Why We Push Forward

The group pressed forward with renewed determination, their steps across the endless sand now carrying deeper purpose than before.

After about an hour of walking, the familiar shimmer of chaotic data began to form in the air ahead of them. Another unknown error anomaly materialized, its streams of code weaving together in patterns that defied comprehension.

Bolg stopped and studied the phenomenon, his red eyes reflecting the anomaly's unstable light. For a long moment, he remained silent, clearly weighing their options.

— We should go around it, Suzaku said, remembering their previous encounter.

But Bolg shook his head slowly.

— No. If Dave touches this one, we should be safe. There must be a reason these anomalies keep appearing directly in our path. The first one showed us his past... perhaps this one has a different purpose.

Alpha looked at Dave, who floated beside him with curiosity rather than the compulsive attraction he had shown before.

— What do you think? Alpha asked quietly.

Dave studied the swirling mass of code, his translucent form flickering slightly in its light.

— Bolg might be right. These things don't just appear randomly. If the Canvas is affecting the area around it, maybe these anomalies are trying to tell us something.

Without further hesitation, Dave reached out and touched the chaotic data with his ghostly hand.

This time, the visions that flooded their minds belonged to Kuria.

They saw a young girl with bright eyes living in a crowded orphanage, always staying close to a smaller boy with dark hair. Though they shared no blood, Kuria had claimed him as her little brother, fiercely protecting him from the older children who might pick on someone so small.

The two were inseparable, sharing meals and whispered conversations late into the night. They built imaginary kingdoms from scraps of cloth and broken toys, with Kuria always ensuring her little brother got the best parts to play.

Then came the day a wealthy family chose to adopt him. The boy tried to put on a brave front as they said their goodbyes, puffing out his chest and declaring that when he grew up, he would be the one to take care of her.

— I will come back for you, he promised, his small voice wavering. I will be strong enough to protect you then.

But time passed, and Kuria grew too old for adoption. She threw herself into studying the divine arts, finding purpose in becoming a cleric. It was during her training that she met Suzaku, another girl who had aged out of a different orphanage.

Kuria noticed the faint marks on Suzaku's arms and back - traces of abuse that the other girl tried to hide. Kuria's protective instincts awakened. She became the big sister once again, watching over Suzaku with gentle persistence.

But Suzaku's apparent timidity masked a rebellious spirit. After a few months, she left the church to seek a way of life that suited her better. Kuria watched another person dear to her walk away, leaving her alone again.

Years later, as an experienced cleric, Kuria accepted what seemed like a routine escort mission. The client was a young nobleman who needed protection during his travels. When she saw his face, her heart nearly stopped - it was her little brother from the orphanage, now grown and adopted into wealth.

They took time to catch up during breaks in their journey, sharing stories of the years that had separated them. He had kept his promise to grow strong, though in ways neither of them had expected.

But his adoption had made him a target. Other potential heirs viewed him with jealousy and envy, seeing him as a threat to their inheritance.

An ambush came without warning. Kuria fought desperately, but she could not protect him. As her little brother lay dying, her party blamed her for accepting a quest far beyond their capabilities because of her personal connection to the client.

The visions showed Suzaku returning to find Kuria broken and consumed with guilt. The once-timid girl had grown strong and self-reliant, counting only on herself because she had always struggled to trust others. But seeing Kuria's pain, Suzaku knew it was her turn to be strong for her big sister.

— You do not have to face this alone anymore, Suzaku had said, offering her hand. Let us make a party together.

The anomaly faded, leaving the group standing in stunned silence as they understood the bond between the two women who had found family in each other.

Kuria smiled awkwardly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at having her most painful memories exposed to everyone.

— Well, that was... unexpected, she said quietly.

Suzaku immediately stopped pouting and rushed forward, wrapping Kuria in a sudden, fierce hug. The display of open emotion was completely out of character for the usually stoic mage, but the rest of the group watched with understanding.

Alpha, Bolg, and Dave all recognized that sometimes the most reserved people showed their feelings in the most powerful ways when it truly mattered.

Kuria melted into the embrace, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

— Thank you for coming back to me, she whispered.

— I should never have left in the first place, Suzaku replied quietly, her arms tightening around her friend.

Bolg watched the reunion with growing understanding. He could not help but notice the striking resemblance between himself and the young boy from Kuria's memories. The same dark hair, the same small and fragile frame. He realized that Kuria might have consciously or unconsciously projected those memories of her little brother onto him.

Suzaku seemed to reach the same conclusion. Her gaze met Bolg's over Kuria's shoulder, and she recognized that he was not indifferent to what he had just witnessed. With a slight nod, she gestured for him to join them.

Bolg hesitated, his newly prominent horns and fangs making him feel like an intruder in this moment of human warmth. Slowly, he retracted his demonic features, allowing his appearance to return to the more subdued form he had worn during their travels.

He stepped forward and carefully wrapped his arms around both women, completing their circle.

Kuria felt his hesitation and looked up at him with gentle eyes.

— You do not need to hide who you are, she said tenderly. You are yourself, and nothing else. That is enough.

Bolg's red eyes glistened as he allowed his horns and fangs to return, accepting her words as the permission he had not known he needed.

After their moment of connection, the group gradually separated and resumed their march across the desert. The white horizon of the Horizon Canvas seemed no closer than before, but something had shifted in their determination.

As they walked, an unspoken understanding settled over them. Two anomalies had appeared so far, each revealing the painful past of a different group member. The pattern was becoming clear.

Bolg caught Alpha's eye and they exchanged a wry smile, both recognizing what the other was thinking. At some point, it would be their turn to have their memories laid bare for everyone to see.

Alpha adjusted his grip on his sword and kept walking, while Bolg maintained his steady pace at the front of the group. Neither spoke about their shared realization, but both carried the weight of knowing that their own past might soon be exposed to their companions.

Dave floated alongside Alpha, visible only to him, and the group pressed forward through the endless sand toward their uncertain destiny.