Finale: The truth (II)

"Norman, Norman, where are you? Cough cough..." A woman's weak voice came from the hospital bed, while the doctors in white coats surrounding the bed coldly watched the woman slowly fall into the abyss.

Suddenly, the cry of a baby rang out. Pei Xi, whose eyes had been somewhat glazed, snapped back to reality. Ignoring her chapped lips, she frantically turned her head, crying, "My child! My child! Where is he? My child!"

A figure carrying a child walked to the bedside. Upon seeing the pink and tender baby, Pei Xi's panic disappeared, and a mother's tenderness blossomed on her face. She tremblingly reached out her fingers to touch the tender little face, feeling the warmth between her fingers, and Pei Xi's eyes gradually welled up with tears.

"Ebson, Norman, has he arrived?" Pei Xi looked hopefully at the figure holding the baby.

Dressed in a suit, Ebson's face was gloomy, but looking at Pei Xi, whose voice was growing weaker and weaker, he remained silent for a moment before softly replying, "Norman, he'll be there soon. He's been waiting for you."

A final smile appeared on his pale face. "I... I understand, Norman. You must also be looking forward to... seeing... Little Asia..."

The faint sound disappeared, and Ebson left with the child. The wails and anger of the man outside the operating room could still be faintly heard.

Without a physical body, Yago silently watched all of this, watching his mother stop breathing. Even without a body, immense sorrow still surrounded Yago, a pain beyond words.

"Where is that bastard Norman?! That son of a bitch! How could he do this to my Younger Sister! Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!"

In the dimly lit room, Ebson stood by the window, the chilly night wind brushing his face. He stared grimly at the baby in his arms. With the slightest loosening of his grip, this fragile little life would shatter in the blink of an eye. But why couldn't he bring himself to let go? Why?

Ebson struggled with this dilemma for a long time, but the child's voice grew louder and louder, and his health seemed to improve as well.

Soon, a flash of blood crossed Ebson's eyes. On a cold night, he handed the simply wrapped child over to Bill to handle. This man, who had just lost his Younger Sister, quickly became a decadent tool under Ebson's command.

In the dimly Alley, a short figure struggled to push a huge cart piled high with various glass bottles, scraps of paper, and pieces of wood. The old man with a white beard was panting heavily as he pushed the junk he had painstakingly collected in the cold wind. The brown multi-pointed star epaulets on his shoulders were dirty and worn.

An elderly man passing through the Alley suddenly heard a baby crying. For a moment, he thought it was just tinnitus, but the baby's cries grew clearer and louder in the cold wind. The old man quickly dropped his cart and ran into the Alley.

Inside a tattered cardboard box, a tiny, thin body, wrapped only in a dirty rag, lay crying, its face blue with cold. An elderly woman, who had lived a lonely life, frantically cradled the child in her arms, lamenting, "What a terrible thing! What heartless parents could leave such a small baby here? The child will freeze to death!"

Perhaps out of concern for the child in her arms, the old woman abandoned her cart and the fruits of her laborious day's work, and carried the child straight back to her hut through the biting cold wind.

In front of the crackling stove, the old man carefully fed the child a small bottle of milk. The sweet aroma of the milk lingered in his nose. After the baby had finished eating, he smacked his lips and fell fast asleep.

Seeing the child sleeping so adorably, the old man couldn't help but smile.

And so, an elderly, widowed scavenger in the Liberio Internment Zone gained another child.

One day, the old man put on his tattered reading glasses, which he had picked up sometime during the day, and struggled to make out something on a newspaper of unknown date. He was thinking that he should name his child, but how many words could an old scavenger possibly recognize?

An elderly man sat on a wooden chair in the winter sun, his furry expression showing some confusion.

Yago floated to the old man's side, gazing at the kind face that was now somewhat blurred in his memory. If Yago had a physical form, he really wanted to hug his grandfather again, even though he knew it might just be a projection of the past. Yet, Yago couldn't help but whisper in the old man's ear, "Grandpa..."

Suddenly, the old man in the sunlight paused, as if remembering something. His somewhat cloudy eyes looked at the newspaper again, no longer hesitant. "I've got it! Ya, Ya, Go! Let's call Yago. It sounds like a name full of hope."

And so, the child the old man took in was given a name.

Having lost his physical form, Yago watched as his former self grew up and as his grandfather aged day by day.

On a summer night, the old man, nearing the end of his life, touched six-year-old Yago's hair one last time with his withered hand, and then closed his eyes forever amidst little Yago's cries.

Having lost his grandfather Yago also lost his protectors. With the help of his fellow Eldians nearby, his grandfather was barely given a proper burial, but the thugs who had been eyeing the area easily drove away the lone Yago.

The harsh reality and the life of homelessness made this child, who was only a few years old, mature rapidly, and he even learned to... steal.

Beside a trash can in the Alley, a thin boy was complaining about how awful the bread in his hand was, completely unaware that someone was watching him.

After finishing the unpalatable bread, little Yago wandered aimlessly along the road. As he rounded a corner, the sound of laughter caught his attention.

"Leonhardt? That's laughable. You don't look a thing of that cowardly father. You must be some adopted bastard from who-knows-where, hahaha."

The formless Yago watched as Little Yago rushed out. "Hey! Gray, what kind of skill is it to bully girls? It's hilarious!" The sudden voice not only attracted the attention of several teenagers, but even the Blonde little girl who had been keeping her head down looked up. It seemed that in that instant, Little Yago's dark eyes met the little girl's light blue eyes, a glance that seemed to be Fate!

"Annie..." Yago, who was floating, saw the familiar scene appear before him, but this time, he was watching it all as an observer.

Yago watched as little Yago and Annie met for the first time, spoke for the first time, and the first time the girl saved the hero...

Everything was exactly the same as before, Yago could only watch. He tried to struggle, when his father was murdered, when his mother died, and when his grandfather passed away, but he could do nothing. He seemed to always be a futile bystander.