"So... that's how it was!"
After his initial turmoil, Hamura's aged soul body seemed to lose every last shred of strength holding it up. He slumped to the ground, sitting cross-legged.
Through the seal, he stared blankly at the enormous figure of his mother at its center. Her head remained lowered, and she said nothing, as though cut off from the world.
"Heh... heh heh..."
A low, dry laugh, filled with endless bitterness and self-mockery, escaped Hamura's lips. It echoed through the silent Sealing Space, painfully harsh and desolate.
"So the beginning of all this... this tragedy of misunderstanding, sacrifice, and vigilance that lasted a thousand years...
was nothing more than... a failure to communicate!"
He repeated those words twice, his voice filled with disbelief at their absurdity.
"Honestly... why, Mother?"
Hamura's voice suddenly rose. Emotions suppressed for a thousand years finally erupted.
"Why didn't you trust my brother and me?
Why would you rather choose that lonely, cruel path, pushing everyone away, than tell us the truth and let us face it with you?"
"Weren't we... your family?"
He roared the last sentence. His soul body fluctuated violently, revealing the utter turmoil within him.
It was precisely because she was his mother that he found it so hard to restrain himself.
Because his mother had not trusted him or his brother.
He felt lost. A thousand years of steadfast vigilance seemed to have become one enormous joke.
He was in agony over those pointless sacrifices, over the rupture between mother and sons that could have been avoided.
He was beside himself. The truth was so simple, yet it so cruelly overturned everything he had believed and every effort he had made.
Hamura and those of his descendants who had chosen to remain on the moon and guard their mother's