Chapter 6: Perseverance of the little girl

They chose a route with fewer creatures—one that kept them visible to the people at the barricade. Not long after, they were able to unite with them without much trouble.

The journey was smooth, and in just about ten minutes, they reached the barricade. Spotting them, the people inside quickly opened the gate, allowing them to slip through safely.

The mother broke into tears. She gently shifted Cyre to the front, wrapping her arms around her daughter in a tight embrace—like fabric pulled snug over something fragile, yet with a softness that held no harm.

"As you promised, I’ll leave Cyre in your care." said the mother, her voice trembling through her sobs.

“What are you saying? We’re already safe here,” Nova replied, furrowing his brows, concern sharpening his tone.

“My skill can actually see multiple future paths, among them, there are paths where I survive… even paths where the three of us make it through together. But in all those futures, humanity… doesn’t survive in the end.”

She caressed her daughter's head, her voice still trembling.

“The only future where humanity does survive… is the one where our daughter survives alone. I can't explain the detail... but one of the conditions is that you must be the one to take care of my daughter."

She sobbed harder, then pressed a gentle kiss to her daughter's cheek.

“Wait, does that mean you let your husband be ki—” rambled Nova.

But before he could finish, a deafening explosion tore through the air in the distance. One of the barricades had been blown apart. A massive breach. From the opening, the creatures surged in. Screams erupted—panic spread fast. Compared to where they were now, many people were in danger over there.

The blast jolted Cyre awake. She blinked, dazed. Then her gaze landed on her mother’s face—streaked with tears, contorted with sorrow.

“Mother?” Cyre called softly, confused.

But soon, she realized that her mother's cry was unnatural. In an instant, her face turned pale. “Where is Father?” shouted Cyre.

Cyre knew immediately, as her mother had never cried like this before—not once in her life.

“Sorry! I’ll help them first. Please head to the stairs by yourself,” said Nova, dashing with his full power.

“Big brother?” Cyre muttered, turning her head to Nova.

After Nova had put some distance between himself and the pair, he faintly heard the mother speaking to her daughter.

"Cyre, your father is dead. So, listen..."

Her voice faded, growing quieter with each step, until it vanished entirely behind him as Nova dashed forward with everything he had.

…

"Cyre, your father is dead. So, listen.” The mother gently lowered Cyre to the ground.

Cyre’s eyes welled with tears almost instantly. “No!” she snapped, voice sharp with grief. She looked up at her mother with a piercing glare. “You’re going to say you’ll die, right?!”

Cyre’s mother jolted. She kept her smile.

'She knows... But how? I never told her about my ability. Does she know it from my slip of a mistake? No… I passed the information to Bernard on a piece of paper. I burned it right after. No one else was around.' thought Cyre's mother.

“Cyre, listen.” Cyre mother preserve.

“No!” Cyre shouted louder, her tiny fists clenched, her whole body trembling. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks. “You’re going to say I have to go with Big Brother Nova, right?!”

Cyre’s mother flinched again, as if the words had struck her. ‘I know she’s just a six-year-old girl who doesn’t want to be separated from her mother. That’s normal… But still—she’s a little too spoiled,’ Cyre’s mother thought.

"How did you know, Cyre?" her mother asked softly.

"Your tone sounded sad, Mother," Cyre replied, sniffling, her eyes still glistening with tears.

'I see… so it’s just her intuition,' Cyre’s mother thought. She smiled, a small wave of relief washing over her.

“Cyre! Listen!” shouted Cyre’s mother, her voice stern and trembling with urgency.

Cyre jolted, startled. She bit her lip and clenched her small fists tightly, trying to hold back her sobs.

Then, through a narrow gap in the swarm of creatures, Cyre caught sight of something.

A skinny man holding a torch was stumbling, his body collapsing mid-run. As he fell, something slipped from his free hand—a round object, roughly the size of a fist. It tumbled through the air, spinning toward her direction.

Cyre’s eyes widened in alarm. Her gaze drifted instinctively toward the broken barricade in the distance.

“Grenade!” shouted Cyre, her voice sharp with panic. She grabbed her mother’s hand and pulled her with all the strength her small body could muster, dashing to the side to evade the incoming threat.

Her mother glanced at her wristwatch as she ran, being pulled along. “Cyre, be a good kid, okay!” she said, her voice soft.

