Seeing the questioning looks from the two, Rita simply smiled at them. "You feel it too, don't you?"
"Will children without their elders be bullied? When they're wronged, who can they turn to? Who will teach them how to live their daily lives?"
As she spoke, Rita's gaze shifted toward the truck.
"And in the MOTH, there are many, many children like that..."
There were indeed many such children. In this shelter alone, those middle schoolers were perfect examples of what Rita was talking about.
Vaguely, the woman began to understand what Rita was trying to say to her.
"How about we make a transaction?" Rita, who had been speaking pensively, suddenly changed her tone, a gentle smile returning to her face.
"What transaction...?" Durandal asked on the woman's behalf.
"A transaction with the parents whose children have already passed on." Rita looked down at the child in the woman's arms and said with a smile, "You can take care of their children here. The MOTH is short on manpower, but we will provide the necessary supplies.
"You can take care of their children in their parents' stead, and in the other world, those parents will honor their agreement with you, and based on your actions, they will help you take care of your child."
Durandal's eyes lit up, and she quickly turned to the woman. "That's right! That way, every child can be cared for, right? Those children, and your child too!
"And with so many moms and dads taking care of her together, your child will surely be very happy!"
Rita smiled and nodded at Durandal, a hint of gratification in her eyes.
The woman didn't react much to Rita's words, but when Durandal said, "will surely be very happy!" she was moved.
She wanted to see her child happy... If this could truly bring her happiness...
If that other world really existed, then doing this... maybe it could really work?
As long as she worked a little harder here, her child over there could have more happiness. Such a transaction... seemed pretty good?
The woman didn't agree immediately. She lowered her head deeply, her hands involuntarily tightening around her child.
"Can... you leave me alone with my child for a little while?" the woman asked in a small voice.
Rita and Durandal exchanged a look. Durandal wanted to say more, but a glance from Rita stopped her. Out of a deep-seated trust, Durandal stood up and followed Rita away without a word.
After they had walked some distance, Durandal finally asked in a low voice, "Rita, we were so close to convincing her. We just needed one more push. Why..."
"Lady Durandal." Rita turned around, her expression more solemn than Durandal had ever seen. "There's no need to add anything more. What's needed now isn't our persuasion, but the mother's own choice."
"To choose..." Rita paused before continuing, "whether to believe in the existence of another world, and whether she is willing to believe that the people of that other world will accept her transaction."
"We have no ability to communicate with the dead. Ultimately, this is all just a comfort we seek for ourselves. We invent an ethereal truth for others to believe in, and for ourselves to believe in."
"We all know what's fake, what's a lie we tell ourselves. We can only weave such a lie. Whether one is willing to lose themselves in the beautiful dream woven by that lie is a choice only they can make."
This was probably the longest speech Rita had ever given Durandal. Durandal closed her mouth. She had been somewhat confused before, but once Rita explained the intricacies, Durandal immediately understood what she meant.
Only those who are willing to be deceived will accept a lie.
"Now, all we can do is wait for the mother's choice..." They both looked toward the hidden corner, their gazes seemingly penetrating the wall and falling upon the mother, who was whispering to the child in her arms.
---||---
The two of them quickly went through the inspection and boarded the truck with the other evacuees, sitting in their designated spots.
Since the only available seating was in the truck's cargo bed, they sat together with the survivors.
Seeing the two of them arrive, the once noisy compartment instantly fell silent. Everyone looked at them with a mixture of admiration, surprise, and two pairs of fearful eyes mixed in.
The momentary silence made Durandal a little uncomfortable. She still wasn't used to being the center of attention, but it was much better than before.
The man in the suit sitting at the edge of the compartment seemed a bit dazed when he saw them. Rita keenly caught the fleeting shadow of disappointment in his eyes.
Rita had overheard most of the conversation between the man and the mother. To be honest, she was a little surprised by the man's choice.
Surprised that even in this situation, the man was willing to come forward and try to help the woman, even though his anxiety for the future meant he wasn't much help at all.
But as the saying goes, what's truly precious isn't just the strength to help, but the heart that is willing to lend a hand.
Rita still remembered the message the woman wanted Durandal to deliver to the man. If... things really didn't take a turn for the better, then Rita would deliver that message on her behalf.
Time passed, second by second. Apart from a few occasional survivors who were found and brought onto the truck, no one else appeared. Soon, the driver announced that they were about to depart.
Durandal clenched her fists and lowered her head. She knew that even if she went out now, it would be useless. She just felt a sense of powerlessness.
If she were strong, like the Captain Shu everyone talked about... no, if she just had a tenth of his strength, maybe she could have arrived a few days earlier.
Then, she wouldn't have had to face this tragedy. Everyone could have gotten on the truck happily together. Everyone would have gathered around that mother, praising her child...
No one would be missing...
Durandal looked at her fist. The force she was exerting on it made her entire arm tremble slightly.
But she didn't feel any stronger. The fatigue that quickly set in seemed to be telling her—you can't do anything.
That's right... a person like me can't do anything. I have to get stronger... strong enough to stand on my own, strong enough to reverse the things I don't want to see...
Strong enough to...
"Please wait!"
A somewhat familiar voice, filled with exhaustion yet bright as a newborn sun, suddenly reached everyone's ears.
