The boy slowly turned around. Sunlight pierced the dust and fell on the face Teth-Adam had not forgotten in the slightest, even through five thousand years of slumber.
His bright, clear eyes curved into crescents, and his lips held the warmest smile in Teth-Adam's memory.
The boy looked at the man before him and spoke softly.
"Father, it's been so long."
Boom!
That single word, "Father," utterly shattered the last line of defense in Teth-Adam's heart.
The majesty of a god, the guardian of Kahndaq-all of it vanished in that instant.
He was like a traveler lost in an endless blizzard for thousands of years who had finally glimpsed the one campfire that belonged to him.
Teth-Adam took two steps forward and slowly pulled that thin figure into his broad chest.
His massive arms trembled slightly from the sheer force of his embrace, as though the slightest loosening would make this dream, lost and regained, burst like a bubble.
"My child... my child..."
This god of destruction, who could withstand a missile bombardment without so much as a frown, now buried his face deep against the boy's back and sobbed uncontrollably.
Scalding tears slid down his resolute cheeks, dripping onto the boy's flax-colored robe.
He repeated himself over and over, his voice so hoarse it almost broke:
"I missed you so much... I really missed you so much..."
Hutru reached out with both hands and gently returned the embrace around his father's rock-hard back. Feeling that pounding heartbeat, he said with a smile:
"I missed you too, Father. The weather in hell was terrible. There was glaring red everywhere, and even the wind was scorching. It couldn't compare to the sunshine in our Kahndaq at all."
At the word "hell," Teth-Adam's heart gave a violent spasm.
He abruptly raised his