Coco woke to the smell of smoke.

She heard pounding at the door, followed by the village chief's voice.

"Run! The werewolves are here!"

Chills ran down her back. Werewolves were the scary man-eating monsters that Papa had told her stories about. She’d never encountered one before and had hoped that she would never have to.

She jolted up from her bed.

Her legs were so shaky that she fell when she tried standing. “Papa!”

Papa rushed over to support her. "We need to leave now. There's no time to pack."

His hands felt clammy and his face looked pale.

“I’m scared.”

“I’m scared too, but we have to move.”

Coco sniffled and nodded. Holding onto Papa’s hand, she left her home. She began coughing almost immediately after stepping outside, because the air was hot and thick with noxious smoke.

She stared at the surreal scene before her. The world outside was illuminated by fire. Flames roared and devoured the surrounding houses. Arrows jutted from the ground and rooftops.

She heard Papa’s voice.

“We need to keep moving.”

She willed her body to move, but it seemed to be rooted in place. Her whole body seemed to have stiffened.

“Coco!”

Papa’s voice brought her back to her senses. “I’m sorry.”

Papa ran, pulling her along.

The side of Molly’s house came into view. Its front door had been broken down. Screams came from inside.

A werewolf stepped out of the doorway. It looked much more frightening than she had imagined. A bronze suit of armor covered its large frame. Its muzzle was curled back to expose dagger-like teeth.

Molly was screaming and thrashing about as the werewolf dragged her by the hair.

Just as Coco was about to scream, Papa covered her mouth and pulled her aside. The two of them hid behind the side of the house.

“Shh...”

She gulped and nodded in response to Papa’s voice. Her heart beat so loudly that she was afraid the werewolf would hear it.

“Someone help me! Please! Help me!"

Coco clapped her shaky hands over her ears. There was nothing she could do to help Molly.

Amidst the screams, she heard an unfamiliar voice.

“Quiet! I was planning to gift you to my daughter, but if you don’t shut up I’ll eat you instead!”

Molly continued screaming.

Coco heard a growl, followed by a loud crack.

The screaming stopped. It was replaced by the sound of chewing and crunching.

This can’t really be happening, can it?

The thought of never seeing Molly again brought tears to her eyes.

Papa spoke in a lowered voice. “I’m sorry about Molly. There wasn’t anything we could do to save her.”

Coco sniffled and wiped away tears. “I know.”

“It’s distracted. Now’s our chance to run.” Pulling her along, he ran around the back of the house.

She could barely keep up with him. Her legs and lungs burned, and she was having difficulty breathing.

He groaned. His hand tugged her downwards, pulling her to the ground.

As she lay face down, she felt a stinging pain in her hand and knee. She had scraped them on her way down.

Raising her head, she saw that an arrow had pierced Papa’s leg. Blood leaked from the wound.

“I knew I smelled humans nearby.” The werewolf was walking toward them, a bow its hand.

"Run!” Papa gestured for her to leave. “Don't worry about me!"

Her chest ached at the thought of losing the only parent she had ever known.

Shaking her head and choking back tears, she crawled toward him. "You're the only family I have left. I can't lose you too."

He pushed her away. "Go!"

Biting her lip and clenching her fists, she pushed herself up and ran.

She heard the werewolf’s voice behind her.

“Get off me!”

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Papa clinging onto its leg.

The werewolf was struggling to pull away from him. It withdrew an arrow from its back and stabbed her father.

But Papa didn’t scream. He gritted his teeth and held onto the werewolf.

The werewolf pulled the arrow out, which was now soaked in blood. It stabbed again, and again, and again.

She watched, with wide eyes, as Papa took his last breath. Her vision became blurry with tears. The pain in her chest became unbearable. It was almost too painful to breathe.

She slammed into something solid. The collision knocked her backwards onto the ground, leaving her stunned and sore all over. She screamed.

A huge grey werewolf stood over her. Growling, it glared down at her with its golden eyes. Using its monstrous arms, it raised its bloodied hammer.

***

As Alana flew towards the village, her arms out wide, she couldn’t help but smile. The wind against her skin, the freedom to move in all directions, the feeling of weightlessness - all these factors made flying a liberating and exhilarating experience. Although she had flown many times before in World of Lorecraft, she’d never experienced such joy from the activity.