Durandal shot her head up, her eyes filled with a mixture of astonishment and hope as she looked outside the truck.
In the final moments of twilight, the setting sun behind the city cast its warmest light upon a woman.
It was the mother. She was waving, standing outside the truck with an apologetic look.
The sunset bathed her in a rosy glow, and her arms were empty of the swaddling blanket. Even the tattered old HOMU doll was gone.
She stood awkwardly outside the truck, seemingly trying to figure out how to climb in by herself.
The man sitting at the edge of the truck suddenly came to his senses. He quickly stood up, reached out his hand to the woman, and pulled her onto the truck. The sorrow on his face transformed into relief in an instant.
"Thank you, thank you..." The woman bowed repeatedly to the man, then turned to see that the others had already made a space for her.
Thanking everyone along the way, the woman sat down in the cleared spot, right next to Rita.
Rita glanced down. Although the woman's hands were clean, there were still some traces of dirt under her fingernails.
"I'm sorry... for making you worry..." the woman said with a smile to Rita and Durandal. The hair that had been hanging in front of her face was now simply pushed back, revealing a clear, serene, and loving face.
"No, no, no, it's good that you came!" Durandal waved her hands hastily, her voice filled with irrepressible joy. At the same time, the look she gave Rita now held an unprecedented level of admiration and gratitude.
"I've thought it through... I can't be so selfish, only thinking of myself." The woman smiled, her face gentle. "My child needs me, and many others need me too. I have to live, to help more children who are like my own..."
As she spoke, the woman closed her eyes, her hands clasped in front of her. "If there really is a god, he must be able to hear my prayer and see everything I do..."
Seeing the woman's devout yet clumsy posture, Rita smiled.
Hands clasped with fingers intertwined, eyes closed, head bowed... This was the classic prayer posture of a layman, because the object of their prayer wasn't a god three feet above, but their own heart.
"Please bless my child, that she may be cared for. I will look after their children left in this world, and watch them grow..."
"Perhaps, after your child has grown up, she will make the same prayer for you?" Rita waited for the woman to finish her string of words, which could hardly be called a prayer, before adding with a smile.
"Huh? What?" This time, it wasn't Durandal; the woman herself voiced the question.
Rita's expression remained the same, yet it was one you could never tire of seeing. "Love is reciprocal. You love your child and are willing to do anything for her. Your child will love you in return and want to repay you.
"You hope that someone will be there to witness your child grow up. So, might your child make the same prayer, hoping that someone will be there to accompany you as you grow old?"
The woman was stunned. Her gaze was fixed blankly on Rita, yet it seemed to pass right through her, truly reaching another world.
She saw, in that world, her child grown into an adult. She watched her smile as she cared for a dozen elderly couples, watched them talk and laugh together.
Suddenly, her child turned her head and saw the woman standing off to the side.
There was no surprise, no dramatic weeping. Her daughter simply waved to the elderly couples, then stood up and walked over to her.
There was no communication between them, only the woman heard her child say one thing.
"You raised me as I grew up, and I want to be with you as you grow old... but we can't. We aren't by each other's side..."
"So, let's make a deal..."
So... the one she was making a deal with wasn't just the other parents, but her own child as well...
"Let someone be there as I grow up, and let someone be there as you grow old..." The woman watched as her child stepped forward, opened her arms, and slowly embraced her.
"We won't be afraid. I know you're always there, so now..."
It was just a vision, a daze, but in that moment, she felt the warmth right there, within reach. The warm embrace was so real, the heat flowing between their bodies could not be faked.
She heard her daughter whisper in her ear, just as she had when she said her final goodbye to her daughter.
"Don't be afraid, I'm always here..."
"We are always here..." In reality, Rita gently embraced the mother, who was staring into the void, and said softly.
When the Honkai erupted, the mother had just given birth. The disaster struck so suddenly, and she had dragged her weakened body out of the hospital.
Fleeing in panic, she ran to the shelter, hoping the disaster would pass quickly, hoping to see her husband again, hoping her child would be safe.
All her hopes had been dashed. Familiar people and surroundings left her one by one.
Even at the moment of rescue, the mother was still in a daze, unwilling to accept anything.
But now, it was as if they had all come back, speaking that one phrase along with Rita.
We are always here.
The emotional dam that had been suppressed for three long months finally broke. The mother threw her arms around the "daughter" in front of her and burst into tears.
Even with everyone watching, even when she quickly realized that the person in her arms was not the daughter she yearned for day and night, the mother was unwilling to let go.
Only those who are willing to lose themselves in illusion can be trapped by the lies they weave for themselves.
Rita smiled, gently patting the mother's back, as if she were the "mother," comforting her wronged "daughter."
Everyone watched the woman cry in silence. No one felt annoyed. Perhaps everyone envied her, for being able to freely vent the frustrations she had accumulated over three months.
The sound of her crying seemed to take her back to not so long ago, in that white room, after a moment of heart-wrenching pain.
Back then, the Honkai had not yet struck. Her husband was still waiting anxiously outside the delivery room. None of the tragedy had yet occurred.
And the first sound she heard was a healthy, loud cry.
It was the sound of a newborn entering the world.
It signified a brand new beginning.