Children symbolized hope. They were the continuation of life, beings who needed protection.
But in the Lower Hive, these children never had enough to eat. Their only toys were ash and mud—and they were already the luckiest children in the Lower Hive.
Surrounded and welcomed by the children, Annan realized he still had to face a cruel reality: the Lower Hive still existed.
The girl who served as "king" took Annan's hand and said "Mother" wanted to see him.
Annan went to the Meteorite crater and approached the bones that had always sheltered the children.
Unlike last time's stillness, this time Annan sensed a faint stirring:
"My power is fading."
"Are you 'Mother'?" Annan wasted no time. "How can I help you?"
"You can't help me... This world is like an ocean to me..."
"There must be a way."
Mr. Swaro, the Old Ancestor... If "Mother" could maintain her consciousness through a single piece of bone, perhaps she had a chance to recover.
But "Mother's" presence was growing weaker. It seemed she had held on only to see Annan one last time.
"Do not come to our world..."
Her final whisper lingered in his ears. The bones deep in the crater suddenly turned to ash, scattered by an unseen wind to become part of the Ash Layer.
Dust to dust, earth to earth.
The "king" stood strong beside Annan, holding his hand without crying.
"Mother said you'd take care of us, right?"
"Yes. You'll go back to the surface, where you can play in the sunshine and go to school."
"What's school?"
"It's how you can grow up to become Knights, Professionals, Merchants, or Guards."
"What if I want to be king?"
"It's not impossible... But you'd have to start wars, kill many people, and leave many children without homes..."