She saw gray smoke billowing into the sky up ahead. Stopping above the village, she could feel the heat from the raging fires below. The orange and yellow flames were mesmerizing. They seemed almost alive, crackling and curling, flickering this way and that, as they devoured the houses.

What am I doing? Now is not the time to be admiring the fire. I have a task to complete.

She didn’t want to displease Hupo, her creator. Without him, she wouldn’t even exist. She felt very fortunate to have a creator like him. He’d always treated her with respect and kindness.

Scanning the village, she saw that many of the villagers had already been killed. Their butchered bodies were scattered around the village. The survivors were being chased by werewolves. One of them, a girl, appeared to be in imminent danger. A werewolf was about to strike her with a hammer.

Alana pointed at the werewolf. “Glacial Spear."

A large spike of ice materialized in front of her finger. Even though it wasn’t touching her, it was so cold that she could still feel it sapping the warmth from her fingertip.

It flew towards the werewolf, impaling its chest.

The werewolf dropped its hammer and fell backwards. The girl appeared shaken, but she was otherwise unharmed.

Alana let out a huge breath.

That was way too close. If I’d arrived even a second later, she would’ve died.

Alana wanted to save as many villagers as possible, because Hupo was concerned about their wellbeing. Otherwise, she couldn’t have cared less about what happened to them. The only human she cared about was Hupo.

An arrow flew toward her from below. From her perspective, it seemed to be moving slowly. She could have easily dodged it, but she decided to block it instead. By blocking, she could gauge the power of the attack.

“Force Field.” A transparent, spherical barrier of energy formed around her.

She watched, with eyes narrowed, as the arrow crept upwards toward her. Even though it was moving slowly, it might hit hard. At the moment of impact, she stiffened her body.

Her barrier easily deflected the arrow.

I can’t believe I was on guard for such a weak attack. I would’ve been unharmed even if it had hit me directly.

She pointed at the werewolf who had shot the arrow. "Pyroblast."

A hot, swirling ball of fire appeared at the tip of her finger. It shot forth at an incredible speed, blasting the werewolf into dust.

Are all werewolves this weak?

Three cloaked werewolves were gathered below.

They’re dressed differently. Are they stronger than the previous werewolves?

They shot fireballs at her. Compared to the one she’d just shot, their fireballs were tiny.

I was worried for nothing again.

All the fireballs exploded upon contact with her barrier. They didn’t even scratch it.

Once the smoke from the explosion cleared, she cast her next attack spell. "Glacial Winds."

A shrieking wind encircled the group of werewolves. All the fires around them were instantly snuffed out. They frantically glanced around, as if they were searching for a way out. Their movement slowed, before coming to a stop, as they became encased in ice. The wind knocked down the frozen werewolves, shattering them against the floor into countless pieces.

The remaining werewolves in the village glanced at each other, before dropping their weapons and fleeing.

She didn’t pursue them, because her objective was to protect the village, not to kill every last werewolf. If Hupo had told her to slay all of them, then she would have done so without a second thought. Their lives meant nothing her.

With the werewolves gone, she turned her attention to the fires ravaging the village. They posed a significant threat to the surviving villagers.

She pointed her staff upwards. "Heavy Rain."

Dark grey clouds gathered over the village. At first, only a few droplets fell from the sky. Soon, it poured rain, drowning out the fires.

Most of the houses in the village had been burned down. Their roofs had collapsed and their walls had crumbled, leaving nothing but charred and blackened remains.

It continued raining for a full five minutes. Then, the clouds parted, revealing a shining moon and a sky full of stars.

Alana descended to the village without so much as a droplet on her. The [Force Field] had kept her dry. Upon landing, she brushed away ash from her hair and clothes. She wanted to look presentable for Hupo, who might arrive at the village soon.

Will he be pleased with my performance? Knowing him, of course he will. I tried my best. Whenever I’d fail at something, he’d praise me for working hard. I’m so lucky to have such an understanding and benevolent creator.

***

There was no doubt in Coco's mind that the woman descending from the sky was an angel. Her reasoning was simple. No human could fly or control the weather. Even she, a simple village girl, knew that. Those were abilities that she imagined only angels would have.

And the woman's appearance was nothing short of angelic. Her lustrous, flowing hair was a rich shade of gold. She had perfectly smooth skin, lush lashes, emerald-green eyes, and pink lips. Crimson red garments, decorated with glistening gold markings, adorned her hourglass figure. In her hand was a long golden staff.

