A breeze swept over the pitch-black coastline. Along the shore, thick with black oil, countless fish worked their gills in the slick, while grime-covered seagulls let out long, mournful cries.
Lynn's pupils dilated.
He still remembered that scene. It had been years earlier in her memories, after she followed the pipe and finally escaped that underground factory where daylight never reached.
She fell into the pollution.
She staggered, slowly dragging herself up from the oil-covered shore, from among the countless dead fish and seagulls, and gazed out at the world with clouded, empty eyes.
The waves churned and roared.
She clutched her Cloth Doll tightly.
Like a fish desperately struggling out of the sea, refusing to die, she crawled in bewilderment from that dark ocean onto this sunlit continent.
"What you've been through far exceeds what anyone your age could bear. That chemical pollution could leave a healthy adult bedridden and dying within days. You climbed aboard that ship, but the food and water you brought fell far short of the bare minimum you needed to survive. Your weakened body and the infection in the scars on your face alone would have been enough to kill any adult through various complications within hours."
"People from the Old Continent struggle to adapt to the New Continent's climate. Vast numbers of wanderers died during the hardships of their journey south, and there were even numerous outbreaks of plague during that period. Yet you, a child only a few years old, somehow crossed half a continent and reached the south of the New Continent."
"It wasn't a dud. The investigation clearly established that the third bullet had been fired. A casing and your blood were also found on the ground."
"After spending these past several years investigating everything you went through, even