The grenade exploded behind them. In a split second, fire surged outward, engulfing everything nearby. The blast caught them mid-run, the force hurling their bodies forward—her mother’s body shielding her, as she had been behind Cyre the entire time.

On top of that the explosion shattered the barricade, opening a path for the creatures to march inside.

Her mother, who took the full brunt of the blast, had her back torn open. With an injury so severe, people would have writhed in pain—but she didn’t move at all. She had already become a corpse.

Cyre, pinned beneath her mother’s corpse with one cheek pressed to the ground, couldn’t stop her tears from flowing uncontrollably. She felt nothing from her mother—no warmth, no breath, no movement. Her mother also hadn’t made a single sound after the explosion. Cyre knew her mother was already gone.

Cyre tears poured from the eyes above streamed into her eyes in the bottom. Cyre squeezed her bottom eye shut as the salty drops from above stung it. She bit her trembling lip, her mouth quivering in a silent struggle.

A moment later, she shut both of her eyes and opened her mouth wide. Like her throat had been stifled by something elastic and gluey, she cried, screaming without a sound.

…

Footsteps echoed.

A skinny man appeared, rushing in just before the creatures arrived. Without hesitation, he rolled Cyre’s mother’s lifeless body aside, his face tight with urgency. Then, in one swift motion, he lifted Cyre into his arms—cradling her sideways, one arm wrapped securely around her stomach. Cyre dangled limply in his grip, lying on her side as the man broke into a run.

Cyre didn’t resist as she was carried away. But slowly, she opened her eyes and closed her mouth, her cries fading for a moment.

In the distance, she saw Nova fighting. Amid it, his eyes flicked toward her. Their gazes met. But since Nova had to protect the frightened civilians behind him, he could only glance at Cyre from time to time.

Cyre closed her eyes and opened her mouth again as she was carried away by the skinny man, who ran toward the stairs. It was an advance, marked only by the sound of footsteps and the silent crying of a little girl.

…

People moved with urgency, forming a wedge to pierce into the advancing swarm, separating the rushing creatures from those still outside—making themselves the new barricade: a wall of people holding torches.

But roughly twenty creatures had already poured in before the breach was sealed. Not everyone was armed with a torch. Those caught without protection—some were killed. Only the groups with skilled fighters or special abilities managed to hold their ground and survive.

Nova was among this group. It consisted of three fighters, a skill holder, and three of the creatures. The skill holder and one fighter were each engaging a creature. Meanwhile, Nova and the remaining fighter worked together against the third—one acting as a shield, absorbing and deflecting attacks, while Nova waited for the right moment to strike.

As the creature lunged, Nova’s partner parried its hands, staggering it for half a second. Nova stepped in, his expression sharp with focus. He drove his weapon into the creature’s chest, aiming straight for the heart. It howled and thrashed, but Nova held firm. With a sharp twist and a burst of strength, he pierced through, ending the creature’s life.

He then rushed to help the other two, each still locked in battle with a creature. In a brief moment of relieve, he glanced toward the mother and daughter who had run for the stairs. But when he looked around, all he saw was a skinny man carrying Cyre. The mother was nowhere in sight. He searched the area where they'd been before—and instead of the mother, he saw a swarm of creatures. There was no sign of the mother anywhere.

He turned his gaze back to Cyre. In that moment, their eyes met. Nova felt conflicted and sad, but he decided to focus on the fight in front of him—at least Cyre was safe. Still, he couldn’t help but glance her way from time to time until it was hard to see her.

…

A few moments later, the fight was over for every group—the twenty creatures had been annihilated. Realizing time was running out, they all headed toward the stairs.

Conversations were bound to happen along the way.

According to the people around Nova, the disaster had been caused by those who were denied entry to the barricade. It was the people who had stayed on the roof, even though each of them was holding a green fire torch. They had been seen stealing torches from others—even using people as bait for the creatures. No one had expected them to obtain a grenade, especially since there were supposedly no military personnel among them.

They also talked about another thing.

It seemed there were two sets of stairs: one for adults and one for children. The aliens had promised the government that they would train the children as humanely as possible, treating them differently from the adults, who were already seventeen years old. However, given the limitations of what the aliens could do, the children had to make their way to the stairs on their own.

The conversation continued as they neared the stairs. However, at that moment, Nova noticed in the distance that Cyre was running toward him, being chased by a skinny man.