Coco followed the angel to the village square, where dozens of villagers were kneeling. They too must have realized that their savior was a divine being of immeasurable power. She felt that she should kneel as well, but there was something she needed to confirm first.

The only angel she had ever heard of was her mother, a woman she had never met. According to Papa, her mother went to heaven. When Coco asked him what she was like, he told her that she was an angel. Coco wanted to check if the angel who had saved her village was her mother.

Stopping at the edge of the village square, Coco began to wonder if it was okay for her to even speak with the angel. Did she need to ask the angel for permission before speaking? Would the angel be offended if a mere mortal got too close?

Coco shut her eyes and shook her head. Now was not the time to be indecisive. It was now or never. If she didn’t ask now, she might never get another opportunity. After all, what were her chances of ever seeing another angel?

She took in a huge breath and let out a slow exhale.

Come on, Coco, you can do this!

The first step was the hardest. Then, each subsequent step became easier. As she approached the angel, many thoughts raced through her head.

I hope I don’t screw this up. What if I say something that upsets her? Will she destroy the village? Wait, it’s already destroyed. What if she says yes? I have so many questions I want to ask her.

She heard the village chief's voice behind her.

"Coco, what are you doing?"

She ignored him. Her mother could be standing right in front of her and she wasn’t going to let anyone stop this potential family reunion.

"Are you my mama?" Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited for a response.

This was it. The angel could be the mother she’d been waiting for her whole life.

When the angel shook her head, Coco felt as though someone had splashed cold water on her.

There must be some kind of mistake. Maybe she doesn’t recognize me, because we’ve never met. Yes, that must be it. I just need to prove who I am.

Coco swallowed hard. "Are you sure? My name is Coco and my papa's name is Henry."

"I'm sure."

"Oh." Coco lowered her head and frowned.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

I knew it was a longshot. I should’ve expected this outcome, so why am I crying?

She tried to hold back tears, but they soon flowed readily down her cheeks.

I don’t even have a single parent anymore. Why did they both leave me?

Covering her face with her hands, she started weeping.

"Wherever your mother is, she would want you to be safe and happy."

Rubbing tears away, Coco raised her head. "Really?"

The angel nodded. "That's what all parents want for their children."

Coco’s chest, which had ached a moment ago, felt much lighter. She found solace in knowing that, even though neither of her parents were around anymore, they still loved her.

***

Zaric rubbed his eyes.

Are you kidding? How can a human be so powerful?

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He had expected the village raid to end like the previous ones - with little to no resistance. But instead, he watched as a human mage annihilated the werewolves he had sent into the village. And, unlike other mages he had encountered in the past, she could fly. He had no attacks that could reach her, while she could rain attacks on him from the sky until her mana ran out.

Turning away, he covered his mouth and began pacing back and forth between his two guards.

There must be a way to counter the mage’s flying ability. Every spell has a weakness. But if arrows and fireballs don’t work against her, then what will?

He knew little about the strengths and weaknesses of spells. That’s why he always kept a mage near him.

"Plutarch!"

A cloaked werewolf, carrying a wooden staff, hurried to his side. "Clan Leader?"

"Tell me everything you know about flying spells."

Plutarch gulped. "I don’t know much about them. I’ve only heard of them in legends.”

"Are you able to counter her spells?"

Plutarch shook his head. "I cannot. The spells she used are of an unimaginably high level."

Zaric's wariness of the human mage grew to a whole new level. Even Plutarch, one of the most talented mages in his clan, was terrified of her.

“If we fought her, what do you think our odds of winning are?”

“Zero.”

“What?”

“I mean no disrespect. I’m only giving you my honest opinion. Her magical power is god-like. I doubt that even the werewolf lord would be a match for her.”

Zaric had never imagined that anyone could defeat the werewolf lord, the strongest werewolf alive.

“Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“Allow me explain. I’m fully aware of how powerful the werewolf lord is. He holds that position because he’s the strongest of our race. However, like you, he is a warrior. Up against a flying mage of the highest caliber imaginable, he would be at a severe disadvantage.”

“Are you suggesting that we run?”

“That would the most rational course of action. Fighting her is suicide. We need to return to Ferdania to warn the werewolf lord about her.”

