.

Not alone.