Lector raised a brow, amused.

"I was wondering how it got to you. So the Sultra was your aunt, huh?" Lector put a hand on the sleeping Amira’s purple hair. "Do you know that your aunt was a really famous person?"

"You think I wouldn’t have discerned that from yours and Draena’s inquiries?"

"True. You are smart."

"But was she related to the Prowlers? Who are Sultras? I only know my aunt was top 200 in her field when she was still alive."

Lector laughed out loud.

"Top 200?" He spat out. "Don’t make me laugh, Lucien. Suzie was easily top 10 Sultra. Some might even argue the top 5. I remember seeing her... when I was still young. She and my Superior, Winchester, were close friends after all."

"Wait a minute." Lucien frowned. "How old are you?"

Lector blinked.

"Does that matter?"

"Right. I suppose it doesn’t. Well, what are Sultras?"

"They’re basically people with the ability to create and amend the laws of The Union. High-ranking Sultras carry the presence of The Union itself."

Lucien massaged his forehead.

"Please don’t elaborate. I don’t want to know more. I might start questioning my existence."

"Nephew of one of the greatest Sultras of our age. You know, even in death, she’s a rank 50 Sultra. One who once specialized in the regulation of civilian law. Winchester, a lower-ranking Sultra, specializes in Prowler and Logistics."

"I said don’t elaborate!"

"Fine, fine." Lector dismissively waved a hand. "Now, about how you know the things you..."

Lucien stared at Lector, looking smug.

Lector looked dumbfounded for a second, but then he grinned and shook his head, understanding.

"You sly vermin. Now you don’t have to explain anything as that basically explains your background, huh. Nephew of one of the greatest Sultras on Earth."

Lucien shrugged.

"Doesn’t mean anything when you’re a struggling zero trying to survive with a kid." He glanced at Amira. "Two kids. Don’t ask anything about the second one."

"I’ll respect that." Lector nodded, sighing. "And I guess it’s time I tell you my story..."

Lucien adjusted his posture, tapping Mikky’s head softly.

"Finally."

"You see, my younger brother and I were born in a zerozone..."

***

About an hour after Lucien and Lector’s conversation, the Prowler and his partner stood ready at the entrance to the uncompleted building, holding their bag and belongings, ready to move.

Lector’s grin was as Lector-ish as ever. And Draena was... Well, standing there. Next to Lector.

"Goodbye, Lettor," Mikky said, patting Lector’s leg. "I’ll miss your snacks."

Lector turned, gazing at Michael. His smile turned warm.

"Goodbye, kid. Bumping into you guys has been a lovely coincidence."

Lucien now understood why Lector’s gaze seemed to change and soften whenever he stared at Michael.

And he smiled knowingly.

Lector gazed at Lucien. Hazel eyes digging into an emerald pair.

"Goodbye, Luciano."

"Goodbye, Prowler. Thanks for the Units." Lucien gestured at his backpack in the corner.

Lector scoffed, facing forward.

"I’ll see you around. Maybe."

And just before Draena left, her azure eyes caught Lucien’s.

Lucien frowned. And then, suddenly, he smiled.

And he crouched, outstretching his fingers toward Mikky’s back. And he pinched something there.

A really tiny thing. Like an ant.

It was a tracking device.

Standing upright and looking into Draena’s shocked eyes, Lucien winked and crushed the device.

The woman smiled, nodding to herself. And she walked off with Lector.

’Damn woman.’

***

The first sign of the moon came—silver rays raining down on a darkness-enshrouded world.

Those rays trickled into that one room of the uncompleted building where Lucien and Mikky currently were.

They’d eaten dinner, bought from a food place at the corner of the street. Those units they’d gotten from Lector had made them significantly richer, if Lucien were being honest.

Now his and Mikky’s stomachs were full, his backpack was filled with thousands of Units, and the air was extra crispy that night. What more could Lucien ask for?

Well, more, apparently, because he and Michael were on their knees, holding a plate of fried rice — as Mikky had suggested was a great way to appease anyone — and they were in front of Amira, waiting for the girl to wake up.

Lucien felt sweat roll down his forehead as he gazed at the purple-haired child.

"You think she’ll kill us if she wakes up?" Mikky suddenly asked.

Lucien frowned, a bit startled by the question.

"What? No! But she might bite us..."

"Bite? What kind of monster– are you sure she’s the new sibling, Luci?"

"Well, I’m one hundred percent certain. Although I don’t know why we’re kneeling like this–"

"It’s the best way to serve fried rice!"

"Who did you even learn that from?"

"The mysterious ruler above the grey fog."

’Klein Moretti?’

"You and your–"

"Who are you?" A weak, childish, feminine voice echoed.

Lucien and Michael turned toward the direction of the voice, gulping.

Amira knelt in front of them, wide amethyst eyes studying Lucien and Mikky simultaneously, purple hair swaying with every movement of her neck.

’When did she even wake up?’

Seeing no reply to her question, the girl tilted her head.

"Well?"

Quite a funny sight.

She was dressed in rags. A torn brown gown. Her figure looked weak and scraggly, her lips pale, her face devoid of proper fleshing. And the silver rays of the moonlight highlighted several bruises and markings on her body, speaking untold tales of what she’d been through.

But at that moment, contrary to Lucien’s expectations, the girl didn’t attack them. If anything, she seemed curious, mimicking their kneeling positions, tilting her head, watching them.

And as Lucien blinked, she also blinked.

Whispering as though she might run if he spoke too loudly, Lucien said:

"I’m Lucien." He turned to Mikky. "And this is Michael."

The girl finally straightened her neck, nodding as she regarded them both.

"Lucien... Michael."

She nodded once more.

And then, without any cause or reason, she smiled.

Lucien raised a brow.

It was an unexpectedly bright and sunny smile. A smile that didn’t fit a face as dried up and skinny as hers. But it was still a beautiful smile, a smile carrying the weight of suffering.

And then, amidst her smile, tears rolled down from Amira’s eyes. And she stood up immediately, turning her head.

"I’m no longer there, right?" She asked. "I’m no longer back at that place, right?"

As she asked that, the tears began pouring in full, and she wiped at them, chest heaving, breath going off rhythm. But her smile remained.

Lucien stood up immediately, handing the plate of rice to a silent but watching Mikky.

And then, Lucien embraced the little girl.

"You’re a strong girl," he whispered into her ear. "That place is gone now. You’re never going to suffer there anymore. You’re never..."

Sniffling, Amira pulled away from Lucien’s embrace, glaring at him.

"Don’t touch me!"

Lucien took a step backward, clearing his throat.

’Understandable.’

She cleaned her tears on her own, calmed herself on her own, and then, she asked coldly, in a tone no 5-year-old should speak with:

"Where are we, Mister?"

Lucien was about to reply when he heard a pounding, growling sound.

Grrrr–!

Amira remained silent.

"Wanna eat?" Mikky raised the plate of rice. "It’s fried rice. Yummy."