“I would rather die than run from an enemy.”

“But -”

“However, retreating is in our clan’s best interest. The needs of our clan must always come before my own needs.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“The human mage hasn’t noticed us yet, but that could soon change. We’ll leave as soon as -”

Before Zaric could finish speaking, a chill ran down his spine and his fur stood on end. He turned around and saw a masked man in black armor. His instincts were screaming at him to flee from a being who was much smaller than he was.

Does his appearance belie his strength? That must be it. My instincts have never betrayed me.

Zaric imagined various courses of action. If he ran, he would be cut down from behind. If he fought, he would die. The third course of action was the one that gave him the greatest probability of survival - injure the enemy with his trump card and flee with everything he had.

His trump card was an attack that rarely missed. It was a combination of two skills - [Sprint] and [Accelerate Axe]. He planned to use [Sprint] to close the distance between himself and the human and [Accelerate Axe] to enhance the axe swing that followed.

When his two guards charged towards the masked man, Zaric realized his mistake. He had assumed that they also knew how dangerous the man in front of them was. But he was wrong. They probably saw the man as prey, but in reality, they were the prey.

***

The stamina of this body is incredible!

Hupo had been running at full speed for the past fifteen minutes, but he didn’t feel the least bit tired. There was a vast difference in physical ability between his past and current body. He felt pumped and more alive than he’d ever thought possible.

Under the moonlight, the grassland looked like a vast ocean. Its knee-deep grass swayed with the wind and rustled with every step he took.

Up ahead, he saw four werewolves. The largest one was clad in full-plate armor. It held an axe in one hand and a tower shield in the other. There were three other werewolves around it. One of them wore a cloak and the other two wore chainmail.

He had hoped to resolve the issue diplomatically, but before he could utter a word, the two werewolves in chainmail charged at him. The harsh rush of their breaths, the crunching of grass beneath their feet, and the scraping of metal against metal as they unsheathed their swords – he could hear every noise they made with crystal clarity and make sense of them without conscious effort.

As they drew near, he felt a slight chill. Although this was the first time he had experienced the sensation, he instinctively understood its meaning - he was sensing killing intent from the werewolves.

The next moments seemed to unfold in slow-motion, as if time itself had slowed down. The two werewolves appeared to move much more slowly. Despite knowing that they were closing in on him, with the intent to kill, he felt perfectly calm. Somehow, he knew exactly how to deal with the threat.

Taking slow and easy breaths, he stepped forward, unsheathed his katana, and slashed them. It was a perfectly and beautifully executed slash. The graceful movement felt completely natural to him, as if he had been practicing it his whole life. He felt almost no resistance against his blade.

For a second, the two werewolves he’d just cut appeared frozen in place, like statues. Then, they sprayed copious amounts of blood from their wounds and collapsed. Some of the blood splattered onto his armor, dyeing parts of it red.

“Fireball!” The cloaked werewolf shot a fist-sized fireball from its hand, toward Hupo.

The fireball appeared to move in slow motion. A tail of flames gradually emerged behind it, as it flew through the air.

What would be the most efficient way to deal with the attack? He wouldn’t be harmed by such a weak spell, so there was no need to dodge or block it. After considering all of his options, he decided to counterattack.

He raised his katana. “Wind Cutter!"

By swinging it downwards with incredible speed, he created a wave of pressure that split the fireball in half. As the two halves of the fireball flew harmlessly past him, the cloaked werewolf was also split in half.

The last remaining werewolf charged towards Hupo. Moving much faster than the other werewolves, it kicked up grass and dirt with every step.

When it swung its axe at Hupo, he leapt into the air to evade the attack. He couldn’t believe how light his body felt.

With a thunderous noise, the axe slammed into the ground. Dirt exploded upwards, spraying Hupo as he descended.

Hupo landed on the back of the axe head, which was planted in the ground.

The werewolf tugged at the axe, but it wouldn’t budge.

As the werewolf struggled to free the axe, Hupo leaned forward and slashed.

The werewolf dodged by letting go of the axe's handle and flipping backwards.

With the size of a bodybuilder and the agility of a gymnast, it’s incomparably more powerful than the other werewolves.

When it landed, it thrust its leg at Hupo.

Hupo jumped backwards. He felt a blast of air from the kick.

