"...Boss, your order?" asked Inghild through his mic.

Jeremy, Beatrice, and the other ten members of their group still had their aim on the numerous crimson blades. It didn't move either as if waiting for someone to fire.

Meanwhile, three other members were treating the wounded, bandaging them with clean clothes as sweat beaded their foreheads profusely. They dithered every dozen seconds, unsure of whether they should help fight the little girl and her blades or keep protecting their incapacitated comrade-in-arms—and as the clock ticked, they realized there wasn't any time left.

"Boss, hey, why are you being quiet? We need your orders. Do we keep firing at that thing or wha—"

"The Boss is somewhat... speechless," explained a rough, female voice at the other end of Beatrice's mic.

"Oh, Jessica? But we need his orders. Are our mics still connected to him? Damn that Nikola for stirring that monster into action."

"S-She's not a monster," refuted Hope.

When Beatrice narrowed her eyes at him, he cast his gaze downward and then lowered his head.

"I was referring to the swords sticking out of her back, Hope. Doesn't look like the girl has any control of it..."

"But you did fire your rifle at her just a few minutes ago. That means you see her as a threat too, isn't it?" said Jeremy.

"That was..."

Beatrice bit her lip. She wanted to explain herself, but the sight of gleaming red swords dangling in front of her desisted her thoughts before she was able to voice it out.

"The Boss's back," said Jessica.

The members of this armed group focused on their mics, anticipating what their Boss's order would be.

"...I should have expected it. That she would make it happen sooner or later, but how would I know that this is what she's capable of...? But more importantly, how do I explain this to Bart?" whispered an old man at the other end of Beatrice's mic.

"...Expected what, Boss?" prompted Beatrice.

"Beatrice, cease fire at once. Tsk, I should have done this sooner," said the old man.

"B-Boss?"

"Everyone, ceasefire!" the old man raised his voice.

"Huh?"

"O-Okay." Without putting much thought into the Boss's order, the soldiers acquiesced.

"Move out and assist the Second Squad in taking down the remaining enemies secluding themselves in that tower. There should be about less than ten left, so that's why we don't see them out here in the open. Gawain, Arisa, Aerin, stay put and keep treating the injured. Medics are on their way."

"Then... how about the girl?" asked Jeremy.

"What did I just said, Jeremy? A ceasefire, isn't it? That means don't engage her by all means. Put down your weapon and follow the Second Squad. Now!"

"...Yes, Sir."

"The Boss's pissed," whispered another member of the group, standing beside Jeremy. "Anyhow, Nikola died because of the kid. What are you gonna do about it, Boss?"

"..."

"Hope, stay with Ava. Inghild, you stay too," said the old man.

"M-Me?" said Hope as he pointed at himself.

"The rest will assist the Second Squad. They're advancing into the tower. Move. Now!"

"Y-Yes, Boss!"

One by one, those who were still standing jogged away from the scene with their assault rifles, leaving Hope, the nonplussed Inghild, and those who were treating the injured at the scene.

"W-What's happening..."

Hope shook his head and stared at the little girl once more.

Her blades had stopped moving, somewhat in sync with how the ones that pose a threat to its host were retreating. As if assured of the girl's safety, her penances—the red blades—dissolved into thin air gradually.

"...What are you?" asked Hope, sweat trickled down his forehead as he kept a distance away from the little girl.

"Hic..." Tears filled the girl's eyes and Hope jerked his head.

"Eeek! Ah, she's about to cry again."

Hope took a few steps back and flailed his hands before an order came from his mic.

"Speaking to Hope and Inghild... From now on, until you two get Ava back to the base, don't raise your firearms at her and don't do anything that will make her run away. I repeat, don't raise your firearms at her and don't do anything that will make her run away."

"I-I understand, Boss," said Hope.

"...Ava? Take her to the base? What is... Do you know something that we don't, Boss?" asked Inghild through his mic.

"Set the mic to speaker mode and put it near her. Tsk, the moment I saw her, I should have done this rather than floundering so stupidly," ordered the old man.

"Shouldn't we get an explanation first?" demanded Inghild.

"Put the mic near her and then, I will explain."

"...Understood."

Inghild complied obediently and placed his mic on the ground, much to Ava's dubiety of his action.

"Ava," spoke the old man through Inghild's mic.

"...Grandpa?"

Ava's red eyes glinted and in the next moment, she crawled towards the mic. Hope and Inghild took a few steps back as they watched her.

"I am very sorry for what had happened to you, Ava. I was late, and now that it has come to this... let's head back home."

"...Home?"

"At my place. But not that house far up the hill. Inghild, Hope, bring her to the truck and take good care of her. Please."

"Understood, Sir," replied Inghild and Hope.

"Ava, these two are Grandpa's friends. They will take you to my safe place. Come with them," said the old man.

"..."

"There's a truck out there. Don't worry, they are... good people."

Hope and Inghild nodded and smiled at Ava, but she didn't move. Flashes of dead soldiers entered her mind and the girl shook her head with teary eyes, her teeth trembled.

Inghild reached a hand towards Ava. Before he could get near her, she distanced herself from him. Her dainty hands pulled at a huge chunk of cemented wall and wrapped her arms around it, her body shivered as she stared at Inghild.

"...I'm not going to hurt you," said Inghild softly.