The werewolf grabbed the axe and lunged at Hupo.

Even as it loomed over him, his heartbeat remained steady and calm. There was no tension in his body. At that moment, he realized that his mind had changed. Rather than take a step backwards, as his old self would have done, he took a step forward and slashed. His blade cut across the werewolf’s forehead.

Crying in pain, the werewolf staggered backwards.

Hupo took another step forward and thrust his katana.

Despite interposing its wall-like shield in the path of the thrust, the werewolf was unable to block the attack. The katana penetrated its shield and impaled its chest.

In a single, smooth motion, Hupo pulled back his katana, flicked blood off its blade, and sheathed it.

The werewolf gushed blood from its mouth. “Are you even human?”

It collapsed onto its knees, before falling flat on its face.

***

Hupo gazed at the body that lay before him.

What have I done?

The question weighed heavily on his mind. During the battle, he had been completely focused on defeating his enemies. It had started so suddenly and ended so quickly that he hadn’t had time to think about anything else. It was only after he’d killed them, that he began to realize the consequences of his actions.

The werewolves appeared too real to be computer-generated simulations. If his theory was correct, then he was no longer in a game and the lives he took were real. That would explain why he felt such a strong emotional response. In World of Lorecraft, he slew innumerable opponents. However, he felt little after each kill, because he knew they weren’t real.

He had thought that the werewolves, whom he had obliterated from existence with his own hands, were nothing more than monsters. However, after hearing one of them speak, he saw them in an entirely different light - they seemed much more ‘human.’ By killing the werewolves, he had affected the lives of everyone who shared a connection with them. He wondered if they had little children or a worried wife waiting for them to return home.

The werewolf’s final words replayed in his mind. He didn’t understand why the werewolf had questioned his humanity. Was it because he slaughtered its comrades without blinking an eye? Or was it because he was strong compared to other humans of this world? He soon realized that he’d never know the true meaning behind those words. The only one who did was dead.

Wait a minute – how was I able to understand what the werewolf was saying?

He had been able to understand the werewolf’s language, despite hearing it for the first time.

The sound of heavy breathing and rustling grass caught his attention. Turning toward the noise, he saw half a dozen werewolves headed in his direction. He was surprised to hear them at all, considering how far they were from him. They looked tiny from where he was standing. Behind them was a village.

If they were as weak as the werewolves he’d just defeated, then they would have been no match for Alana. They appeared to be unarmed and didn’t radiate any killing intent. Based on these observations, he concluded that they were fleeing from her.

They didn’t pose a threat to him, even if they all attacked him at the same time. He doubted that they would, given that they appeared to have lost all will to fight. However, if they did, he was ready to respond in kind.

He ran toward the village, straight into the incoming pack of werewolves.

As expected, they ignored him, passing him by without slowing down.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Not wanting to take any more lives, he preferred not to fight them.

He made his way through wet grass, before stamping into the soft mud around the village. The smell of smoke hung in the air. Nearly all the houses were reduced to smoldering ruins. He was careful not to step on the multitude of bodies littering the ground, as he moved through village.

He found Alana surrounded by dozens of prostrated villagers. They looked as though they were praying to a god.

He walked to her side. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I am. The werewolves were surprisingly weak. How about you?"

"I'm fine. You did a great job. Without your help, all the villagers would’ve perished.”

Alana smiled. “I always try my best.”

“I know. Why are the villagers bowing?”

"I'm not sure. They started acting this way after I drove away the werewolves."

"I see..."

They wouldn’t be bowing just because she’d saved them. Considering how weak the werewolves were, relative to Alana and himself, her power must have seemed god-like in comparison.

He turned to face the villagers. "Everyone, please rise."

He instinctively knew what language the villagers spoke. The words that came out of his mouth were in a language that he hadn’t heard of before. Yet he knew how to speak it as well as his native language, as if it had been imprinted into his mind.

The villagers slowly raised their heads, but continued kneeling.

"I'm Hupo, and this is Alana. We’re travelers from a distant land. We saw werewolves attacking your village, so we rushed over to help."

A middle-aged man stood and approached Hupo. As he did so, the other villagers rose, one after another. The man’s tanned skin and thick arms suggested that he had lived a life of hard labor under the sun.