He tried to reach for Ava's arm. The little girl shook her head apace and when his right hand was just in front of her face, she opened her mouth and bit.

"Tc—Ow!"

Inghild pulled his hand away and glowered at Ava. She shuddered and huddled up close to the chunk of cement.

"F-Forgive me for saying this, Inghild, but you're making this harder," said Hope.

"You do it then!"

Hope trembled when Inghild raised his voice at him, but even so, with a shaky will, he approached Ava and kneeled on one knee. His eyes met hers, and they both stared at each other.

Ava still was putting up her guard, afraid of those standing in front of her and more so towards the fact that she had hurt and killed people. Her young mind was unstable.

"...I see," mumbled Hope.

Hope was like her before, so looking at Ava reminded him of the former shell of himself ruefully.

As such, memories from a year ago slipped into his mind.

In a common, bustling city, Hope was attending classes like a normal kid his age would. He had kind and caring parents, a twin brother, and friends who never abstained from talking and helping him out. Hope had a perfectly normal life and he wished it didn't change, ever.

Until one day, Hope was consigned into a grim scenario.

"Ugh..." He carefully slid his classroom's door open while carrying a few textbooks with one hand.

"Hope, you're still at school? Everyone has left already."

A bespectacled teacher in a blue long-sleeved shirt and a dark formal vest stated this as Hope entered the class.

Lying down on the floor a few meters in front of the teacher was a little girl—someone Hope knew from the science class the same male teacher was assigned to teach.

The little girl had her eyes opened wide, the black lace of her white blouse dropped down from the teacher's gloved hand as Hope stared at the scene dyed in sunset orange. Deep red slit in the girl's neck caught Hope's attention, and his textbooks dropped to the floor.

"Sir Brodwig...?" mumbled Hope.

Brodwig had a small knife in his gloved hand, blood dripping to the floor from its metal edge.

"...Ah, on another note, your timing is great, Hope. Yes, yes. I think I can make do with you being here."

Brodwig walked up to Hope and grabbed his head with one hand. In the next moment, he slammed it against a wooden table and forced a tube in his mouth. As the teacher repeatedly pressed an inflatable cuff at the other end of the tube, Hope's vision gradually darkened.

By the time he woke up, Hope was lying down with the bloodied knife in his right hand and the little girl beside him, a deep red horizontal slit still on her neck. It didn't take even ten seconds for another student to stumble upon the horrible sight since the classroom's door was opened wide.

That was the day Hope's life changed for the worse.

Even after a year, the boy still harbored unbridled hatred towards the teacher.

"...Ava, isn't it?" said Hope.

As he stared at the frightened little girl in front of him, Hope clenched his fists.

"It's gonna be alright."

Hope reached out towards Ava and pulled her into an embrace. She cried, pushed him and kicked, but even so, Hope held on, not wanting to let go.

"D-Don't worry, I'm on your side. Y-You can trust me," said Hope as Ava slammed her fists onto his head.

"Hey, Hope... You better step back before that thing comes out of her again," advised Inghild behind him.

"It's fine! She's just scared. Like I was back then. She needs someone to trust and believe in her."

Inghild scratched his head and sighed. He dropped to one knee and spoke to Ava.

"Listen, we will protect you no matter what. Believe me. Nothing bad will happen to you again."

"You are safe now. A-As long as I'm here, I will make sure the bad guys will not harm you ever again. So... So you can let it all out. Cry all you want, release your pent-up anger. Don't be afraid," said Hope.

Ava opened her mouth and bit at Hope's left shoulder, and he yelped. Despite this, he kept holding onto her.

"That hurt—Ah, no, what I'm trying to say is you need to believe in us, Ava. We will not harm you!" Hope never ceased to be as couthy and amicable as he could to the little girl.

"You want to see your Grandpa, right?" said Inghild. "We'll take you to him."

Inghild's offer was not the least bit tempting to Ava. She bit into Hope's shoulder as hard as she could and Hope gritted his teeth. The poor boy was about at his limit in enduring the pain, but in the end, he put all he had into the last resort to calm Ava down.

"A-Ava! Nothing bad will ever happen to you again as long as we're here! If there's something bothering you, we will listen. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Our place has all sorts of food and drinks and you can choose which one you want. A-And... don't you want to see your parents? Your Daddy, your Mommy? They must be waiting for you out there, right?"

Ava's pupils dilated and slowly, she pulled her teeth away from Hope's shoulder. The boy hissed at the throbbing pain, but then he shook his head and continued to encourage Ava.

"...Daddy?" Ava looked at Hope in the eyes. An image of her dad replaced Hope, and her eyes opened wide.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" muttered Ava incessantly as she hugged Hope tightly.

"Huuh?"

Hope's jaw dropped and he looked at Inghild.

"This should be good enough. Bring her inside the truck before that thing from before comes out of her again," said Inghild.

"H-How!?" shouted Hope.

"Just carry her in your arms, kid!"

Hope blinked a few times before he looked back at Ava. She had closed her eyes, her body heaved and dropped ever so slightly as she rested her head against Hope.

"...She fell asleep?"

Hope and Inghild nodded at each other, and very slowly, albeit too carefully, the blonde boy carried Ava in his arms.

"Ugh... Heavy."