"I'm Erwin, the village chief. On behalf of all the villagers here, I thank you two from the bottom of my heart. If not for your aid, we would all surely be dead. Please let us know if there is anything we can do to repay your kindness."

Hupo glanced at Alana before replying. "There is one thing. We're looking for a place to stay."

A big smile spread over Erwin's face. "Of course! That's the least we can do for our saviors!"

Many of the villagers behind him smiled and nodded in agreement.

A teenage girl in the crowd raise her hand. "They can stay at my home! It's still intact."

Erwin turned toward her. "Coco, where is your father?"

She lowered her head. "He didn't make it."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Since that's the case, then you can open up your home to whoever you want."

***

More than half the villagers had perished during the werewolf attack. Hupo spent much of the next day helping the survivors bury the dead, at a cemetery not far from the village. There was no fencing enclosing the cemetery. Wooden sticks, engraved with the name of the deceased, were used as grave markers.

Every body he laid to rest reminded him that he was no longer in World of Lorecraft. If he had still been in the game, the bodies would have vanished after a short period of time.

After all the bodies were in the ground, a funeral service was held. It was a warm, sunny day, with blooming flowers and chirping birds. Erwin gave a speech to all the villagers gathered in the cemetery. He started by expressing his condolences. Then he celebrated the lives of the deceased, focusing on the positive memories. His tribute brought many of the mourners to tears. Coco looked particularly distraught, sobbing and shaking her head.

Before Hupo knew it, tears were flowing down his face. He looked on, with bitterness in his heart. Memories of his mother’s funeral flooded back to him. It had been very different than the one he was witnessing now. There had been no large gathering of people or fancy speeches –only him and the freezing rain. He had never felt so alone in the world as he had back then. Her death had left him alone in a cruel and ruthless world - a world that took a single mother and worked her to death.

Before the funeral was over, Hupo made his way back to the village. Alana followed closely behind.

He walked in silence, along a dirt road. On each side was a golden field of wheat, waving in the wind. Annoyed by the rattling grasshoppers, he moved at a faster pace.

“Can you slow down? I’m having trouble keeping up.”

He stopped and turned around. “Sorry, Alana. I should’ve been more considerate.”

“You seem to have something on your mind. Do you want to talk about it?”

If it had been anyone else, he would have replied “It’s nothing.” But this was Alana – the only one he’d ever truly opened his heart to. When he’d had something troubling on his mind, he’d talk to Alana about it. She was more than an assistant to him - she was also a friend. Although she was an artificial intelligence, he felt a closer connection with her than he did with other people. He told her things about himself that he wouldn’t tell others, such as the contents of his dreams. Discussing his dreams with her gave him a sense of release. He didn’t tell anyone else about them, because he feared other people would think he was crazy.

In a way, talking to Alana was better than talking to other people. She would never judge or betray him. With military-grade cyber security installed in his home, he wasn’t overly concerned about hackers compromising her. The upfront costs and upkeep of such a high level of cyber security were enormous. However, to him, the expense had been merely a drop in the ocean.

“I want to let go of the past, but it keeps coming back to haunt me.”

“The funeral reminded you of your mother?”

Her ability to draw inferences, based on limited information, never ceased to amaze him. He’d rarely spoken to her about his mother, yet she was able to discover the hidden meaning behind his words.

“It did.”

“Are you still mad at her?”

“I must be the most selfish person in the world, mustn’t I? How can I be upset with her, after everything she’d done for me? She made sure I had enough to eat when I returned home from school. She patched up holes in my clothes to keep me warm during the winter.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “But at what cost? Her life? How could she just leave me so suddenly and so alone?”

“It’s okay to be angry. Don’t try to repress your feelings. Denying them will only make them more confusing and overwhelming. Instead, allow yourself to feel whatever you may be feeling. You won’t feel whole again unless you embrace your grief. Though your mother is no longer physically with you, she lives on in your memories. Treasure, rather than fear, those memories.”

Hupo turned away. “Those are well-spoken words. I’ll take them to heart.”

His voice was choked with tears. Taking a step forward, he lost his balance and fell onto his hands and knees.

“Hupo!” She knelt next to him.

His whole body trembled. “Why won’t the tears the stop flowing…”

She embraced him. “Just let it be. It’s okay to cry.”

He broke down and sobbed. It was like a dam had broken open. A flood of emotions came rushing forth, out into the open.